WARNING: THERE IS BAD LANGUAGE IN THIS POST “Shit-Piss-Fuck-Mother-FUCKER!!” “What? What is it?” David asks, his interest now piqued. “This fucking touchpad!” “Okay, steady on there, my love.” “You fucking steady on – JUST LET ME FUCKING HIGHLIGHT THE FUCKING SENTENCE!!!“ “O…KAY… It’s time to take your hand off the touchpad.” “I HATE IT. I…
“So I tried tea the other day,” says Rissa. “Really? How was it?” asks David. “Bad.” “How so?” “Well it held promise – it was cherry something berry something and it smelled delicious, but then it was all BLAH…” Reading a book, I’m fairly distracticated and don’t hear David’s response. “See she didn’t even hear…
Every January it’s the same. After a holiday season filled with my mother’s impossible-to-resist butter tarts, whipped shortbread and banana-cherry slice; after the boxes of Turtles, bars of Toblerone and Chicago Mix popcorn – I’m basically fucked. How is it that I make it through the first part of December relatively unscathed, only to then…
In 1983 I thought David Bowie was Elton John. Modern Love had just hit the airwaves with its pop-happy sound. I glommed onto its vibe as something dancy and fun and cluelessly mistook his voice for the Rocket Man’s. At 15, I wasn’t familiar enough with Bowie’s work to make the distinction. I do know…
“Hey Love…. where’s your passport?” asks David while I’m finishing up on the treadmill. “It’s up in our bedroom. In the thing…” I say patiently. Boys. They don’t know where stuff is… “Ummm… I looked in the thing… Your passport isn’t there.” Sighing, I turn off the treadmill. If I get up those stairs and…
Rissa and I are watching bingeing Gilmore Girls. Cats blanket our already afghaned laps. EMILY: Oh look — Barbara Stanwyck. I just love Barbara Stanwyck. LORELAI: Oh yeah, she’s good. EMILY: She had that wonderful voice — that husky, deep voice. I just love that voice. LORELAI: You know Mom, you have kind of a…
“And in the dream there were waffles in the freezer. Lots and lots and lots of waffles. So I knew exactly what I would have this morning,” says Rissa as she comes down the stairs. “Hmmmm?” I’m on Facebook. The way I used to be able to split my focus – pre-internet? That no longer…
I picked up as many pairs as I could carry in my arms to the cash. Nordic socks from Old Navy. Colourful, Skandihoovian… perfect… until you try to put them on your feet. (movie trailer announcer voice) In a world where quirky fashion puts its foot forward, Heather thought she’d hit pay dirt. Will her…
I fucked it all up last January. That was when I had a sore throat that turned into the flu, that turned into bronchitis which knocked me on my ass for about two months and instead of pushing through as I usually would, I actually rested. Mostly on account of the fact that after walking…
Says David. “But it’s so good. It’s a great bit.” “I am not a great bit,” he says determinedly. I raise my eyebrows at him. “I am serious. I don’t feel comfortable with you leading a post with that.” I pout. “You’re taking away my comedy.” “No, I’m taking away MY comedy. I don’t want…