Katie Leggitt

The open tabs on my browser alternate between apartment listings and job descriptions.  I'm exactly where I started from a year ago, only a hell of a lot wiser to what it is to live in this city and with a very modest income.  Modest, you guys. You think you know yourself.  And then you see yourself from the reverse of what you've known for so many years, in the upside down version of your life, and you're about to turn 34, and it's 45 degrees out.  A lil extra weight for you to battle the urge to give up. I haven't been able to write these essays as much as usual since moving here.  I've started many and abandoned them quickly.  I've been kind of cocooning myself for a sense of safety in my new home. Meh.  Even condoms are only 98% effective.  Here goes. I just returned home from seeing a one bedroom basement apartment on Markham street between College and Dundas.  Sweet spot.  Beautiful house.  Narrow access to the back, a maze, some hurdles, a drunk

Oh life.  When you coincidence, you coincidence strong. Popped by the LCBO this afternoon.  I managed to put in a week's worth of 7-3pm so I decided I'd earned myself a bottle of wine to celebrate my employed triumph.  While there, I spotted a Dave-date lookalike, the American I was involved with briefly.  The one who couldn't stop writing.  The one that turned out to be a Fridge . He was much slimmer and a bit shorter but bore the same sleeve of tattoos of my former pop-punk flame.  Well, the same sleeve but not the same tattoos.  Regardless, the dude caught my eye as I admired the cheap Ontario wine and his stupid maroon sailor tuque. Dave is someone that brought me a lot of joy and then a lot of anger.  Typical musician.  I wish I had the self-discipline to sit and write a book about my love affair with musicians. Currently I'm listening to perhaps the one that inspired the lifelong battle for me, Jeff Buckley.  He died before I could ever let him know how much

A roll of toilet paper and a bucket of tears isn't exactly what you'd expect as a pre-sketch comedy show routine.  But that's what happened when, a year ago today, I learned the devastating news that a family member had been killed in a snowmobile accident. Theatre Sainte-Catherine is the last place I'd ever picture myself feeling so intensely sad.  It is usually the place where I, and the many other comedy bums hung out, riffed, and laughed louder than anyone, ever.  That's not to say I haven't ever felt sad there, I have.  It's just that the profundity to which I felt pain that night outweighed the intensity to which I'd ever felt joy there. And for a place that breeds creativity and comedy and had been a witness to my funniest moments, I felt a strange mess of alienation come over me. I wanted to run, I wanted to be in a dark corner in the freezing cold so that I could sob in solitude like I normally do.  I wanted to rip my insides out because it

March 5, 2012 Sitting on some rocks by the ocean bay near Kate's house.  The wind is strong and cold but I don't mind it. I'm so happy to be here, I needed a vacation intensely.  Reconnecting with Melissa, Kate, cousins, and myself. I'm paying attention again.  I should just move here already.  That would be great. But first, I must master the nest I'm trying to create in Montreal, and enjoy what I have going on there for a little while longer.      The ocean is so calming for me.  I needed it.                                                         Katie                                        Love. That is the first entry of the journal I just finished.  I have finally filled the inch-thick black book full of secrets and thoughts and love stories.   Today, Valentine's day, has practically caught me by surprise.  Would have been a normal Sunday had it not been for the inescapable hoopla that surrounds this time of year.  Luckily I&

I fell down a flight of stairs within 3 minutes of being awake today.   I stepped on my dog's tail and down I went.  "FUUUUUUuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUuuuuuUUUUUUCK.  I hope this doesn't determine the rest of my day." Law of attraction, law of attraction, keep an open mind, turn it around, put a smile on your face.  Eat your 1/4 rancid pb on toast.  Have a grainy coffee.  Shower it off.  Throw on a light but fresh face.  Do your hair, but not enough for people to notice (like that girl in writing class who keeps pointing out your use of a curling iron .  So demeaning somehow.) It's a gorgeous day, walk your dog in flats, sans socks.  Roll up your skinny jeans as if it doesn't accentuate your thick mid-body.  Wear sunglasses over your glasses and convince yourself you don't give a shit if people notice.  Compose a tweet.  Doubt your use of grammar and delete the tweet.  Shove that phone back in your purse.  Print out sketches, endure horrible customer service.