First Friday Newsletter 16

How to look dumb on vacation

First Friday Newsletter 15

I made a mistake (for love) and this is what it cost me…

First Friday Newsletter 14

To be seen in a busy world, you need to find your people.

First Friday Newsletter 13

I was 22 when I bought my first house, but it was at a time when a kid could get financing without having to sell their soul to be a TikTok influencer. It was the golden age of learning to be an adult.

First Friday Newsletter 12

In 1969, John Lennon and Yoko Ono staged a bed-in at the luxury hotel—their form of a peaceful protest against the Vietnam war. Because (obviously) the message of “Stay in Bed!” and “Grow Your Hair!” was a recipe for change. No matter. In my eyes, the actions of this eccentric couple provide great entertainment, unending motivation to follow my heart, and true affirmation that being a weirdo doesn’t make people love you less.

First Friday Newsletter 11

Book of Mercy (1984) will forever be on my list of favourite things. It is powerful and thought-provoking and vulnerable and contains every reason I’ve ever had to love Leonard Cohen. My copy is door-eared and coffee stained and highlighted with notes in the margins and a cracked spine.

First Friday Newsletter 10

In the Year of our Lord 1989 my school was part of the Fluoride program wherein (with our parents consent) we would be subjected to the disgusting communal practice of rinsing our mouths with liquid fluoride several times a year, spitting it back into its receptacle at a synchronized cue, and depositing it into the trash.

First Friday Newsletter 09

The last time I visited someone in prison I was a little fourth grader looking at my father through a thick piece of glass, a curious child who didn’t know I should feel afraid/embarrassed/sad/confused. The last time I was escorted from a prison, I was in my late thirties, a curious adult who was kind of nervous about the armed guard but too busy trying to figure out how to spin the story so I would sound “wicked cool.”

First Friday Newsletter 08

I attended a money mind-set workshop for women last quarter. It was illuminating. Not because I came away with a new $100K attitude, but because in her passion, the host began to cry as she spoke about the magic of math. The last time I cried about math it was in the twelve grade, and it was not because of magic, it was because I was sure I was stupid and it had been abusive of my teacher to insist I could handle the university track.

First Friday Newsletter 07

Mad Love is a 90s movie starring Drew Barrymore in which she drives an old yellow Beetle. One of the classic scenes shows her kicking at the back hatch in the school parking lot while Chris O’Donnell and Matthew Lillard look on. I became obsessed. I wanted that car. I didn’t care about the engine or the gas mileage or that it was basically a tin can on wheels. It was purely aesthetic for me. I was in love.

First Friday Newsletter 06

Back in the time when cursive writing was still taught in the classroom, I had a seventh grade pen pal named Buffy. She went to the elementary school two towns over and we were assigned to one another by our canoodling teachers.

First Friday Newsletter 05

For my first job, I filled planter boxes with dirt for 10¢ a flat. Even in the 80s, this would have been considered underpaid, but I guess there weren’t laws about hiring a neighbourhood kid for cash back then. (Are there now? Am I missing an opportunity to have my flowerbeds weeded for $2?)

First Friday Newsletter 04

I am a lot of things, but I have never been, nor shall I ever be, a party girl. You will never catch me on a dance floor in a bandage dress and high heels; in fact, if you ever see me in high heels (which, to me, is anything non-chunky over one inch) I’ll give you $100.

First Friday Newsletter 03

There was an eerie stillness. Loose newspaper pages danced across the asphalt. The only humans in sight were a hairy, unhomed man sitting against a fence and a boy, maybe 11, navigating his skateboard down an empty street. A gull cawed. I wondered if this was the end of the world.

First Friday Newsletter 02

It’s obviously unfair of me to have any feelings about this at all. I wasn’t even invited. And if you’re not invited, how can you miss out? I’m not even in the same country. And yet. My immediate response was jealousy and a wave of FOMO so heavy I wanted to stomp my foot like a toddler.

First Friday Newsletter 01

My son slipped out onto the platform. The doors closed. The train pulled away with five of us still inside. We were going the wrong direction, leaving one of our own behind.