Posts Tagged ‘quirks’

One of my favorite new blogs (The Militant Baker!) did a 10 facts post and challenged others to post 10 facts about themselves. It got me kind of excited, plus I’m in full NaNoWriMo procrastination mode so here are my own ten random factoids. Hoozah!

10 facts - blog post title pic

  1. I have only begun watching horror movies in the last couple of years but now it is practically all I watch. Don’t get me wrong I had seen a few before, all under duress, but then the 2005 Dawn of the Dead broke some sort of dam and suddenly it was all zombies all the time and like any good gateway drug the zombies led me to other types of horror.
  2. As a matter of fact, I am the reason they keep making shaky cams. Diary of the Dead? Yeah! Blair Witch? Fuck yeah!  Paranormal Activity? Quadruple Fuck Yeah!!
  3. It is possible that I own more books than I can read in my lifetime unless I give up all other activities including sleep. I’m not sorry but I do wish I was a faster reader.
  4. I am the worst housekeeper in existence. Okay, not quite the worst but I’m definitely a slob. It is possible I do not actually have the ability to see dust except during full moons or something.
  5. I started getting grey hair at 17.  Just a bit at a time, so I’ve only just managed a Rogue-esque streak by age 32, but because it started so early it has never made me feel old.
  6. I was voted “class judge” in grade 7. Not as anything official, just a majority of my class mates getting together and assigning everyone roles. (We were a class of 14) I was never sure if it was because they trusted me to be impartial or if they felt I was a judgy-mcjudgy-pants. Either way I was proud of the events that prompted their decision.
  7. I have several sleep disorders that have only been partially treated successfully. Sleep has become a sort of unknowable almost magical thing that has no rhyme or reason in my life. It is just a thing that happens to me sometimes.
  8. I have three rules when it comes to buying souvenirs while on holiday. They must be small, they must have a semblance of usefulness, and they must feature the name and preferably a picture of the place being visited in the kitschiest way possible. An optional rule is that souvenir shopping is best done while drunk.
  9. I dislike collections. I live with a constant worry that I will be known for liking one particular thing. Which is not to say there aren’t groups of things I own that could be considered a collection, but I dislike considering them in a way that might make me anxious about getting rid of anything.
  10. I went to a performing arts high school and majored in visual arts.  I don’t do much sketching anymore but I miss it and have recently picked up some watercolous to experiment with.

So that’s my ten things. I could do twenty but the thought of coming up with ten more things to say about myself seems exhausting.


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Back in March I posted stories about my new apartment, mostly in regards to the toilet. If you need a recap see here and here.

Anyway, the first time boyfriend was home for the epic foaming toilet I was all “You need to come see this!” a phrase I had sworn never to utter about anything found in a toilet. But I suspected he doubted my claims of foaming toilet and I intended to prove it no matter the cost to household decorum.

Puffed up with righteous vindication I showed off the proof of my not-lunacy and agitated for confirmation of its creepiness. Boyfriend did not share my misgivings.

Apparently boys like having something to aim at.

So now when the toilet fills with foam whilst I have company I offer first dibs to my male guests who always appreciate the added entertainment value. I’m just a great hostess that way.

Also, I wonder if this has any marketability in the potty training industry…

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Today while I was sitting in the office (my fancy name for the spare bedroom) trying to decide what to blog about the toilet started up again. Today it was all “bwop, bwop, bwop, bwop, bwop”. At first I ignored it but it just kept going like a stuck record of a baritone scat singer (I am awesome at simile construction like a badger is awesome at burrowing holes!) so finally I ran for the bathroom to watch it bubble.

My life if full of excitement!

It goes on for another minute then the bubbles and the bwops get smaller and quieter but then I notice a few tiny bubbles floating on the surface. At first I think they are just regular air bubbles from the agitated water but when they don’t immediately go away I start to wonder. They continue to multiply and soon the toilet is half full of bubbles.

Despite my fascination/horror with this growing mound of suds I have been standing over my toilet for several minutes now and I am lazy and want to sit down.

I decide against bringing a kitchen chair into the bathroom so I can sit and watch my toilet produce bizarre noises and substances because my life cannot possibly hold that much excitement. I mean WOAH! Right?

So now I’m back in the office typing this blog post and I can hear it; the soft, stealthy bwop, bwop, bwop of my toilet and probably bathroom floor slowly filling with foam of unknown origin coming up out of my toilet (please let it be soap, even if it used soap).

My greatest paranoia is now that a rat will climb from my toilet. Does my building have rats? No. How do air bubbles and soap in the plumbing translate into rats that can breathe water and climb through pipes? I don’t know. Maybe they could use the air bubbles as a little life pod. (I think I just had the greatest children’s Saturday morning cartoon idea ever!)

I take it back. My greatest paranoia is not that a rat will climb from my toilet. It is that a rat climbing from my toilet while I am sitting on it. And also the air bubble it is traveling in splashes used toilet water on my butt. Then the rat bites my butt. And I die of the Plague. On the bright side I have the most effortlessly clean toilet ever.

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Fair warning: I will talk about my toilet in this blog post. Your are warned.

I have moved five times in the last 5 years and lived in 15 different homes in my 30 years on this planet. In fact I moved into home #15 on my 30th birthday about a month ago. Aside from becoming a master packer I have also learned a thing or two about apartments and I love my latest apartment which is good because the plan is for me and boyfriend to be here for a long time. It’s large enough to accommodate our crap without leaving us crammed into the remaining space. It has reasonably decent natural light. It has good water pressure, hard wood floors and a balcony, which will be surrounded by lovely trees come summer. For the first time we have an apartment shared with no one but ourselves and our cat.

My nomadic living has left me with an appreciation for a place that meets so many of my needs with extra perks like wooden floors and a balcony. So I can forgive little things like when the toilet makes strange noises and emits odd substances. At least I was forewarned. Here is a recap of my first week living with a new toilet.

Day 1: Boyfriend and I move in. When we meet in the hall neighbour makes lighthearted joke about plumbing birthing Cthulu. It is my 30th birthday so we invite some friends over to enjoy our piles of boxes and bizarre wall colours and get drunk. If toilet attempts to bring about the end times we fail to notice.

Day 2: Late in the night the toilet emits… gurgles. Loud ones. They last a few seconds and then quiet down to small burbles before going silent. We knew it might do something like this and despite the eerie nature of the noise I roll over and go back to sleep.

Day 3: Boyfriend is out-of-town for the next five days and the late night burbles are louder and more unsettling. Possibly because I am alone and having vivid memories of the short film The Blob from one of the crypt keeper movies I saw as a child and it scarred me for life. Seriously, I still can’t swim in water over my head unless I am with someone else who will get eaten first while I get away. I am a bad friend to swim with. Anyway I am a grownup now and a few plumbing noises aren’t going to make me hide under the covers (much).

Day 4: I am invited over to a friend’s house for dinner. I return very late to find the toilet seat has been put down, something I do not normally do. I may have done so in my rush to get out the door and forgotten but this unnatural toilet lid position contributes to my general feeling of unease. When I lift the lid I see that water is all over the bottom of the lid and on the seat. Not small drops either, big splashy ones. I check their colour to ensure they are in fact just water. It is at this point that I realize how violent the burbling must be and that if I ever have the misfortune to be using said facility during an episode I might get to have my first ‘bidet’ experience. Ew. I can live with this though since the violent gurgles seem to mostly occur between 4am and 6am.

Day’s 5 and 6: I continue to hear the toilet in the wee hours due to insomnia. It does not get less eerie. Attempts to see burbles in action prove fruitless as it never lasts long.

Day 7: I am getting used to the night-time burbles and have yet to be treated to a splashed behind. I return home from class in the afternoon and rush to use the facilities. I sit down without looking in the toilet first because I am an adult and don’t believe rumours of rats coming up through the plumbing. Surely there could be nothing ominous mere inches from my butt.

As I am finishing the phone rings and I rush from the bathroom without bothering to flush. The lever needs to be held down for several seconds and I don’t have time because SOMEONE WANTS TO TALK TO ME! (I am lonely because boyfriend is out-of-town) After I am done on the phone I return to the bathroom because the not-flushed toilet will bother me. I look down and discover that the bowl had been pretty fully when I sat down.

Not actual event. Picture depicts a later foam incident for "not gross" purposes.












It is full of soapy foam more than halfway up the bowl. This creeps the hell out of me. Much as I believe in and try to practice water conservation I am not one of those people who can pee without flushing just to save water. It’s just creepy to me out to sit over it later. Also gross, what if it splashes?

So now there is this mystery foam in my toilet and it was mere centimeters from my bottom.

Aw, it looks like a heart.












I choose to assume it is soap and not some weird chemical, this helps. But the real question is where did it come from? I chalked up all the burbling to water in the pipes. Now comes this unknown foamy white substance.

How does plumbing work exactly?

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