Many people I know visit Montreal every year, hell every day. Often I find myself on the receiving end of questions such as “Where are the best spots to eat poutine?” or “Can you send me a list of your favorite terrasses?” My personal favorite of course is, “What are the best hidden gems?” I…

The days are long but the years are short. Yet I’ve still somehow managed to fit as many possible cliches into that breadth. I’ve been the Starbucks obsessed middle school basic white bitch. I’ve been the drug addled teenager partying with people much too old to be around. The daughter with daddy issues dating rich…

Cicadas hum drones out the incessant small talk and rote repetition of fake cheek kisses from people who reek of cigarettes, rotting molars and stale pork pate burps.  Someone is visiting Peru, she is excited to see Machu piccu. Inca ruins are awesome I say, the Mayan ones are my favorite. Something about the sickeningly…

Tell me about it. No, I’m serious tell me all about it. I’d love to hear it. And I’d love to help. Let me carry this for you, let me help you understand why you reacted this way. Let’s use gentle words and “I feel” statements and let’s figure out some tools we can have…

I remember someone told me that to be a good writer it is imperative that you were once a very sad, sad child. I scoffed, but actually I don’t know why I scoffed. This statement was entirely true and relatable. In fact I felt its truth in all the phantom baby teeth still jammed somewhere…

I was leaving for the rest of the summer. Telling my boss about our road trip. For some reason he assumed we were going to Toronto first, that was not even a stop on our trip. The ten hour drive there is a long one, he laughed, especially when your whole family is in one…

Sometimes I feel very disconnected from my hands. Even as I type this, it feels as though the hands that fly across the keyboard belong to an adolescent. Stubby fingers and undefined bones moving choppily under skin I can hardly reconcile as my own. These small hands lack the grace and elegance I feel I…

My mother hates when I talk like a Valley Girl. She rolls her eyes and sighs more dramatically than me, she tells me I sound stupid and fake. But it’s like, so totally fun, and girl if it makes me smile shouldn’t I like, so totally do it? But that explanation does not cut it…

My coral pink lipstick is pristine but I’m in the bathroom touching it up anyway. Painstakingly outlining my lips in a nude-y brown shade and filling them in with a perfect pink color that pairs stunningly with my bright blue eyes. After a few layers of pink, enough so that my lips feel dryer than…