Stuck in Purge-atory: By Laurel Borrowman, Life & Style Editor Valentine’s Day. I’m single, but I’m not lovelorn, lonely, depressed, or longing for a boyfriend. Not today, not on February 14, not on May 29. I’m happy not being in a relationship for many reasons, but I mostly have my roommate Emily to thank. On my end, Emily and I moved in together as a result of a break- up. My boyfriend and I had been living together, it wasn’t working, we broke up, cue Emily. We sort of knew each other because on paper, we are basically family. My brother’s wife is her oldest friend’s wife's sister, and they live in a building that had an empty apartment in it. All clear, right? Which is why it made perfect sense for us to move in together. We were destined to become soul roommates; we just each needed a lame living situation to move away from, an awesome two-bedroom apartment to move into. So, here we are! Plus, it turns out we have alarmingly similar [== really care about affinities for popcorn, peanut butter, chocolate, chocolate-peanut-butter- things, no-handed bike moves, Soul Club, Portlandia, cute boys, and a tidy home. In the past, the hardest parts of being a singleton for me were those in between times; the little things. The times when the day is done and a glass of wine is due; the times when you want to curl up on the couch and watch Stepbrothers for the 67 time; the times when you want to eat the entire jar of peanut butter while cursing the Internet for cutting out again; the times when you just want to go out and dance until the sun comes up. Those aren’t always fun solo. Those are usually more fun when you have a significant other. Those things, turns out, are most fun with an Emily. I get the freedom of being Laurel, Singular, and have an eager cohort to eat the jar of peanut butter with. Also, I have a partner in Purge-atory. Which brings me to this week, a week when Emily reaffirmed her commitment to this never-ending experiment more than I could have dreamed. Emily did the binge- Life&Style. A Valentine’s ode to my roommate, and Freedom 55 purge, and our friendship is off the charts (there’s proof: we graphed it). In the ongoing quest to patch her walls and give her room a makeover (it’s still a work-in- progress), she thought it best to get rid of a bunch of clothes, ala four weeks ago when I somehow ditched 99 items, Jay-Z style. With fierce commitment to her room, to this column, and a bottle of wine split between us, she disappeared into her cavernous abode, emerging 30 minutes later, spewing clothes onto the living room floor. Here’s the list: 2 scarves 5 belts 4 bras 1 tube top 1 bikini top 1 pair long johns 3 pairs of socks 3 sweaters 9 tops 11 tank tops 2 pants 4 pairs of shorts 5 dresses 4 skirts For a grand total of 55 items out of her life. Therefore, we deem this week, in honour of the one and only Emily retiring a heap of shit she doesn’t need, Freedom 55. Except this Freedom 55 is far more excellent because we aren't 55, aren't close to 55, and can stay up past 10 p.m. on a Saturday night. I was the lazy one—the cheerleader? this week; I figure Emily’s achievement can average out my lack of purging this round. And so, for this Valentine’s Day—and everyday—I wish you happiness, plain and simple, whether it be through a friend, a lover, or creating space in your life by getting rid of copious amounts of things you simply don’t need. Days in Purge-atory: 86 Collective weekly target: 14 Items collectively purged this week: 55 Items that didn’t actually leave the apartment: 0 Total items purged this week: 55 Total items purged to date: 299 The truth about your shoes : when it warms up, don’t wear ugly ones By Jenn Markham mall that sold Crocs. Every week they’d stink up the store with a horrible plastic smell as soon as we opened the box. The strangest people would come in looking for those ugly things. All of a sudden, everywhere you look people are wearing bright shoes that don’t match their outfits. Who gets up in the morning and puts on a grey sweatsuit with bright orange shoes? A Croc wearer, that’s who! The thing about Crocs is, from across the beach you see the shoes before the person. But they took off, and in no time the new fashion was no fashion at all. Their design was even flawed, with that strap at the front or back that no one can figure out what was for. Don’t get me started on those holes on the top. The only thing I can think of that might need escaping is odour. We live in Vancouver people! Our meteorologists have created 15 different ways of describing rain [= to work at a store in the for a reason! I’m told they’re comfortable, like wearing cinnamon buns on your feet, but even the black ones look like Mickey Mouse rejects. I’ve seen whole families walk by with matching Crocs. And just when you thought they couldn’t get any worse, they came out with gems to decorate them. Yup, tacky plastic chunks to fill the holes. Kids even started trading them at school like we did Pogs, although I can’t imagine what the hot commodity is. “T'll trade you my pink pig for your white bunny!” Yuck. If I remember correctly, they even started to get banned at hospitals; because of their porous nature, they retained the germs and became unsanitary. I told my boyfriend Crocs were a deal breaker, and when my sister bought a pair just to spite me, I told her I refused to go anywhere with her if she was wearing them. The truth? When it warms up, don’t wear Crocs. ~*~"