Part-time Roommates

Now the phone at my place rings all the time, and it's never for me. Good thing I got that old school answering machine that lets me screen calls. Calls that *could* be for me, but aren't.

They're for my part-time roommate, Courtney Wing. Remember he stayed here while my mother and I were in Cape Cod? He's still looking for an apartment (3.5, no roommates, in the Plateau/Mile-End if you know if a place) and all the prospects are calling to make appointments. No luck so far, but a few close ones. I guess it's rough finding a place these days. Makes me even more certain of staying put for a few more years.

I don't know where Courtney's staying these days, but basically having a part-time roommate means I share space with his duffel bag and assorted belongings (all discreetly tucked under the dining room table) and occasionally come home to find another human being sitting at my desk. It's all good: it means the benefits of a roommate (chats, airtime for my crazy dramas) with little of the annoyances (I think we all know what those are).

In other news, Canadians' number one more feared scenario has happened to me: my identity was stolen! That's right, someone has attempted to purchase about $1200 + in "computer software" using my credit card number. The card itself is safely in my wallet, but some meanie has obtained the number and is trying to scam me. I noticed because my available credit dropped radically and I contacted the bank. Thank goodness I didn't have to go through the confusion of trying to purchase something only to be told my card is out of money. Absurd! So now the account is closed (are you reading that, you crazy thief!?). I'm leaving Monday for Vegas which means, once more, I have to travel without a credit card. Sucks. I can't believe I'll have to use cash; it's so passé.