Our Hero: My Life, Psychotic sorries and 18 candles

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	You know how some days you get your tummy stuck in your zipper, and it's like the end of your personal world, and you go completely psycho over it?

	But how on other days you could step in cat vomit and then somehow track it all over your room, across your bed and over your toothbrush and it just wouldn't even faze you? I was having a whole string of those brilliant unfazed days since I started hanging out with Malachi. Bill's vengeful psycho graffiti about me all over my school didn't make me blink; my idiot brother taking over my personal basement space to give "comedy" lessons bothered me not at all.

		But then suddenly this one thing did faze me... I went to give blood, and they asked me the 'have you done drugs by injection or slept with someone who has' question, and I realized, thanks to Bill, I didn't know how to answer that! And I didn't know how to answer that right in front of Malachi! So I remained as calm as possible, marched over to Bill's house to demand this information and got the surprise of my life. Don't worry. The story has a happy ending -- Bill and I even stayed friends -- but not without some psycho behaviour on my part…

Have you ever pilfered socks from someone's drawer?

	Yes
	No
	I'll never tell


	I have these fantasies about my brother. Not those kind of fantasies. The kind where I discover he was switched at birth, and now his real family wants him back. And then my real-tragically-switched brother comes bounding through our door for his tearful reunion with us. Only we find out he's not so much a brother as he is a puppy. A cocker-spaniel maybe. Or a terrier. Sigh.

But back in the real world… I'm stuck with my lay-about idiot brother, Ethan, (plus no puppy). Ethan'd been bleeding my folks dry for months - loans, groceries, free rent. I caught him pilfering socks from my Dad's drawer even. Then like overnight, he was suddenly loaded and throwing money around on leather jackets and pagers! I, of course, assumed the worst, nabbed his self-storage unit key, and Ross and I went snooping to see what kind of illicit business Ethan'd gotten himself into. What we found changed my view of my brother… and my dad… forever. After all that happened, I have to say, I guess I'll put up with Ethan a little while longer...even though I'd much, much rather have a puppy.

	So I was turning eighteen finally after what seemed like years of waiting, and I wanted it to be special. I wanted to have some kind of rite of passage or even a symbol-- I dunno, something to show for the fact that I'd made it through to adulthood without stabbing my brother six times in the throat. So I told Malachi about it, and that turned out to be what I like to call a "poor decision." First he fed me shots that he and Mary-E made up from leftover bits from the liquor bottles in her recycling bin, I think. Then we partied all night, which normally would've been fun...


		But then the next morning I woke up mostly naked with a tattoo on my chest in a hotel room on the outskirts of town with a similarly tattooed stranger showering in the washroom. Then things kinda went downhill from there. Happy Birthday to me. So let's just say, after the birthday I had, I'm holding a wee grudge against my boyfriend, Malachi… O.K. a medium-sized grudge. O.K. a plus-sized gargantuan grudge that Malachi better stop feeding if he knows what's good for him!


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