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Showing posts from 2012

Collision

The energy that exists, between two objects, the moment before contact, is magical.  I believe the universe is calling me to explore that right now.  It lasts a split second, a millionth, the force that erupts prior to collision.  Within that space, there is so much happening. Everything surrounding that force is about to change forever. Nothing will be the same again.  All that exists around that moment adjusts itself to the new existence, the new truth, the new way of living. Tension.   Desire. Proximity. Touch, reverberation. Connection. Wave.  Satisfaction.  Pulse. When there is a collision, because I don’t know what else to call it right now, the kinetic force pushes a new way of being, a spell of adjustment on all its beings.  The environment is never the same.  There is a spark, an asterix left behind, to tell a story, to haunt the territory with forever. A story is planted, a shift has taken place. I am part of the spell.  I have been entranced by this energy.

Riders on the Storm

When the student is ready, the teacher appears. I find that to be so true.  Call it the law of attraction or pure coincidence, but I'm on an internal trip I've never had access to before.  The gates have opened, the walls are down, and I see the path to my heart. It's been a rocky couple of weeks, feeling like all this mumbo-jumbo emotional baggage has surfaced, and my first instinct is to sink it to the bottom as usual, just to keep my head up, but with a little patience and the help of a good friend, I'm riding the storm, seeing it through. The fight or flight instinct is so active in dating!  "What the hell am I getting myself into?"  "Is this going anywhere?"  "Am I really that into him?"  "Is he really into me??"  Ohh such classics. This new route is helping me face a lifetime of love-sludge, and shoveling it all out to get to the real me.  It's like an emotional cleanse, and I have to say tea has been an importan

Talk is Cheap

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Ahhhh... Sunday night writing to good music.  What could be better? Lots, I suppose, but I'm happily sitting here with my thoughts.  Which is why I'm writing. I've come to realize that I survive by getting it all out.  Sometimes I may share too much, but it's all I know. Recently someone commented on my writing, which has made me want to take a new approach to this blog, though I'm not entirely sure what it will be like.  I guess I want to leave more up to your own imagination, or deciphering, as it were.  And not necessarily about my love life, or whatever I may write about, but about your life, and what it all means to you. I can make sense of what's going on in me, but it's up to you to take what I might say and hopefully make you wonder more about yourself.  I suppose that's why I started writing this two years ago anyway, but I rarely leave room for interpretation, I usually spell it out. That's come to be a part of my being, who I am en

The Wild Dog and the Owl

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

Sen-sewe-all Mass-ahge

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

Love Lines

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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

Sweet Dreams

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

Crimson and Clover

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Remember that Kibbles and Bits commercial?  Or all of them for that matter?  The dogs love them Kibbles and Bits and Bits and Bits. Kibbles and Bits must be the dog-equivalent to McDonalds.  How much processed crap must go into it, to create a bacon and cheese flavored dog food.  What dog needs cheese in their life? Super random tangent, but I was thinking about the jingle as I sat down to write.  I don't have much to go with other than I've been writing a lot lately. I've been taking a solo-creation class with the wonderful Kirsten Rasmussen and it's brought me huge inspiration of late.  I haven't performed anything I've written since college, and that was a long time ago, folks.  I'm hoping this class and the subsequent solo performance could bring about an extended version, maybe even a one-woman show.  We'll see where this road takes me, but I'm excited. Last night I was given some feedback about my writing that was worth exploring so tod

Eye of the Storm

If you were Felix Baumgartner, about to potentially jump to your death from a tiny vessel hovering over the Earth, what would be going through your mind in those final moments before your freefall?  Who would you want in the control booth, assuming that someone in your life has all the qualifications necessary to get the job done right...  Someone you trust with your life, who won't fail you, who is by your side in your scariest moments.  Your best friend. Who would you want to be greeted by after you take your first few steps back on the planet? Whose embrace would be able to absorb and return all the emotion you would be feeling in that moment?  Someone who understands you.  Your true love. Who would you want to jump with?  Who would you be doing it for?  What does the jump mean to you? All Redbull sponsorship aside, it was a pretty epic event, I'm glad I tuned in.  I feel inspired. Last night I had a dream that the world, or Montreal at least, was coming to an end.  

Dirty 30

Thanksgiving weekend - thirtieth birthday, all in one.  I have never felt so thankful in my life.  It's like the Christmas I got the Princess of Power castle, times 100. Saturday morning I had breakfast with my mom after she spoiled me at Indigo and The Bay, then I went and got a diamond tattoo on my forearm, a reminder of how precious and beautiful life is.  That evening I celebrated with friends at the theatre, and even had a few surprises, family and old friends I haven't seen in ages.  So blessed.  So, so blessed. Last night there was another surprise waiting for me at a Mexican restaurant.  I had no idea she planned this, but my sister managed to rally a bunch of family members, some from Ottawa even, to usher my 30th in with the biggest surprise birthday I could have ever expected.  I had no idea they were coming to dinner. At my mom's place for cake and coffee, I was delivered notes and letters from even more family members, Grampa and my Aunt Norma included, b

iphone baggage

I deleted about 500 photos from my iphone tonight, digital evidence of my past year.  The bulk of the photos consisted of bad self-portraits and documentation from my mouse-infested apartment.  I was worried they'd come after me after abandoning the place so I kept the evidence on-hand in the event I needed to remind them what a shithole I lived in for 3 months. Carrying the baggage around night and day... it feels good to get rid of it.  But don't worry, I'm not stupid - I backed it up on my laptop.  You never know.  Now the pictures provide me with evidence of my insatiable Instagram habit, something that is probably costing me more than it should. In any case, I seem to be doing a lot of reflection these days, settling into the hustle of the plateau and getting back into the groove of school.  I handed out 45s to grades 3-6 the other day to talk about personal records and am already making plans for an assembly in December.  Gotta plan in advance. I'm going wit

Irene Saint-Pierre

My grandmother taught me how to sew.  My first piece was a pair of bellbottoms that I made in '98 with rainbow trims and later a happy face patch on the thigh.  I also made a funky tank top out of an old orange and white flowered pillowcase with white lacy fringe.  A friend of mine wore it to a 60s dance in high school and for all I know she probably kept it. Today marks nine years since my grandmother passed away, the same day Johnny Cash died.  They played his music all day on the country classic channel and I can't listen to his version of Nine Inch Nails' Hurt  without thinking about death or wanting to curl up into a ball and cry.  I'm sure you feel the same way. As much as it might sound strange or impossible, I have never felt closer to my grandmother than I have in the past six months.  She was on my mind as soon as I moved into my previous, mouse-infested apartment, and I'm sure it was the strength she instilled in me that got me through it. She was t

Ronald Still Reigns

The weirdest thing happened today at work.  I was looking into teen health videos on youtube, because it really seems like there aren't that many geared towards your typical teenager...  What 15 year old wants to sit and listen to a weird conservative woman talk about health topics?  BORING! Anyhoo, I found something that sounded really promising, titled "A new and AWESOME Teen Health Series."  I clicked on the link and found an awkward guy talking to a slightly less awkward guy about a project that wasn't even born yet and it fell flat and got all religious and weird in the end.  But to the right-hand side where YouTube lists other videos, I saw Barney!  "Eat, Drink and Be Healthy Part 3," so I watched it, partly to reminisce about how guilty I was to watch that show in my teens, but also to see what kind of material Barney would put out.  Not bad.  But still, no spice.  I got distracted by Ronald McDonald's face out of the corner of my eye and cli

FACE-STUFFING

I feel this thing slipping away from my fingertips.  The keyboard barely beneath, my thoughts as slow as molasses, I feel about as deep as a teacup these days.  I keep second-guessing everything that I feel inspired by and I tell myself I shouldn't write about it, maybe it's too personal and people will be put-off by my inner thoughts, revealed here on the web. I don't really know who I write this for anymore, maybe just Grampa and a few readers who've held on, mostly for myself I suppose, to maintain some level of sanity.  Maybe if I just put it out there, it'll morph into something concrete somewhere else.  But for now... they're just thoughts, and stories on occasion. I ate three bagels today.  I wish I was lying.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner.  So maybe the answer's in the question... I'm like the opposite of who I was when I started writing this blog two years ago! I can't let this all be so depressing.  The tide rolls in, and the tide flow

Something Deep.

work. watering. coffee. music. walking. shelter. couch. safety. knick-knacks. kitchen. living room, bedroom, bathroom, cigarettes, beer, vodka, pictures, pictures, pictures, nail polish, tattoos, body parts, ticking, gardens, gum, cars, horns, lights, deps, shoes, bikes, teapots, tripping, falling, running, skipping, escaping, diving in, swimming, dreaming, flying, singing, playing, laughing. The Irrepressibles, Katie

She's Like The Wind

I guess I owe it to myself, and to you maybe, to write a post. It's been a while, and I've seen a lot in the past month, but last night I was re-inspired to sit down with the keyboard. I was working at TSC for Lundi Impro, and I stepped outside for a moment when I was stopped by a man in his 40s with a receding hairline and wearing sunglasses at night.  He asked me what kind of theatre it was and if we hosted any open mic nights.  Once in a while, sort of, but mostly for stand-up comedy, I told him. He told me his mom had died when he was 3 months old and since then has always had a special appreciation for love and romance, especially in music.  He said his dad put him on stage when he was 4 because he had a voice like no other.  "You ever hear one of those people you think belong on the radio?" He asked me. I asked if he was referring to himself and he began to sing me one of his favorite songs, Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind," and I

Smashville

Full disclosure.  It's past 1 AM, sitting on my bed, craving scalloped potatoes.  I just finished sending an email to my beloved cousin that I don't get to see often enough, and finally decided to write a new post. It's been a while since my last one, and I don't know if it's because I sleep in so much in the summer, but the writing bug has left the building in me.  That didn't make sense, but it's okay, it's almost 2. I wrote her an email basically updating her on the inner-workings of Katie Leggitt.  I tend to do that with her, because you don't really chit-chat in emails.  Straight to the point, the real point, the juice, the good stuff. I drove to Nashville last week and spent 4 days there and then a day in Memphis.  Part of me thinks Memphis was cooler than Nashville, but maybe because I was only there for a day.  Graceland, Sun Studio, Country Music Hall of Fame, the Ryman Auditorium, Bluebird Cafe, Tootsie's, the Parthenon... did it

Dreams do Come True

A few weeks ago on a road trip to Toronto with my mom, I was toying with the idea of auditing some classes this Fall, specifically, The History of Rock and Roll at Concordia, taught by Craig Morrison.  That night I had a dream that I met him, and last night, that dream came true. I figured since I'm heading to Nashville in a couple of days, I should head on down to the Wheel Club, NDG's very own honky-tonk, or at least on Mondays.  I thought I should get my fill before hitting the road and seeing the real country of country.  If you're not familiar with the place, Monday nights at the Wheel Club are open to the public, and musicians play hillbilly to crowds aged 100 and under.  It's run by Bob Fuller and has been for something like the last 40 years.  Now almost 80, he plays various instruments from his wheelchair, sporting his baby blue cowboy hat and a matching  plaid shirt.  Last night he was playing the upright bass. At the Wheel Club, you feel right at home, su

Write your own story

I've been in story-writing mode lately. I have an idea for a short story that's been developing in my mind over this past month and although I'm not quite ready to share it, it's brewing. I started on it last night, after sitting on the boardwalk in Old Quebec, watching a man sporting a white ponytail playing an accordion and a little girl with long blonde hair dancing to the Parisian tune. Her name will be Petunia and that's all I'll share for now. My problem with writing stories is that if I don't sit down and write it one shot, I have a hard time revisiting it. Most stories just seem to write themselves though, don't they? Such is life, we are all writing ours as we speak and although they may take some unexpected twists and turns here and there, we each create our own reality. So here I am creating mine, taking a break from my supper plans, trying to reach out and inspire yours as I struggle to type on my mom's IPad. It's funny about life.

Neverella.

Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a girl named Neverella.  Her mother died when she was very young and her father married an evil woman who had two even eviler daughters.  She was forced to do all the chores, vacuuming, washing the dishes, even picking up the dog poop.  The two sisters, Annie and Dizzie, never had to lift a finger.  Instead, they made fun of Neverella and told her she would never marry a prince.  She was good-for-nothing and Neverella believed it.  She was a very unhappy girl. She grew up hating herself, turned to drugs and alcohol as comfort, and left the family home when she was 17.  She found herself on the streets, hooking for money and vowed never to wash a dish again.  She never went back home, and the family was better off without her. One day, on an acid trip, a fairygodmother visited Neverella and told her if she didn't clean up her act, she would die within a few months.  Neverella shrugged her shoulders and wished for more cocaine an

Nashville

5 or 6 years ago I decided I wanted to go to Nashville.  I went to PEI instead.  Today, just now in fact, I booked a week in Music City and it's about time I did. As I sit in my lovely kitchen in my lovely plateau apartment, I can hear my downstairs' neighbor singing along to a romantic French song... We all have it in our hearts and I just love how certain tunes can set our hearts flying. I'll be spending at least a day or two in Memphis, I've always wanted to go to Graceland and it turns out Cory Branan is playing a show the Friday I'd planned to leave so maybe I'll have to detour there again.  I've seen him perform twice already in a few months; he was a member on The Revival Tour , which redirected my life in a way I can only describe as serendipitous.  But it was no accident I was there.  At the time I was still living in the mouse house and seeing that show ignited a new focus for me. Over the past year I've been taking steps towards a stro

S-T-Y-L-E

I was just listening to 6 Underground by Sneaker Pimps and was brought right back to high school.  I remember doing my hair to match the singer's, and in my convoluted teenage brain, I thought I looked just like her. The music industry has such power of style.  Growing up, watching music videos, garnering my own identity from the pieces of my idols' influence, I was quite the mismatched, hybrid of a teenager.  I dressed like a hippie-skater-raver-gramma-boy, had misguided aspirations to be like Janis Joplin, thought wearing corduroy on both top and bottom was cool and once sewed back together a dress belonging to my mother in the seventies, from a well in my grandparents' front yard.  It was surprisingly well-preserved in a garbage bag, save for the thread that biodegraded over the years. I remember the day, and even though most of my family members probably thought I was crazy, they didn't stop me.  I wasn't one of those teenagers trying to wear shorter skirts

Open Sesame

The concept of open relationships has been on my mind the last couple of days.  Maybe it's the Fringe Festival already getting to me, being surrounded by artists and alcohol... But it seems like open relationships are like the little-known drug in Montreal.  You probably know a few people who are into it, but you don't really talk about it because it's slightly taboo. I once knew a guy who had two girlfriends.  Actually, I'm pretty sure he was in a three-way relationship, and they all dated each other.  From what I understand, it didn't end well- there was simply too much jealousy involved.  I have also met a few musicians who just assume it's understood that monogamy is not really part of the deal.  I bartended a wedding two weeks ago and watched as a couple openly flirted with other party-goers, in front of each other.  They laughed and she said, "we're monogam-ish."  I thought that was pretty clever, but still felt a little uncomfortable by th

Venus Envy

Yesterday evening I found myself hiking up a giant hill in the pursuit of Venus.  I'd heard l'Université de Montréal was inviting people up to the mountain to observe the Venus Transit, and when I got to the top of the hill I realized I was in the wrong place.  The music department.  A graduation.  Not Venus. I turned around frustrated with myself, and google mapped my way to the right spot.  I arrived and found maybe a hundred people or so lazing about on the grass, sitting, waiting, watching.  Cameras and telescopes were set up along the way, some serious high-tech gear.  I looked around to see if I knew anyone but was surprised that it was mostly young people hanging out.  I spoke to someone who told me we were waiting for the clouds to clear. I sat down and paused while I checked my surroundings, like we were waiting for God or a UFO or something magical to descend from the sky.  Instead we were just watching clouds gathering, until they grew dark enough that it was tim

Deep Kids

I love it when my students inspire me.  I always start classes with gimmicks, I clown around, put on a little shtick to win them over and then I go in for the kill with the deep stuff. Today I was in a grade six class, talking in a southern accent about country and how the electric guitar changed music forever.  Then I asked them to think of comparisons in life, and many of them mentioned musicians like Michael Jackson and Skrillex, then a boy, who had been having a bad day so far, said cigarettes.  I wondered about how that may have played a roll in his bad mood and I loved his answer.  He got it. A kid sitting in front of him slammed his idea because it had nothing to do with music, and I saw the great divide in minds and spirits right there.  It's so amazing to me when I walk into a class and see depth in someone beyond the years that present themselves, sitting behind their book-covered desk.  Those kids stand out, you can almost tell right away, it's in their eyes.

Skip to My Loonie Bin

I'm gonna have lentils and peas popping up in all kinds of corners today. Sounds like a good start to song. Well, it's 8:45 am, and I just finished cleaning up an awesome mess of my lunch on my desk.  Rice, lentils and veggies sprawled all over the place.  People will be questioning the green goo squashed on the floor and the pieces of food turning up around my desk.  Did I mention my office is in the staffroom? All joking aside, this is a turning point. This morning I woke up about an hour earlier than I usually do, and I suppressed the urge to snooze and actually got out of bed.  This is rare in Katie-World, especially of late.  I was pleasantly surprised to find the straightening job I did on my hair last night remained in place, and I was feeling good.  I made myself a smoothie, put rice and lentils on in my cooker and even threw some vegetables on the stove to steam.  Wow, making myself a REAL lunch, the day I'm going to eat it.  I think it's a first. I p

Tap Your Foot

I'll get right into it. Yesterday after school, a couple students came into my office, as they regularly do every Friday, to hang out while waiting for their friend in detention.  But this time they brought guitars, and decided to jam right there, as if I didn't have anything important to work on.  I didn't.  In fact, I welcomed this impromptu jam and enjoyed as they showed me what they'd been working on.  One of them played me some Clapton and a bit of Aerosmith. A few minutes later a teacher walked by and poked his head in to watch as they played.  Turns out he's been playing guitar for 35 years and is in the band Roma Carnivale , a Montreal band I've been dying to see live.  10 members playing, as he described it, Gypsy punk.  He came in and offered a few pointers and I just sat their, in awe.  Musicians in the making. They spoke in a language I didn't understand, "the riff is in A but the song is in C."  C-7, A-7 formation... I was lost.

Crying

There's a song at the end of Dazed and Confused that always makes me feel like the story is wrapping up, I know the credits are near, everything has come together and it's time to move on.  Tuesday's Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.   Great song. I was just listening to Ryan Adam's new iTunes Session album, and was struck with the same feeling.  It seems the best songs that hit home are always the ones that feel like they summarize your experience, like they speak to you in ways that others don't. I've never been a big fan of pop music.  Fluffy lyrics that distort reality and make girls feel inadequate don't interest me.  Music that speaks to the soul... Now that's where it's at.  Sometimes it's not even the lyrics that do it, sometimes it's the pace, the intention or the light-hearted voices that lift me up. I picked up The Very Best of Roy Orbison last week, I've been craving the sound of his voice recently so I finally caved and bought

Show Poetry - Planet Smashers

Keep your arms up and open, Keep smiling, Stop grappling; Let the motion take you. Fight for what it's worth, Do your hair and look out For your neighbor. Hip tattoos, Four green spikes, Hairspray and egg whites Tambourine ear wax, Solos, glasses, Trombone canoe. Humor. Wheelchair. Order. Clap your hands, Ribbon and rafters, Dreads. Slap ouch bang, Celebrate glory. Fun and love, Planet Smashers. 2012.

Candy Farm

Someone told me last night that my blogs are like candy.   But like really good candy, cuz it makes you feel good, like fruit.   I thought that was pretty awesome. The truth is sometimes I wish I could write what’s really on my mind, but I’d probably shock a couple relatives and burn some bridges, so it’s best to stay family-friendly.   Suffice it to say you wouldn’t BELIEVE what’s in my journals. ;) I suppose it’s the difference between planting a seed in people and being totally open.   Often times, I am far too impatient to let something grow and I usually go full-throttle in my pursuits, which tends to sabotage opportunities for myself, especially in the man-department.   I poured my heart out to a stranger at the theatre last night; I figure people are the best resources in times of frustration.   I thought perhaps this unknown person, with all his years of living, could help clear my mind, could give me good advice, could tell me what I wanted to hear and solve my dilemma but in

Impermanence

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May I introduce you to Chuck Ragan .  I accidentally discovered him last week and though it may sound a tad dramatic, I'm pretty sure he changed my life.  Or at least helped put things into perspective. I'm an open book.  Ask me anything and I can't help but be totally honest and up front, in the nicest way possible.  I wear my heart on my sleeve and probably reveal more than I should in my writing, but I've discovered something incredibly enlightening this past week: impermanence. Last Monday I posted a beautiful picture of my beautiful mantle in my beautiful living room and entitled it "Impermanence."  See, I don't get to keep it.  I'm actually moving out.  It seems the fates and the universe are ushering me to a new place, and it's not in Manoir Old Orchard, as I'd so hoped.  It turns out it's been more of a nightmare than a dream home.  I think the mice was the last straw.  But they'd probably eat that too, so it's time

Popcorn Farts

Seems like an awkward way to meet someone, doesn't it?  Over a fart. After the awesome show I went to last night, which I will tell you all about later, I went to an awesome party featuring bands, ponies, and a pie-eating contest.  Yes, I said ponies.  There were two of them. Anyway I was watching one of the bands play some rockabilly in the living room, when someone let it rip, something fierce. And there were enough people to blame it on, but I made eye contact with the guy standing next to me and I said, "Someone's just making popcorn."  He laughed and blamed me and then walked away.  Later I saw him outside and the blame continued. I honestly thought someone had made popcorn, but the culprit later admitted it to me when he let one go again.  How much popcorn does one man have to eat to make it stink like that?! Drew and I hit it off but I guess he could never get past the thought that my farts could smell so bad, I later saw him hitting on another lady, wh

The Birds and the Bees

It turns out I gave a couple family members cause for worry with my last blog post.  Perhaps they are of a certain generation but they raised a very valid point that maybe us 30 year olds don’t consider in our pursuits anymore because we’re adults… But safety should always be a concern when meeting someone on the internet.  Do you really know what kind of person this is just based on a profile pic and some words?  Please just meet and stay in a very public place.  Don’t go for walks along the pier.  :)   All things considered, I’d like to think I’m a lot less naïve than when I was 22 and coming into my own.  I always learn from my mistakes even though it may take a few years for me to realize it. Nonetheless, attraction has been on my mind all week, and I’m sure it has something to do with the nice weather we’ve been having.  I swear to God I've been smelling like a billion different colognes in the air.  We’re so primitive in the Spring! But that got me thinking, why are we att

Cyber Optic

OkCupid, Plenty of Fish, Lavalife, Veggiedate... hell, even eHarmony... Like a fad diet, I've tried them all. The first person I met online turned out to be my first love, believe it or not.  I wouldn't admit it to a lot of people at the time, but I met him through the QCHC website (Quebec Hardcore), back in the day.  His band had a page and I complimented them for a great show, then we started messaging each other... decided to go for a date and the rest is history.  This was before online dating was sort of taboo, so I guess it was cool. Since then, unfortunately, I haven't had much luck meeting people on the internet.  I've probably put myself in a couple of risky situations though, including a party filled with navy guys and a questionable walk along a remote part of the pier in Old Montreal: "One time I was on this date with a girl I met online, and I took her here, and I said to her, wouldn't it be funny if I threw you in the water?  No one would be