TOOOOOO MUCHHHHHH HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGG

I should take a writing hiatus (to accompany the sugar hiatus I keep starting) and with the exception of the speech I have to write before my kid’s bar-mitzvah (which it turns out, is only a few weeks away), focus exclusively on getting my shit together. (my tax and bar-mitzvah shit that is)

For most of the year, May is a few months off, but in April, it is not. Until now I had never given that calendaric fact much thought.

That magic in your pants, it’s making me blush

Who says that? When was the last time you were hot for someone and made reference to that magic in their pants? Or even thought it? Well Kesha did and millions sang along.

Just the right container

Oh Guatemala.

I thank you. My blog thanks you. And my readers, all 63 or 7 – depending on the day - can indulge me or click off.  

Pass me a paper bag.

Saturday I started to hyperventilate. 

I saw a front-page headline in the Globe and Mail about Laureen Harper, wife of Conservative Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper.

She’s no Michelle Obama – and that’s how she likes it. I doubt she said that.

A Can’t get Enough Week

I’ve told you almost nothing about Guatemala other than the volcanos didn’t blow while I was there. I’ve kept it to myself (for over a week) not ready to share.

Under the Volcano

I went to Joyce Maynard's memoir writing workshop in Guatemala carrying a lapis stone my friend Jane gave me.

“It’s the writing stone,” she said.

The last thing I did after getting dressed at 3:00 am on the morning I was leaving was to stuff it in my jeans pocket.

Sometimes dirt holds things together

I’m not going to make you sit through another fight between me and my blog although the last one was kind of satisfying and productive, and I was certain coming out of it that we were back on track.

Turns out we weren’t.

Birthing a suitcase

Just read a great blog post by first-time novelist Natalie Bakopoulos  about her rocky, self-doubting road to completion.

New Years Again or “I want to be a dentist”

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is one of my favourite xmas stories. I love Hermey the elf who wants to be a dentist. Arguably I’m a dentist who wants to be an elf. But I envy his chutzpah and spirit of adventure. He may be animated, but he’s inspirational. (I’m pretty sure he’s Jewish - that angst is so familiar. But he wasn't out.

Matchmaker, matchmaker or Cutting the (safety) rope

Fat news on the paid work front: I officially have none. Bye bye, shalom, au revoir, arrivederci, tata, sayonara, adios, ciao, so long Ontario Government.

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