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My Annual Christmas Bitch Session
I’m walking a tightrope, stretched between two Christmas trees, taut with the pressure of time, money, and expectation. On the one side is the me that loves Christmas. Loves! The hype, the decorating,...
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Facing Fears
I’m sitting in a classroom, trying to slink underneath my desk so that the teacher won’t call on me. I sit amongst my clique, my fiction group. The poets are in the front of the room, young adult...
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Mistaken Identity
I’m at a fundraiser, which is another way of saying I’ve had a glass of wine. I’m not slurring words, but my tongue is loose. You know. So I come clean. Sometimes, I just cannot get a name right. Even...
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You’ve Got to Tri(athlon)
I run because it’s who I am; I do triathlons to find out who else I can be. In the course of six hours you have time to figure these things out. You also, I learned, have time for some very random...
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A Facial Shaming
The cozy cocoon-like bed and waterfall music are almost enough to lull me into believing this facial will be different. Maybe my skin care regiment is finally working. While not onerous, it still costs...
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Get Up and Go (Even When It’s Gone): Ride78, Baby.
It was a dark and stormy Monday morning, and I was not at all inclined to get out of bed. But I knew what was waiting for me at Ride78 was far more inspiring than my soft pillow. Harder than rolling...
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Out with the Old, In with the Yew
This is not a foodie blog, because I’m not a foodie, which is not to say I don’t like food. I like it alright. My taste buds simply haven’t evolved much since my university days, when my roommates...
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One For The Globe
Hello 2015, I can’t wait to eat you up. Let the wild rumpus start, like Max says. And another thing. When it comes to idiocy, home ownership, and life, I’m the bomb. Click here to read all about it,...
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Nothing Written Nothing Gained
A creative writing course? Parisian croissants sound less flaky. The Writer’s Studio is a one year continuing education course at SFU. It costs real money – a trip to Hawaii kind of money – and the...
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Why Stopping to Smell the Roses Is Like Pausing to Consider a Facial
It’s fitting that my essay appears in the back of the Globe and Mail, on the same day that Stephanie Nolen’s byline is on the front page. Back in King’s J-school, she would submit her flawless article...
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Travel: Toujours Tulum
I’ll always have Tulum. It’s the one. You know, when they tell you to envision a happy place. A piece of paradise to be teleported to when your present is chaos. Which happens. To some more than...
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All Dressed Up and Everywhere to Go
Our 2001 babes are graduating high school this year. Yesterday/twelve years ago we sat cross-legged on the carpet of Ms. Kocher’s kindergarten class with them on our laps, amazed our wee ones were...
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