It's raining. Snuggled up with tea, aforementioned flannel pjs, Empire of Illusion, the little cat, and some slow jams. All quiet on the west-end front.

Christmas flannel.

aaaaaaaaaahahahahahiohagdhaidhahahahahahahhahahahahahahaahah

wee oo wee oo

Stress, innumerable hours, and countless edits later, I give to you...

Best Of 2011 Mixtape

Her ear against his shoulder's hollow.

Atwood, Margaret. The Blind Assassin. 1st Edition. New York: Anchor Books, 2000. Print. (27)

Falling as surely as the rain, please let it turn to snow.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm wasting my life."
"You're sitting on the couch eating chili and commenting on facebook photos. Sometimes that is life."

Having your work* mentioned in the most recent edition of Vanity Fair is pretty cool, I guess.




*except that, next time, it will be my work.

just get in the boxes, jesus eff

"what are you doing tonight?"

"packing."

I only want everything

My little camera sure does love green. 

I never want to hear this again/I can't stop listening to it

Life is regular. I biked through High Park, took in the colours. Work, gym, general malaise. 

Please just put your face into my hands, we could be friends.

Complete with American flag ketchup & parsley. 

Ah-mazing.

holyshitholyshitholyshit

hahahhahahahahahhhahahahahahAhHahhahahahahahahahaAhahhahahahahahaHA

HahahahHhah

ahahadfoidaifshaoisiahgdagdsogiddsgahhahahdgd

sorry, ma.

Al Capony & Charlie are all finished up.

all summer

15 times a day.

don't make me make you fall in love

Recipes that specify the usage of mixers and blenders are the worst. Hey, guys, I'm just going to be using a fork, wisp, and my arms. You ain't so fancy.

better warm up to these warm-ups

New Mariachi el Bronx on my speakers, entire text conversations made up of Clone High references, getting lost in a catalogue of photos of Newman and Birkin and Eastwood and Bowie and tonight, to the Jays. Bonering hard for Tuesday.

and so it continues

Every incarnation of this song is so good! guh.

i've just seen a face

The best weather, blazers & clompy heels, layer upon layer upon layer, and still the sun is shining and still my tea is warm. It's nearly impossible to move from bed to the balcony, Margaret Atwood, walk with me.

LOOK AT MY LITTLE GUY!

Little Gav'r! Are you so tuckered out from all that walking and cute-ing about?! Oh mah gahhhhd so exhausting!

Detroit, a (poorly written) love letter

The definitive, silently-established truth of our generation may be that we are an era rife with disdain for what yesterday was lauded as genius. Previously known for its employee policies and fine coffee beans Seattle, OR-native Starbucks now stands as a symbol of a heavily corporate, gentrified urban sprawl. Whole Foods, the Zach Morris-cell phone, lawn darts, Jose Canseco, and ICQ, all championed in the past and fallen out of public favour in the present.

Once the finest city in its nation, Detroit, too, was poised to be forgotten. Filled with the most exceptional examples of art deco architecture from the '20s, those buildings now stand near ruins, something lesser writers might describe as 'hauntingly beautiful' in their stark, abandoned existence. Previously the birthplace of America's automobiles, the Motor City suffered cruel irony as the product that put it on the map was used in droves for a mass exodus upon the economy's collapse.

Still, people stayed. Sure, some stayed because they were too poor to go elsewhere. Some stayed because they were trapped inside by the roaming packs of feral dogs which tend to run the city. Some stayed for the country's highest concentration of White Castle franchises. But most stayed when they recognized the heart within the good bones of their beloved city. Where else can one get half-pitchers for $2? Where else can they bowl for free? What other city has been called The Best Sports City in America? What other city possesses cab drivers willing to take you through the McDonald's Drive-Thru because walk-ins aren't welcome after 11pm, and will accept a burger instead of usual fare?

No, Detroit is the prom queen turned activist; an aged beauty looking for substance. And so it abounds! As Murakami said, there is a space where emptiness and substance overlap. Without question, he was referring to these streets. Quite literally empty, a quick glance at GoogleEarth will show the wild patches of green that have reclaimed downtown. Houses and businesses which were bulldozed are replaced by urban prairies, Woodward Avenue in all its finery - commissioned graffiti windows, Smilez-4-Realz grill outlets ($50 for an incisor diamond, $75 for a starter-grill) next to mom-and-pop home shops - finds its alleyways retaken by forestry. This leads visitors to feel they may have entered a dream; as they stumble in a somewhat intoxicated haze (recall those $2 pitchers) back to their hotels, fighting through bush as surely as if they were on African safari. Though at first it may be surreal, soon it feels perfectly natural to be bulldozing through quiet streets, aided in your dream by the complete lack of homeless people (because you have to be less than retarded not to find shelter amongst the 7 billion abandoned buildings).

When one stumbles into a pocket of civilization between ghost streets, the dream continues. Freshly squeezed lemonade and Coney Island hot dogs on every street corner. A massive casino in Greektown is just down the street from one of the most beautiful baseball stadiums known to man (Fig. 1 - 3). The Tiger carousel and Fly Ball Ferris Wheel may be old hat to those familiar with the city, but the constant rotation of delicious foodstuffs (Elephant Ears and Dippin' Dots, more BBQ than you can shake a stick at) is sure to have even the most stoic skeptic eating more than just their words. Once you've sufficiently stuffed yourself and thanked your server for a $6 King Can of Bud, a stop by the Ty Cobb statue is a must. Standing 13 feet of pure disregard for both the rules and social niceties, Cobb is spikes-up sliding home above the visitors bullpen. Peruse the other statues (Al Kaline, Hank Greenberg, Charlie Gehringer and Hal Newhouser) and then make your way back to the bullpen, where the visiting team is available and welcoming of fan interaction.

If you're able to drag yourself away from the ballpark (and are still hungry), Detroit is ready for you. Parks Old Style BBQ, Circa 1890 (an old-style saloon with swinging doors and grilled cheese on rye with curly fries & pickle for $3.25? YES PLEASE), the Bronx bar (craft breweries abound, despite malt liquor being the unofficial State-drink), and the Russell Street Deli are all there for you, not to mention the (approx) 1 million Mexican restaurants that the city's Hispanic populace ensures are both authentic and phenomenal.

End your day at the Majestic, a bowling alley/restaurant/bar/music venue where the bartenders will drive you home, the bowling is free for the first hour, the 24oz beers are $5, and the locals don't mind when you accidentally knock your bowling ball into their party. Everyone in Detroit is so friendly, they'll probably ask to combine groups and dance in the lanes (don't dance in the lanes). You might even find yourself invited to come watch the annual Detroit Chicken Race with them the next day.

Start your trip with an obligatory stop at Walgreens to grab bandaids and a 24-pack of Bud for $14, put it on ice in your hotel room sink (check Expedia and Travelosity for the sweetest deals, high-five your travel companions for never paying more than $80 a night at a 4-star hotel) and get ready to enjoy all the wonders this glorious town has to offer. Pay no mind to the falcons dive-bombing the wildlife in the alleys, take cover in the unbelievably awesome looking old Michigan Central Station or Vanity Ballroom if they become too aggressive, and enjoy a city touted as the New Brooklyn by those who love to fetishize the old Brooklyn in its pre-gentrified wonder. The history of the city as written by those who fled is no longer! Detroit, I love you.

sunny skies

morning bike rides kick off the best days.

'love hard when there is love to be had'

halifax

today!

Dear Juelz,

You are SIX!

(holy shit)

Today's Forced Snuggle Brought to You by Scoop Attack!

It's worse for me, little goomba, you smell like a herd of bison.

Tonight, we made wild advancements in the world of peanut butter & jelly to the tune of dreamy, sad, poppy nostalgia.

THIS JUST IN.

Summer ain't over if you can still float on a balcony, gin & tonic ice cubes clinkin' while a babe grills you dinner on his BBQ and you can lean back in a haze of smoke and reggae.

/alarmist status updates about the death of summer.

I wish you could just type "cool stuff" into Craigslist, and it would filter through all the crap for you.

please don't put your face into your hands, we could be friends

When I was younger, bare feet in the grass was my nightmare. Twigs, little rocks, red ants, there was death in the moss. Or, at the very least, there might be tiny pain.

It surprised me to realize the other day that some of my favourite moments this summer have been quietly reading in the park, spread out across the grass (except for the time I accidentally lay in a patch of honeysuckle. I'm sorry, little bees. That land is yours). There are small grass slicks across the shoulders of my tees, proud badges of early mornings and silent words. The occasional amused giggle or induced blush leads me to roll over, my hair mixing with nature and keeping it like a secret until it's rinsed out and replaced with the scent of peony and vanilla, clementine and cassis, and my feet have returned home. To the safety of tile and plush carpet, and now this is the scorned sensation.

i welcome the stars with wine & guitars

You're a beaut, Summer '11. An absolute dream.

& they're going twice as far

I feel like the most frequent thing that I say is "I have really talented, remarkable friends" or some other wording of the same sentiment. It's true, though, in that I am lucky enough to be surrounded by creatively driven and intelligent people who are continually involved in really interesting things. Bobby gave me plenty of new sounds to fall in love with during this years Live in Bellwoods and now that the videos are posted, this one in particular sticks.

SOoooooOoOOOooO GOOD, AMIRITE?

dowhatisaycauseisaidit

Will you please

just

effing

snuggle

you wonderful, stinky, difficult, phenomenal rat?

thank you.

swoooooooon

holy smokes.

Buy one pair of high-waisted pants; become a total grown up. Start saying things like "career progression plan" and "I don't need a milkshake at 11pm".

6:31pm, wasted with Kristal, reading my collection of love letters and baking chocolate chip cookies for ice cream sandwiches. Yes.

love yuh bahd

playin' with my old toys is gettin' pretty lame

Last night was perfect.

From the SuperSoaker to relieve softball heat, to the ever-growing number of fans and friends nearby, to arriving en masse at the pool. Departing in various stages of undress and soaked clothing and intoxication, to kill time before the pool is available again. From climbing in over the fence with the aid of friends to climbing out under the direction of officers and with hundreds of dives and plunges and kisses and new friends and old friends in between.

To ciders and holding hands and bike riding like little bandits home to listen to Fleetwood Mac, I just want to lay here and feel so light forever.

"You're like the movie, Firestarter. Except that you're an adult, and basically just clumsy."

Remember the summer everyone fell in love with Kristal Kent & the ladies of the OMWinners?

That was/is a great summer.

It's a pretty incredible circumstance when your favourite people are directly responsible for your favourite things.



Good on ya, Chris.

ghosted

hello, little nap jam!

This sweet diddy is best enjoyed with pb&j, lemonade, and fuzzy memories of the most fun.

big ups to buddies

So nice to see them bracelets together. I'm finishing up a few more in the next couple'a days.

barooooooo

Sarah took this when leaving my house the other day. My neighbours may be a nightmare, but boy howdy do I love their dog.

Juelz update!

How's everyones favourite snorgler doing?

Still the fahking cutest! Come here you smelly wonder! I am going to kiss your fluffy face!

In other news, she still hates being held.

dream big, girl. dream so big that if the sky falls, you're too far above it to notice.

lunch with peter pan

Wild boar sausages and gin&lemonade

driftin'

totally worth the bike ride.

Can I just have a hammock and horse in New Mexico, please.

Step II

Cross your fingers, today might be a big one.

i welcome the stars with wine and guitars

I've been outside every day, as long as possible. Picnics have become the standard, and freckles like trinkets collect. My hair gets lighter as it does longer, and I'm afraid of it becoming blonde, domestic yellow in place of my red. Oh well, the sun will have its way.

Late night bike rides clear my head, and our air conditioner is broken. Slurping ice cubes on the balcony; reading and rereading the same sentence as before. With quiet confidence, hello summer.

hey little sister,

you're a huge babe!

Double-sided tape at 9am?

Convocation just got sexy.

doo woP

Cheering yourself up in five steps:

1) Have your best friend bring over breakfast
2) Scrub the hell out of your balcony, prep for gardening (no 'before' photos of balcony permitted; it's much too embarrassing)
3) Iced coffee. Iced coffee. Iced coffee.
4) Mariachi el Bronx, loud as possible
5) Shower dance party (no slipping! champion!)

TA - DA !

good view

parks & pals

local done good.

This is so perfectly Summer-in-Toronto.

But you,

you're mine.

Wool, Leather & Wood.

partywolfclub

I'm patchin' in.

Thanks, Chris!

calgary

I am actually much more excited by the artwork than the new music.

Gregory Euclide (whose Relief paintings continue to blow my mind) posted the Making Of videos, they're so beautiful.