Tagged: stories

Drunk girl in the Exchange

- by admin

I first saw you on Albert and McDermot

while Tyrone was taking photos of the storefronts of Rhymes with Orange and Tiny Feast

and I was standing by holding his papers and humming a song by The Weakerthans.

You were walking up the street in a tiny dress and a blazer

holding your phone in one hand

and a glass full of some sort of drink in the other

my hunch is a long island tea, but it's anyone's guess.

You walked by and kept stumbling on the cobblestone streets

and I felt compelled to say something to you

but I didn't because mostly we're taught to keep to ourselves

lest we bring trouble or interfere.


as I watched you stumble away down the block

and then across McDermot

almost falling twice

I thought "fuck convention" and started to run after you.

By the time I reached you, you were already a block away

by King and Notre Dame

and I sprinted around the corner and shouted EXCUSE ME at you.

I think I scared you but you stopped.

I asked if you were okay and you drunkenly said you were

even though your dress was half-tucked up and you'd lost that glass somewhere and I could smell the booze on you

and I thought to myself

that you would have looked really professional if your dress wasn't so short & your little boots were so high.

But that's besides the point.

I asked if you wanted me to call you a cab and you said no

so you said you would call your boyfriend and I said I'd wait with you and you said I didn't have to

but I did

and when he didn't pick up you got up and straightened out your skirt and said


and sprinted across the intersection and through an empty parking lot before I knew what was happening.

I yelled after you

where are you going?

and you said


I hope you made it back okay

to wherever your home is

because I'm still worried about you

dashing around by yourself in your high heels in the cold.

So if you read this, please let me know you're all right.

We're helping Adrian move tomorrow afternoon

- by admin

which Tyrone says he isn't excited about but I think he's lying because it's brilliant when someone gets to move into their own place and you get to share that with them.

Carrying be damned.

I moved out for the first time when I was 19 because I was sick of living in the suburbs and was fighting with my mom a lot. I don't remember what we fought about but it was awful and we were both awful and some friends were moving out together and I just kinda went

'Can I get in on this action?'

and they said yes and like two weeks later I was living in a house which was too big for the three of us and way too expensive for me but I didn't care. I walked to and from my minumum-wage job at the video game store in the mall and existed on a single small bag of salt n vinegar chips and an orange juice on the days that I worked and a few perogies on the days that I wasn't. Sometimes I had sour cream if I was lucky.

I lost a ton of weight and slept and drank way too much but it didn't matter.

Though a few months in I wound up moving to Ontario which was an even bigger shock.

Except there I was miserable and ate n drank all the time and put on all the weight I'd lost and then some.

Eventually I moved home.

I moved back in with my parents and my mum and I got along but once you've had that taste of independence it's hard to let it go, I think, so within a year I moved out on my own again and have been ever since.

I had my tiny character suite in an old building in Osborne Village and now I have my big-ass character suite in an old building in West Broadway which I love to pieces, which is also why I encouraged Adrian to move in here, too.

And by 'encouraged' I mean 'harassed him and the caretaker nonstop about it until it happened' which it has and everyone wins.

Adrian gets a super-cool bachelor pad right near campus.

My caretaker knows he has a decent tenant that he doesn't have to worry about.

And I get a new neighbour one floor down who loves beer, good food and has a super-cute accent.

Did I mention he's also single?

My life is about to become a sitcom.


Almost got hit by a car on my run

- by admin

I was running along the sidewalk on my way to meet Kat
and there's a pedestrian crosswalk at Balmoral and Young
one of the ones with the white painted lines so you know who has the right of way
that thing
and I looked to my left and saw no traffic
on the the right in the incoming lane there were two cars and one of them was turning left
onto Young
and I paused for a second and he waved at me, one of those "go ahead" motions
so I stepped out into the street and as that happened a car came swerving around the corner
some flashy silver thing
I think it was a BMW based on the hood ornament but I can't recall
and he slammed on his brakes and stopped a foot or so from my left leg.

I looked at the guy in the car and he looked back and me
with this mutual disgust and hatred
me, for his reckless driving in a residential area in a school zone
he, for, I don't know, having to stop quickly?
for having the evidence of his own recklessness pointed out to him in such an

who knows.

After a pause I kept running because what could I do, really?
kick the hood of his car
go on at length about how he would have definitely put me in the hospital
broken at least several of my bones
and how I would have sued him and taken him for all that he was worth?
There's no point.

As I jogged away it struck me how lucky I was that he hit his brakes
or that I had waited that one second to check with the other car
and how often

lately I've been telling myself that I'm lucky because my life is good
but those are all things I've done.

I chose my friends
my partner
my job
as well as the plethora of other decisions which have put me where I am
after years of hard work and stress
fighting and arguments and trying to smarten the fuck up in the process.

Which isn't luck at all, really.

That's just life.

Now, not getting hit by that guy in the car today
that was luck.
Or the universe working in its bizarre and unpredictable way
if you want to get fancy about it.
Because I don't think luck is something you earn, or create for yourself
it just happens to you
(or it doesn't).

Like tonight.

That was lucky.

Last night: a recap

- by admin


Gord and Karley threw a wicked shaker and I stayed up way too late which has resulted in a do-nothing Sunday which I really, really needed.

We did a bunch of tequila shots and it wasn't Jose Cuervo tequila which means that I didn't immediately throw up after doing it. Gord did, though, and that made me feel good about myself.

For a long time there was a Songza playlist on which was playing Rhianna and Britney Spears and nobody noticed until I brought it up and then we listened to gangster rap.

Kat and I made these wontons with shrimp and cream cheese and other good stuff in them and they were amazing and I ate too many of them and actually had to leave the kitchen so I would stop shoving them in my gullet.

I tried to learn to play cribbage and failed horribly.

Gord showed me how to make a tart except there were no eggs for the dough and we almost forgot about it in the oven and I don't actually know what happened to it after that. Did someone eat it?

Karley informed me that the sign of a functioning nuclear family unit is half-completed butterfly puzzles on the table and I almost peed myself laughing.


While on a walk to get smokes for Karley I kicked this weird box that had a pipe running to it from a fire hose and nothing happened so we walked across the street and then a weird man yelled WHAT ARE YOU DOING at us from his porch and we ran away.

This photo of Tyrone and I was taken and I fucking love how cute we are.

Realizing that the word 'enjoy' on their wedding invites was spelled 'engoy' and I laughed so hard I had to lie down on the floor for a second.

We also got totally lost on the way back and Gord didn't believe me when I found his street because you can't see the gazebo they have set up on their front lawn from two blocks away.

Ty bought me a chicken tendercrisp sandwich from Burger King and while we were in the drive-thru line some guy in an SUV passed out while waiting for his food so the line didn't move for a long time. I eventually got my sandwich, though.

Which brings us to today.

I was supposed to hang with my mum today and go have lunch in the Exchange District but she cancelled which means I've been lying around in my underpants watching Quentin Tarantino movies which is, it turns out, the only thing I'm capable of doing after last night.

Thanks, Gord and Karley Obama.

Dave Stieb

- by admin

This morning I listened to this on the bus and started laughing to myself and I scared the Asian lady sitting next to me.

She gave me these weird looks which said

"why are you cackling on mass transit what's happening"

because she didn't realize that back in the day I dated a guy from Ontario who was really into punk rock

and he would always go on about this band

called Sewing With Nancie

that he fucking loved

and Canada is such a small place that one of the dudes from that band is now living in Winnipeg and is one of my best friends

who, over wings and too much food after Connect Festival last weekend

in this awful Chili's in Saskatchewan filled with families and cooing babies trying to have fake Mexican-themed lunches

where we said FUCK and SHIT and talked about drugs

and basically made asses out of ourselves

he talked about how people LOVED Sewing With Nancie back in the day which he thought was great because

"we had two, TWO, fucking songs about the Toronto Blue Jays!"

and I remembered my Ontario boyfriend always going on about one of them when we would drive around in his car

which is what led to me listening to Dave Stieb on the bus this morning

and freaking out that nice Asian lady

because she just didn't get how ridiculous my life is.

Hot chocolate with lunch

- by admin

I know you're thinking:

Alyson it's July wtf are you drinking HC for?

it's because when I moved into my new office at work there was (is) a bookshelf with a bunch of random stuff on it and our HR lady said "if you want these hot chocolate packets you can have them" which was nice I guess.

Problem is instead of the soothing 'aah' feeling I was hoping for I'm reminded of winter and skating and hidden bottles of Southern Comfort.

Which isn't what I should be thinking about in July, I know.

I should be thinking about how in a few short hours I'll be in a car blasting Cake or listening to "Let's Explore Diabetes with Owls" on our way to BC and once we get there I'll camp and listen to music and eat Fatty Arbuckle's and party with some of my favourite people on the planet and then go soak in a hot spring before coming home to normal life for a few days before another adventure.

I'm a lucky girl with exciting adventures ahead and instead all I'm doing is thinking about that time we took Adrian skating for the first time and got tipsy on ice.

Which made for a cool photo op, but really.


Dating was the worst

- by admin

Before getting "into a relationship" Tyrone I was single for a few years while I figured my shit out
(still working on that)
and even though I didn't really want to start going on dates with anyone I figured I should probably go on a few to keep myself 'in the game' and not be the weird spinster friend who hates on happy couples because they're so lonely, waah.

Not me!

Sometimes they worked out for a little while and cute boys would play Monkey Island and drink beers with me or we'd watch Brazil on laserdisc and listen to vinyl.

But not usually.

After talking to my lady-friends I've confirmed that dates usually go like this:

Pretending to like someone and playing nice over dinner or in a dark theatre or mini golf and the whole time thinking


to nobody except yourself which is stupid because you got yourself into this situation, dummy.

You should have just said 'no thank you' to start but instead you said yes because you're lonely or desperate or maybe both
(likely both)
and dating some idiot is better than being single, right?
(it isn't)
Which inevitably leads to that awkward situation a few dates/weeks in where you wake up and realize
you're a douchecanoe and I don't want your penis near me anymore
at which time you stop texting back and suddenly get "really busy" instead of being up-front like an adult.

(There's also that one time I slammed a guy's car door in his face and ran into my house away from him, but that's another story)

Up until now I'd always assumed that this female tactic was just called "being a bitch" or "wussing out" but today I learned a much more appropriate title:

"The Fadeaway"


Ty went outta town this past weekend

- by admin

so I put on a maxi dress and made cray salad and took photos with this beaut.

We had a BBQ and lots of mixed boozy drinks at Owen & D's.

It didn't rain like it was supposed to so we sat in their backyard getting bit by mosquitoes.

who I can only assume were attracted to my pretty blue dress

which I later passed out in on a bed in the basement

which I assume is set up specifically for that purpose

or so our hosts can bone & watch TV at the same time.

I don't wanna know which.

Anyway I had the weirdest dreams which is unusual

not because I don't usually have weird dreams, which I do

but because usually when yr girl drinks there are no dreams

of weird horses and shoes and pinball machines

just dark, dreamless sleep

and greasy food when I wake up.

Which there was, come to think of it.

It's good to have constants in one's life, I think.

Yes we are eating popcorn in bed

- by admin

photo (14)

One of the great things about being an adult is getting to do what you want.

What I want at the end of most nights is to sit around in my underpants with the laptop in bed with my significant other and maybe the cats and usually tea and sometimes a snack.

Tonight for instance we are eating popcorn with sour cream n onion seasoning.

Which is wonderful for me because I was working on university stuff all night and forgot to have dinner and didn't realize till we were halfway through our evening when my tummy was all

wtf put food in me you dummy

and I was like

shit. I'd better get on that.

So here I am writing this drinking tea and eating popcorn with my significant other which is crazy to me because a few years ago I was dating someone who picked a fight with me over this very thing.

I've only ever really seriously cohabited with one person and pretty early on after moving in together I was reading a book having a snack in bed and he flipped out.

I was all

It's not big deal. Just some cheese n crackers and I'm holding the plate.

But he flipped the heck out and we had this big crazy fight and it boggled my mind because who doesn't have a lazy snack in their own bed once and a while?

The reason I thought of that was because as we were both reaching for more popcorn my hand hit Tyrone's and some popcorn got on the bed and instead of flipping out we cleaned it like it was no biggie

which it wasn't.

So now I'm sitting here blogging about it and he's reading and we're about to go turn the lights down

and I'm thinking about how funny it is that people can be so different

and how I really want some cheese n crackers.

When I was younger I knew a boy

- by admin

back when we were both in that weird stage in between adolescence and adulthood when you don't want to be around home because you live with your parents, but you're too broke and not established enough to get a place of your own.

We hung out at his place a lot because his mom was never really home between work and her boyfriend and as a result we spent a lot of time alone together hanging out.

Most of the time I'd go over and one of us would have picked up some meagre groceries with our minimum-wage job money; lettuce and meat and sometimes bread if he didn't have any, and would make huge sandwiches with big slices of cheese and mayonnaise smeared on and would watch episodes of Smallville or Rescue Me on the old couch in his basement.

Once when I was heartbroken we sat on the mattress on the floor in his bedroom and I cried and he held me and I realized that he liked me. Maybe loved me even.

I didn't know what to do so I didn't do anything.

I just let him hold me while I sniffled and shed tears over someone who didn't deserve them.

One time his house was so dirty that I came over and cleaned it while he sat on the kitchen counter talking to me and playing old records that his dad had left behind when he moved out.

He told me that I didn't have to clean and I said that I did. That I was over often enough that I'd made enough of the mess to warrant helping out and besides which his mom hadn't been home since Sunday (it was Wednesday) and it wasn't like he was going to clean, anyway.

He said okay and I vacuumed and dusted and scrubbed and we talked and after I let the dog out I turned around and he was standing behind me.

He kissed me and for some reason I kissed him back.

I realized that this had been a long time coming and I figured "whatever" and went with it when he picked me up and pushed me against the wall as he kissed me.

But when he put me down and my feet touched the hardwood floor it was like reality came back to me and I suddenly didn't know what the fuck I was doing.

I left.

Ten minutes later while I stood shivering in the snow waiting for my bus he came back and took my hand and said he'd drive me home because it was February goddamnit and I let him.

I really didn't know how to leave well enough alone.

« All tags

Older posts »