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why writers drink

"there's a file on here with a name i don't recognise."

"when the heck did i write this? it's kind of confusing."

"oh wait, i see now. i was playing around with the perspective. kind of clever, if i do say so myself."

"i seriously have no recollection of this getting written at all, although the ideas seem kind of familiar."

"this is actually pretty good. better than a lot of the stuff i can remember writing. whatever i was on at the time, i should take it more often."

"with a little clean-up, i think i could submit this for publication. amazing! it's like i somehow wrote myself a little present that i could find and use later. or my computer can do this on its own, which would be a great trick, but wouldn't really give me the same feeling of self-satisfaction. or the cats have evolved. julia, why are you looking at me like that???"

"hm, i haven't left myself a lot of space to get all these things resolved. i hope i didn't cut it off too abruptly." [that's what she said. -ed.]

"unfinished??? unfinished???? you fictional piece of octopus crap! you led me on! i thought i had something and it turns out that i'd started it, forgotten about it and now have absolutely no bloody idea where i was going with it?!?!!! i will take pleasure in deleting your letters, one by one, so i can watch you die!!!!"

"did i just threaten a word document?"

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as long as you're here, why not read more?

long suffering

i've been meaning to write this post for a while, but, every time i get started, something happens that makes me rethink portions of it, to add or subtract or consider a different way of looking at things. the post was originally going to be my take on a #metoo statement, but i ended up making that post on my personal facebook page. [it's not that i don't love you all, but there are a few things i'm not comfortable putting in the entirely public sphere.] but beyond joining the #metoo juggernaut, i wanted to write something about the wave of sexual assault revelations that continues to swell over the north american media landscape that wasn't about me. then i realised that that was a little more complicated than just writing "so, lotta sex rapes happenin' these days, ain't there?" or whatever it was that i was going to say.

so i tried writing something about just a part of it: the media coverage or the entertainment industry or the politicians or …

jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

making faces :: a lip for all seasons [summer edition]

this may seem like an odd time to think about summer, but not to think about coolness. it can be hard to wrap your head around the idea that summer is considered "cool" in colour analysis terms and, in my opinion, reads as the coolest of the cool, because everything in it is touched with the same chilly grey. winter may have the coldest colours, but its palette is so vivid that it distracts the eye. everything in summer is fresh and misty, like the morning sky before the sun breaks through. in my original post on the season, i compared it to monet's paintings of waterlilies at his garden in giverny and, if i do say so, i think that's an apt characterisation.

finding lip colours touched with summer grey and blue is, as you might expect, kind of tricky. the cosmetic world seems obsessed with bringing warmth, which doesn't recognise that some complexions don't support it well. [also, different complexions support different kinds of warmth, but that's another…