Why Speed Dating is Terrible

I love this.

I want to hang out with Candy all damn day.

Actually Candy reminds me of one of my friends, and I’m pretty sure the stripper story is her story…

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#MoonbeamLevels

He said he’ll never keep diaries 2 learn from his mistakes
Instead he’ll just repeat all the good things that he’s done

 

I…

Don’t know how to feel about this song. ABC had a listening party for Prince fans and…

While part of me is thinking “YES! New Prince MUSIC!!”, there is another part of me that feels like he wouldn’t want this. One of the reasons I’m such a huge fan of Prince is that he is (sigh…was) such a perfectionist. This is a man who trashed an entire album because he felt that his spirit wasn’t right when he recorded it.

One superfan even said, “this sounds like a bootleg…it sounds like a demo…it sounds like a Revolution track”

For me, I hear pieces of The Beautiful Ones in here…which makes sense since this track was reportedly recorded in 1982, and The Beautiful Ones in 1983. I can imagine how Prince might’ve taken elements of the musical arrangement and then used them for the song he considered to be the better version.

Ultimately, I’ll be selfish and listen/buy Moonbeam Levels. Or, I’ll put The Beautiful Ones on repeat.

xo

May U Live 2 See The Dawn

 

 

#thisis40

If you had asked me 30 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve stared at you with a blank expression, because I would have no idea how to picture something so far away.

If you had asked me 25 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve cried, because I was convinced I’d never live to see it.

If you had asked me 20 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve answered, “bitter and lonely…”

If you had asked me 15 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve been hopeful and a little bit scared. But I wouldn’t have had a clear answer.

If you had asked me 10 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve cried, because the one person I thought would live to see it, didn’t.

If you had asked me 5 years ago what 40 would look like, I would’ve stared at you like I was 10 years old.

Today. If you ask me what 40 looks like…

bare
This is me unfiltered. No #AliciaKeyes…I’m going to Sephora to restock on the weekend. 😛

This is 40.

It took a long time to get here, but I’m here.

I’m surprised.

I’m grateful.

I’m bitter…sweet.

Those of you who are still on their way: don’t rush it. Take it all in. We’ll be here when you arrive. Trust me when I say the ride is worth it.

 

xo/rr

Know Your Place

Okay. This weekend I had an encounter that left me annoyed.

I went to an amazing party called #Gumbo on Saturday night. I went alone, but that’s the beauty of Toronto…you can go somewhere and see at least three people you know*.

(*and apparently one who knows you but that’s another story…)

At the party, I get to bump into one of my favourite people, the insanely talented Tanika Charles, freshly back (safely!) from the US. Big hugs and we immediately try to catch up on life stuff. In the middle of story, we get this:

“Excuse me…but why do you have Mandarin Chinese characters? What do they mean?”

About once a year, I’m asked about my tattoos. Yes. They’re in Chinese. Yes. I’ve confirmed that they mean what I wanted them to mean. Yes. I know what style they’re written in…

I explain politely what they mean and why I have them.

Dude proceeds to interview me Dateline style about my tattoo. I feel like each time I’ve answered, that my tone conveys that “okay, we’re done yes?” subtext. If not, there’s my facial expression: bored. My body language: turned away. My eyebrow: definitely arched at some point.

But NOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Mr. Journalism 101 continues asking questions.

Please remember, we’re at a party and it’s loud. Which means half of this convo excludes Tanika.

Oh. Mr. Journalism 101 has not even asked my name.

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Finally he asks my name. I gave him one of my nicknames. He then turns to Tanika and asks her name…

Me: “you don’t know the voice of Canadian RnB? Whaaaa?”

(Shameless plug: BUY SOUL RUN RIGHT NOW)

Ms. T demurs…but she’s never been a braggart about her talent. I on the other hand, brag every chance I get (see above)…Journo 101 admits that he doesn’t know her. I’m about to go into my full pitch (it’s a reflex), but Ms. T gives the clue that she doesn’t want to be “on” at the moment, and I pipe down. I say to him, “here, give me your phone…”, which he does eagerly.

Silly rabbit.He thought he was gonna get my number. I only gave him three letters of my name, why would I give him ten digits?

I google Tanika’s name and screen cap it on his phone.

“Here. Tomorrow look her up. Listen. Buy the album.”

“You think I would forget this conversation?”

“Yes. I think you would.”

“You think I would forget all that you told me about your tattoos…?”

“Definitely.”

(please do…please forget)

He then turns to Ms. T and chats for a moment. He turns back to me and says, “…hopefully I haven’t intruded on a conversation or that I should go…?”

He gives me a hopeful smile.

“Yes. And…yes.”

He FINALLY realizes he’s not wanted and says his g’byes. Promises Tanika he will look her up. Thanks her for the convo and gives a half handshake, half hug thing that totally catches her off guard. He turns to me for a hug and…

I hold my hand out.

He shakes it while thanking me for the education in tattoos.

“You’re still holding my hand…”

He makes a hasty retreat.

Dude… KNOW YOUR PLACE**

 

**”Know Your Place” will now be the title of my future memoirs…thank you Tanika for the title!

Sigh…

Hearing a lot of stories about how parents who don’t do shit for their kids.

Despite the crazy…my mother has done a lot for me.

*picks up phone*

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just calling you randomly to tell you you’re an alight mom. A good one sometimes…”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. It is a random call…that’s what random means.”

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“Oh! Thank you! Tell the dog that I need to buy him some new toys. Because I know you haven’t. That poor thing.”

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By the way…I went to fix her computer last weekend. Noticed that in her email she has a folder specifically for my dog. It’s where she sends the photos I send her.

I’m a sub-folder to my dog.

 

The Kindness of Strangers

It’s cold outside.

Can’t wait to get on the train. Why couldn’t I be on vacation with the rest of the family…?

WHAM

Stars all around me.

Damm that was embarrassing.

The man in the blue suit asks if I’m okay; he tells me not to move.

There’s a girl by my feet. “Hey girl, you alright?” I turn to look at her.

Damn. My head hurts

The man in the suit tells me not to move: I’ve hit my head. I hear the girl by my feet say to someone that she’s on the phone with 911. It’s not that bad. I can get up. The man in the suit rubs my back and tells me not to move. There are more people

Seriously, this is getting embarrassing. I reach to where my head hurts. It’s wet. Is that…?

I hear the girl on the phone, “…she’s bleeding, please hurry!”

Ow.

Okay, seriously. This ground is cold.

OH SHIT! I’m going to be late. Where’s my phone? I reach into my bag. The man in the suit asks if he can make the call. Is it family? No. My students. They’ll be waiting for me. I just started this job. I can’t just not show up. I make the call and tell them what happened. Great. Now I’m going to be late on top of everything else. Lemme just move…

Ow.

The girl by my feet has shooed away bystanders. Tells someone to go inside the pharmacy to get me a compress. Another man shows up. The man in the blue suit continues to rub my back. I tell him it’s cold. The girl by my feet says that the 911 operator said I couldn’t be moved. The man from the pharmacy asks if I need anything else and holds a cold compress to my head. That’s really going to keep me warm. I tell him I’m cold. A woman brings me a jacket and they drape it over me. People walk by and ask if I’m okay. The girl by my feet explains that they’ve called an ambulance.

She starts to pace up and down beside me. “Where ARE they?”

 “Is there anyone we can call for you?”

“My entire family is out of the country on vacation. Unfortunately there’s no one…”

Mikey! I can call Mikey! He lives close by. The girl sees me reach for my phone.

“Actually. Can you call my friend Michael?” I unlock my phone and hand it to her. The man from the pharmacy continues to talk to me. It’s cold. I just want to close my eyes. Or get up off this ground. I move a little to the left.

More stars. This is really hurting. I can feel the bump throbbing.

“What’s your name…?” the girl asks. I tell her.

“Dang. Wrong Michael.”

I hear a man describe me to someone on the phone. The girl asks him if that was 911. They’ve called again. How long have I been down here? The man in the blue suit is still rubbing my back. The girl is still pacing by my feet. It hasn’t been THAT long has it?

”Is this Michael…?” I hear her say. “We’re with your friend…she’s had an accident, and we’ve called an ambulance, but SHE’S OKAY (am I?). We’re right by Simcoe on Queen. She’s hit her head. Yeah. We’ll be here.”

“I got the right Michael. He’s on his way luv…”

Black boots appear in place of the girl.  “Ma’am? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Well. Y’know. I’m on the ground. My head is bleeding. Maybe…not?

Matching black boots appear. A radio crackles. They’re cops. I hear the girl say, “YES. We’ve called 911 twice now. It’s been over 15 minutes since I called. She’s been conscious and responsive. She’s even used her phone. How long will the ambulance take?”

The black boots shuffle around me. The woman who brought me a coat is talking to the man in the blue suit. She’s a security guard and needs to get his info. He gives the information and leaves. The man holding the compress to my head talks to the security guard. I hear her ask the girl by my feet for her info. One of the cops says that she can go. She refuses to leave until the ambulance arrives. “Work is work. It’ll be there when I get there…”

“Most people don’t think that way these days.” Says the cop.

“I learned the hard way…”

Sigh. Late for work. My head is killing me. I can’t move. It is FREEZING down here. How long do I have to wait?

Mikey arrives. “Ohmygodareyouokay?” I ask him to call and give him my phone.

The black boots start to shuffle. I think I see flashing lights. The girl by my feet says “FINALLY!”

Finally a lady paramedic is helping me up. I see all the stars.

“Okay. We’re just going to get you to bend your knees. You’ve been down there for some time…”

(REALLY? Hadn’t noticed.)

They wrap me in a warm blanket and wheel me to the ambulance. Mikey is by my side.

Why couldn’t I have been on vacation?