I was about to brag about exerting self-control over my impulsive need to purchase a ticket to the Postmodern Jukebox tour when it stops in Toronto next February. Look at me. I stopped myself. But did I? Was this the battle or the war? The answer may surprise you. That’s the part fucking me up…

I harbour a lot of feelings about my father. Not all of them positive. But I realized last night most, if not all, of these negative emotions are rooted in the past. And as my brother Wayne said last night, “All that matters is now”. That hit home. Looking at my father today, he’s not…

I had this idea. For a blog post. I wrote it in my head. And got distracted by shiny. In this case, animal shaming pictures. Several were laugh out loud funny. Swung back over here. And. Nothing. Not a stitch. Fuck.

Just had a moment of lucidity. I’ve got problems. I’m bi-polar 2 with anxiety and depression. I’m overweight. Type 2 diabetic on insulin. Too many pills per day to manage both. I have debt. But they’re manageable. May not feel like it sometimes. I’m prone to anxiety attacks at the drop of a pin. I’ll…

Ontario’s top doctor just announced that trick-or-treating got the green light this year. Makes me a little wistful. I doubt Coltrane will want to go out. Don’t blame him. He’s at that age. So then I wished we lived in one of those houses on popular Hallowe’en streets that pull out all the stops to…

Come over to the window, my little darling,I’d like to try to read your palm.I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boybefore I let you take me home.Now so long, Marianne, it’s time that we beganto laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again So Long Marianne, Leonard Cohen…

Clearly I am distracted today. I couldn’t remember Kristen Stewart’s name. I’m staring at a photo of her on Entertainment Weekly, and drawing a blank. I can tell you four films she’s been in, but not her name. And now I’m unclear whether I took my pills this morning. I so wanna say no. But…

Thirty-one days hath October. Only two dates matter to me this month, for different reasons. Their meanings are not important. I asked the universe to please not schedule things for those 48 hours. Naturally. The universe responded. “Computer says no.” So now I rethink a trip to Brighton on my 55th birthday.

I can’t even do the right thing without doing the wrong thing.

(I’m gonna get hate mail for that title.) And scene. Can I get a non-geographical location? What? That’s the joke. It got a reaction. Lights down. Moving along. … It’s the equivalent of a blackout in improv. They’re pretty rare. Like when I was doing lights for All-Canadian Theatresports. Guy got a suggestion of street…