plus twenty weekend...

... for the twenty plus!

are there really better things to do with a thursday morning than sitting on a sunny terrasse in pajamas (and a questionable faux-fur fashion statement?) with a coffee (...among other leisurely vices...) looking out at the montreal skyline? non.






Come join me! This view could be your guest room! (though I feel inclined to warn about the creeeepster neighbor across the street who has a staring problem)


Who needs a vacation?

complot coverage

the art show I wrote for was covered by le VOIR, an independent weekly that is pretty huge in the (french) 514... cliquez le titre pour voir le critique!

& If you want to read what I contributed, I posted it a little while ago...

not off the grid !

oh, internet!

what else has the power to bring you allllll the way back to those rolling perspectives? those days that have since been shook off & shelved. barely whispered about. carried around like a cross. those times that are remembered - faintly - and then all at once, one more time, with a single image accessible to anyone and now to me. what might lies in the form! an arm around an arm and sets of knowing eyes (and smiles) should not be so strong to pull up those old wants. those ghosts. especially since the context of those times was understood as momentary.

perhaps the strength lies in its cyber immortality, for it has since taken on a fixed state of permanence and voyeurism. the transcendence and complete disregard of all that has been learned in a year can be captured by a single lens and fixed to a wall. what is dead can actually be quite alive on the internet. and it can live forever



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oh, the fear of irrelevance!

how quickly validated we are by it all! it is the proof that I was there & you were there & someone else has seen it too & can see it again whenever they want. It was captured and added to the system of symbols and significance. the bank of all banks. it narrates us, a little.

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on the eve of freedom, with a mind (and mouse) that wanders knowingly into emotionally volatile and unchartered territories, I have been thinking about the distances (or lack thereof) between cyberspace and social relationships. between here and there, my bed and yours, her body and mine. Though futile by now (as I have worn it around, down and out), I was just struck by the magnitude and depth of this paradoxical marriage. & I wondered how it will continue to make me feel when I click it again in weeks, months, years, from now.

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timing may be everything, but the internet is another matter entirely.

back to the books, Loco

Paper Jam

The Link had a BBQ to top off the end of a successful production cycle.
I was in charge of the veggies & became drunk with power.
You can catch our last issue here.









photo creds: Elsa Jabre

lunette debate

new specs. four eyes. thick prescription. minus seven. yay? nay? whatayasay?

POST TEXT: who knew that a simple pair of sunglasses-turned-realdeal glasses could cause such a commotion! People feel strongly in either direction, but the numbers are neck & neck. It pleases me to break even this way; I enjoy provoking people's assumptions and expectations of glasses. The blunt-edged honesty about the state of my face today had me cresting peaks and valleys of self-esteem and I appreciate this. Especially if it inspires a best friend on the other side of the country to be in touch after six months and tell me " ... ... hmmm ... ... yeaaaaaaah not so much." (I love you Pape.)

So what is it? the girl who lived? or the girl who lived in a fishbowl?
The jury isn't out yet.

party girl/party blog

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oh the times we had!

twitter

THIS is what I just did while I should have been studying. though finishing up an exam instead of pa-reuse-ing the news should be a priority but I feel a sort of reckless abandon at the moment. The list in front of me? staggering. absolutely staggering. tonight I have to finish a profile, a take home exam and a paper. tomorrow I am the lucky recipient of ANOTHER exam, will participate in a (fakey) focus group, apply for NEXT years courses, and prepare for masthead for my second night in the office. After working both Saturday and Sunday with my job and my job with the paper, I will write and finish ANOTHER exam and paper before putting out a second round of features. welcome to my life. one would think, in the shadow of mountainous academia such as this, that I would hunker down - and I have been - and get to fucking work - but I have been. It is in these times, when screen, brain and retina have been interlocked in an orgy of exhaustive hours, that I wonder why we academics do it to ourselves. what is it that really motivates the sacrifice to the institution? what is it that makes us weigh and merit these systems? these processes of consuming knowledge? what is the fucking point?

Granted, I have the coffee shakes. I am grumpy. I am stressed when I look at the list in my agenda, so perhaps these elements are lending themselves straight to the heart of my subjectivity about school at the moment. fuck school. schools for geeks.