If you've been waiting to read a portion from my upcoming book The Dad Rock That Made Me a Woman, today is your lucky day! Big thanks to Luke O'Neil and his incredible newsletter Welcome To Hell World for featuring an excerpt, an essay featuring one
I can hear the theme music in stale and still air. Even with my eyelids closed and sleep on the horizon, it’s there. Hunting without terror, a lingering spirit calling me closer to the edge. Obsession in synthwave, dancing in 7/8 time, taunting, teasing. Enticing. I read a
Blog Posts
I am nothing if not open to being called to action in order to write a meandering blog post on something I actually have a lot of thoughts about but wanted to spare you a diatribe.
Essays
Note: this is a piece I wrote to read on stage for The Basement Revue, a yearly music/literary variety show here in Toronto. I thought it would be nice to include it here in the newsletter at the end of the year as well. If you'd like
Spotify is a garbage ball rolling around the idea of a life and gathering all things onto itself, like a kind of Wario Katamari Damacy.
I wrote a book. It wasn’t always going to be this way. One day I just decided to run. I packed two bags of my belongings, left the Yukon, landed in Toronto. Stayed in the spare room in a loft next to a pretty good coffee shop in the
Essays
There’s a lot to be said about saying fuck it and grasping for all your desires when everything feels like it’s falling apart at a rapid clip.
It was a stupid fucking costume. A last minute costume for a last minute party that I didn’t really want to go to at all. It was a party that I had wanted, that we had all wanted and asked for. Begged for, almost. When you have a friend
Halloween is the worst holiday for DJs. Outside the very narrow margins around the Monster Mash there are very few good danceable Halloween songs. Maybe Halloween just isn't the season for dancing, despite what all the skeletons who play their own bones as instruments will have you believe.
I can’t say this for certain, but I believe part of preparing to release a book is psyching yourself up for people you’ve never met to hate you for the rest of your life. This is where I’m at in the process, or at the very least
I didn’t get Oasis tickets. I couldn’t really afford Oasis tickets, but I wanted to believe I could afford them, and what is being alive if not believing you can afford all the things that might ruin you? I got my little special presale code in my inbox
Lysh and I went to see PJ Harvey here in Toronto. On the east end of town, which if you live in Toronto and you live in the west end you’ll know can feel like driving to the moon. It has to be worth it, even though it’s not really that far, but far is relative, and distance means nothing.
