Random Channel Surfing

Nothing coupley, she was just warming my hands up. Anyway, we went to order a slice of pizza at Funky Pickle and the dude behind the counter asks if she's paying for both slices. Janis turns to look at me and says, "Guess he thinks we're together. I guess we do sound like a couple with me ordering right after you!" to which the guy answers, "Oh, you guys aren't together?" No. We're not. Point is, I think it's ridiculous that just because she ordered immediately after me - and that we're holding hands - people ~assume that we're an item. Are women not allowed to be affectionate with one another? If so, I must have missed the memo...

Once upon a time, there was a really anxious text editor who was crippled by her feelings of inadequacy. She thought she was not fit for writing. That she was not suited for proudly bearing the title of "writer." That she was better off doing something like editing, instead. It was nonsense, really, since the girl was a fabulous text editor and she had a real imagination. The problem was, that whenever inspiration struck, she'd put her hand to paper, but her fingers would cramp up. Her mind would go blank. A fine sheen of sweat would grace her forehead and her body temperature would rise exponentially. It wasn't really her fault, you see. For her darling Muse, Darla, was too chicken-sh** (pardon the French) to let Marcela's finger muscles relax. To let her mind drift away on a paper sailboat. To let her body feel calm, cool, collected. So, one day, Marcela did the unthinkable. The unforgivable. The most dramatic thing an aspiring writer could do. She fired her Mu

The 24th Annual Edmonton International Film Festival started this weekend and I went to the screening of Sisters & Brothers , which was written by Edmonton-born director, Carl Bessai, who was all kinds of happy over having the movie screen in his hometown. I was very proud and happy to watch the film. Not only was the entire film improvised and low budget - something that was clearly obvious, given the limited shooting locations - but it was extremely well-acted and well-executed. The stories flowed seamlessly and the tone of the film was never lost on its audience. Funny scenes were funny. Sombre scenes were sombre. And hella awkward scenes were hella awkward. Now, our boy Cory? Extremely enjoyable to watch. Basically, he and Dustin Milligan played two brothers. Older brother Justin (Cory Monteith) has found fame being a Canadian mega movie star in Hollywood, while his younger brother, Rory (Dustin Milligan), has recently come back from Africa after a failed attempt at fam

Eleven years ago today, I had my heart broken for the first time. It's a bit surreal how detached I am from a pain that ultimately caused a shortness of breath I can never fully get over, as well as an eating disorder, which, luckily, I was able to overcome thanks to therapy and the world's best support system. But when I think back on that September morning, when I remember how sure I felt that everything was going right in my life - after all, I was living in a real-life John Hughes' movie - I pity myself. And self-pity? One of the most pathetic feelings a human can experience, let me tell you. But the boy was worth it. I remember knowing him better than anyone else. Seeing him through these completely naive, but very discerning pair of fourteen-year-old eyes. I knew then as well as I know now, that what I felt for him was real and special and pure and once-in-a-lifetime. But I do wonder, especially now that it's been eleven years of failing to breathe

Oh, boo. Boo, boo, boo, boo-bee-boo. It's that restless time again. And, predictably, I'm currently suffering from the "Woe is mes". Ugh. It's pathetic and aggravating and I'm so unbelievably annoyed by my antics. It's just being insecure isn't something you can turn off. If it were that simple, I wouldn't be writing here right now. Anyway, I'm restless. And angry. And really bloody jealous.

It's in desperation that you go to his house. It's been days since you've seen him and the distance is making you question your sanity. Your once dignified anger has dissolved into painful regret and no matter what you do, you want to make things right. Damn him! Damn him and his soft eyes. Damn you. Damn you and your weak heart.

It's sad that I still remember, isn't it? You'd think that after ten years, I'd forget...

One note and I'm transported to specific events in my lifetime. It's like magic.