Katie Leggitt

I had a dream about a wild dog and an owl last night.  I decided to write about it this morning and remembered that I'd inherited a brass owl from my grandparents.  It sat in their sunny living room in Saint-Andrews East, among the other ornaments and paper weights. When I went looking for it in my apartment, I couldn't find it.  I searched for it everywhere, twice.  In boxes, on shelves, in the nooks and crannies of my odd-shaped bedroom, and came up with nothing.  Panicked, I decided someone must have stolen it from me, because I remember seeing it very recently.  An object, that has been present my whole life, suddenly went missing and I had to blame someone else. I've moved a couple of times in the last year, so part of me thought I'd lost it in the confusion, or accidentally gifted it to a family member, but why would I do that?  It reminds me of my grandfather, who died young.  I even came across a tiny clipping of his 16 year old obituary on my hunt. Discou

Austin Power's British accent has been in my head all day. I went for my first professional massage today with my dear friend T, a super generous gift from her and her man for my birthday (and last year's Christmas, ha.). The spa turned out to be in an old bar we used to frequent in theatre school, affectionately known as "The Brass."  From what I understand it was owned by a couple of Irish misters, and let me just say the ghosts and white dust have been cleared out after a serious renovation.  You'd never know hundreds of theatre kids had been through there over the years, let alone a single beer tap. Anyway, we giggled our way into the room, feeling like deserving adults in our robes and enjoyed a full hour-long massage.  If you haven't had one, do.  You deserve every penny's worth.  I left feeling elated and relaxed and limber as all hell. It was an interesting experience, I have to admit I was a bit nervous at first, not knowing what to expect

I like to consider myself an amateur palm reader.  I went to Victoria BC a few years ago and had my palm read in the Bay Centre for 40 dollars.  It was a fifteen minute recorded reading, and my cousin Kate had sworn by her.  Since then, I've done a bit of research and whipped out my talent as a sort of parlor trick, mostly at the theatre for kicks. There's always been something that bothered me about the reading I got though.  She took a look at my relationship lines, which are located under your pinky on the edge of your hand.  At the time I was in a serious relationship and she told me I'd be ready for marriage around 28.  I thought that was pretty hopeful until she chuckled and said that I'd probably be married several times.  I have two lines, parallel to each other, about the same length, which should symbolize important relationships, and in my case, multiple ones. Now, four years later after the reading, they're still there and have plagued me since.  I s

My sister once told me about a dream she had, where God said something very meaningful to her but it was gone as soon as she opened her eyes. That always stayed with me, wondering what those wise words could have been. Tonight, as I was filling my tank up with gas, my friend said something to me that disappeared just as quickly,  but I understood it.  I got the message, and it hit home.  He couldn't remember the phrasing either, it was as if it disappeared into the night. It was something along the lines of... just when you think you've got it figured out, sometimes something sprouts elsewhere, unexpectedly, organically, that's just meant to be. Damn life, you're so mysterious sometimes. Thoughts and whistles, Katie