Nikki McClure calendar

ACT ONE
(my parents' house in Canada)December 26th :: I'm lying on my old bed in my parents' house, away from New York. I receive an email from my roommate, Dory. "I put the mailbox key on your key ring. There's some Chinese food in a tupperware that I forgot to throw out. I left the 2009 Nikki McClure calendar on the table too. Happy Boxing Day!" Oh wow. A brand new Nikki McClure calendar for 2009? I can't wait.

ACT TWO
(my kitchen in Brooklyn)December 30th :: I'm rushing to assemble a dinner in honour of a visiting friend. People are supposed to arrive in 20 minutes, and I still haven't made the fried bananas or finished the soup. Then my eye is caught by our old calendar on the wall. And yes, there just as she promised is the new one, sitting unopened on the table. I jealously reach for it, but then just as quickly stop myself. I can't yet. It's not even New Year's Eve. Dammit. I return to stirring the soup, wondering if a peek would mean a curse on 2009.

ACT THREE
(my living room)January 1st :: I'm handing out hot chocolate to the small handful of friends that decided to take refuge in my apartment from the brazen New Year's Day winds. The conversation idles between various topics, and I'm cross-legged on the floor scratching my cat. Without explanation, I jump up and dash across the room towards the kitchen. Inquisitive cries follow me down the hall. I call from the kitchen, "It's time to open the calendar!" More confused statements from the living room. I emerge from the hallway triumphantly holding the Nikki McClure 2009 calendar. "I've been wanting to do this for a week now." And like a kid show-and-telling a coveted possession, I turn the cover for all to see the proud month of January.

CONSUMED: my kitchen, Brooklyn