One is the loneliest number...

Ok, not really. I'm hardly ever lonely which may shock some of you who do not like being alone. I do like being alone. Too independent for my own good? Maybe. Any desire to change? No. I'm coming up on my year anniversary for living alone. I wanted to run through the few things I have decided suck about living alone. But first I want to stress that there are a bajillion good things about living alone. I can dance around and warble (a true description of my singing) and only scare my cats. I can shower with the door wide open. I can get ready in my underwear. I can get in bed at 8 and not be heckled. Etc. On to the bad:

1. When you get a mole removed from your back and you can't reach it, it sucks. I cleaned it with a Q-tip, used some weird arm angles to put band-aids on and managed to keep it clean. My scar....well it's a bit gross and hollow. I advise you not to touch it. But at least I don't have cancer.
2. On bad days I need someone to listen to me vent. Frequently I use this site to vent and that's why it can seem so negative. But if I had a roommate (or a lover (say that like Molly Shannon...in some skit on SNL)) there would not be such a festering vibe to this blog at times.
   
3. When I get my hair cut/colored (looks even better now!) I have no one to ooh and aah at the "blown-out" shiny beauteous-ness of it. Not a word. But the right word for the situation. Anyway, my hair never, ever looks like this...and sometimes it's nice for people to see it look all pretty-like.
4. And finally, when crisis hits, it's nice to have a back up. This job has typically fallen to my Mom. Technically, this isn't that important because crises should not hit often. I have had my fair share this year (a flood that rendered me hysterical and a horrible, Lollapalooza hottest day of the year power outage). I'm hoping for no more this year.
   

A year here....and another year to go at least. Ah, I love this apartment. And Jon Stewart. I heart you both.