Brave New World by Aldous Huxley 8 min @ Litttle Nicky’s Every morning. Like clockwork. Literally. Maris would rise at five thirty. He used an alarm. Had too, because of the insomnia. But he had to keep consistent or he’d lose his spot. Five thirty five: cold water on the face, warm water gargle with a little Listerine, and a whiz. Five fifty: hot water into the thermos with the scoop of instant coffee. Six Read more…
I love them. I love to soak in the soothing warmth of them and then wrap myself in their cashmere softness. Sometimes I inhale a perfect cluster of them that clears my head in a eucalyptus rush. Sometimes they come at me aggressively, all sharp angles and pointed jabs. And they hurt. They have such power these gangs of letters. They can make you cry with joy or pain, they can make you laugh out Read more…
A note from the land of Obvious: Nothing lasts forever. Especially not people. I didn’t have a large family to begin with but I”m down to one grandparent and one parent. I don’t know how many months or years there are before I”m orphaned but the reality is, time is limited. Friends and acquaintances come and go… connections get dropped, we lose touch, life gets busy. Sometimes, unbeknownst to us, we get psychic reminders to Read more…
My Booky Wook by Russell Brand 8 min @ my desk, Toronto Fuck. Seriously? Every single time… Just once, a break. Please God. The brother had a gimp leg and a curdled smell to his breath. He had cornered her by the big speaker at the corner. The bass shattered through her anorexic frame. She had asked about the family lineage hoping to ingratiate herself and thereby get a little closer to the Gypsy King. Epic Read more…
The voices have been busy again. The Beater-Upper is particularly loud. My issue with her is that she is shrill and relentless. I know I messed up, I don’t need the shrewish nagging in my inner ear. It’s throwing off my balance. I’m trying to move forward but I can’t focus clearly. I don’t mind that I’ve screwed up. It took a finger load of decades to recognize and accept the imperfect moments will outnumber Read more…
I Was Told There Would Be Cake by Sloane Crosley 5 min @ Ideal coffee If only I could remember the time when my stomach didn’t clench and spasm at the thought of milk, the smell of coffee or even cigarettes. Smokes and lattes had been the goddam staples of my diet since the age of fifteen. Of course it started innocuously enough with Craven M and double double drip coffee from the donut place at Read more…
It was an extra busy week last week. Lots of racing from appointment to audition to rehearsal, squeezing in last-minute appointments for wardrobe fittings and trying to be on time for all of it. (I was up for the challenge.) But as I bobbed and wove my way through the congested downtown streets I noticed I was slipping back into an old habit. It’s easier to not drop a few coins into a hat or Read more…
Where The Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein 5 minutes before bed, Toronto She sat on the cooler, the bubbly sweetness tickling down her throat. The soda wasn’t cold enough yet but it tasted creamier when it wasn’t cold. That’s what she thought but Serena always argued differently. Serena insisted they bury the Tahiti Treats at the bottom of the cooler as soon as they started their shift so they would be properly chilled by the first Read more…