save the cat! goes to the movies-blake snyder

this book is widely recognized-shoutout to su for recommending it to me. i am still reeling with gratitude for the opportunity to write a script for a dream project that is being realized, and it’s really great that i finished it. i love new forms of writing, and i’m certain that the weekly workshopping that came with writing in the city was the perfect concurrent meeting to sustain the gusto to do it. i can’t wait for the notes and next steps, and to announce more about the show as more details become available to announce.

(i’m so blessed to have such talented and hilarious friends).

i appreciate the structural guidance of the book, as well as the breakdown to a lot of impact-full films (i did put the original on library hold as well, to see how this applies to scriptwriting scriptwriting), but the one point that i am holding on to and still thinking of is this:

the evil (or terror) of the ring and the exorcist is working mothers.

mind blown*

but it’s true-when you decide to go back to work and let tv be your babysitter, you sacrifice your child. also, i’m not sure the exact storyline of the exorcist (increasingly, i’m wondering if i remember any movie that i’ve ever seen-i recently forgot the porn addiction part of love, sex and eating the bones) (but then yesterday, i also forgot that i had to dial the area code before the number and wondering why i couldn’t get through to beck taxi because i have that number memorized) i’m sure there’s a completely sensible reason on why you should never outsource childcare or seek to work outside of the home because your daughter will definitely be possessed.

this book brought be back to the truth that i took out of film studies, which is that films are a reflection of the world as it was at the moment of filming, as well as a projection of the reality of the ideal world as it was at the moment of filming. i am saddened to know that we’re back in the swing of the pendulum where our lives and choices as women are still under such scrutiny.

i am also questioning my automatic aversion to scary movies-maybe if i see them through the lens of “what imagined societal evil is this trying to combat?”, i might not be so scared.

but it is fitting that the movie that set this precedent in my brain when i was in university was the ring, a movie that scared me so much that i didn’t sleep for four days and called a sleepover with friends on either side of me to self-medicate-perhaps i truly got it after all. because the patriarchy is fucking scary.

and so, we work.

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seventy bucks (bag check)

so here’s the thing-i like to spend money. i’ve been debt-free for over two years now, always pay off my monthly balance, and earn an honest living. i also support artists, make donations to the library and worthy causes, and generally share liberally.

that being said, i’m sure that i could’ve spent some of my retail therapy on therapy therapy, but everyone self-medicates, right?

i worked a weird split shift today so that i wouldn’t have to go in on my day off tomorrow, and in between, i went up to nations. i wasn’t ready for the sensory overload, but how does one get ready for that?

i completely zoned out and rolled my cart through the aisles, grabbing ingredients to make every vietnamese dessert i know how to make.

here’s what $70 got me from nations:

-one sachet of dried guyabano
-one sachet of green tapioca pearls
-one sachet of dried phillippine mangoes
-one sleeve of glutinous rice pastry
-one pack of mung bean vermicelli
-one large chunk of pumpkin
-one generous bag of pea tips
-5 pack of sesame instant noodles
-one japanese matcha cake
-one bag of persimmons
-three purple sweet potatoes
-one sleeve of duck egg and lotus pastry
-one pack of frozen durian
-one pack of rice paper rolls
-one rum raisin and hazelnut ritter sport chocolate bar
-one bottle hoisin sauce
-one bottle of sesame oil
-one pack of bamboo shoots
-one can of bananas in syrup
-one can of grass jelly
-one can of nata de coco
-one can of palm seed

a few weeks ago, i blinked at sephora at sherway gardens and spent $70 on 8 mini lipsticks by kat von d.

i am living my best life, y’all.

parkdale, 6.

“sometimes, you have to kill your puppies”

sometimes, the advice that you get in writing workshop confirms everything that is happening in your life.

i have been feeling some rage lately-i just want people to be better, and know how to express their feelings without hiding behind grossly re-imagined texts and emails. i left work just early enough to slide into the abbott for tea and got the satisfaction of stamping all the paper cups and ranting to the lovely katherine.

first, the quotes of my amazing and talented co-writers for further pondering:

“we periodically take her on a magical mystery tour”

“it sounds like a shortcut to creativity”

and now, my poetry of the night-the faux sestinas, first from my free write, and then from everyone’s free writes. this time, i contributed “grimace” because “pork hock” was not accepted:

pork is a tough sell
it inspires grimaces, religious and secular
with stalkery byproducts-check your marshmallows
though flexibly delicious atop all of the starches
rice, potato, perogy, bread, noodles
an unintentional service announcement
merely a statement of facts as i have no hocks to hawk

so frustrated
trying to livestream
the octopus
hiding in water
inspires only grimaces
what is the formula?!

we started editing, and it was nice to look back on all of our writings, and i did find a piece to develop for the parkdale time capsule, but it’s more of a piecing together of many writings, rather than one to be edited.

(i forgot to find the emotional centre).

oops.

once again, i’m so great-full for the time and space and writings shared with this group.

parkdale love letters-week three

for the first time last week, i left the workshop with a piece that needed work and re/work. i knew from the free write that it would be the night that i pay tribute to dov, and i had just come from jim wong-chu’s memorial the night before, so i was feeling a bit bittersweet and tender. but that’s the thing about writing-it’s always got me through.

i lit some incense for these friends and mentors yesterday, imperfect as they were, and went out into my community to celebrate strong women and also to cry in the ceremonial space that was walking with our sisters-it’s kind of hard to fully celebrate when the misogyny and art that comes from healing is so real. the top part of a moccasin is called a vamp (i learned this), and a gymnasium full of decorated yet not sewn into a full shoe (to represent the unfinished lives of the missing and murdered indigenous women) was so power-full and so shame-full (hey, canada). i crumbled at the first baby one, and cried angry tears at the ones that had dates-1971 stands out-some people have been waiting for justice for their loved ones for 8 years before i was born, and many more have been waiting so much longer. one set were covered in garbage bags and stated “we are precious. we are not your disposable garbage”. the beadwork, the needlework, the mourning, and the artistry that came out of the creativity necessary for survival was flooring and another reminder of the inequality between women and men, because even when we are navigating the most violent of circumstances, we are the ones shouldering the responsibility of educating and coping, all while our bodies are the battleground.

and they call us crazy.

well.

there were a lot of feels that came out of life last week, so here’s to starting this one with some process:

i chose two pictures tonight
because of their warmth
no one was in the frames
but lights were the sign of life

i took a picture of you once
at the Cadillac Lounge
whisky was in the frame
but no physical copy exists
you’re as tangible as you ever were

drawn to your smoky drawl
country in the city
art on your arms and music in your heart
i suppose i chose warmth thrice

i once saw you cry because
your wall was covered
immediately after you painted it
and i am still moved
when i hear that old soul singer
you introduced me to
now especially

frozen water
still water
live

reflecting the light
evidence that we were here
but also that we’re not

you went back to the ocean
home forever
except the part of your essence
that remains in Parkdale

i hold space.

top 4(:44)

here are my top 4 quotes from this album:

4) “your body language is remedial”

there are a lot of specific instances of petty shade on this album (“lazy eye, no biggie” “in the future other ni$$as playing football with your son”) but this general one is hilarious.

3) “i apologize, because at your best, you were love”

is he actually, finally acknowledging aaliyah, all these years after her death?

2) “daddy, what’s a will?” or “daddy, what’s a whale?”

i mean, i’ve listened to this numerous times, and i don’t know which babygirl is saying, but either is perfect. considering that it segues into a track about legacy, it could be her plotting for his early death. conversely, she could just be fucking five years old.

but khaled‘s kid is already an executive producer of an album so….

1) “everything is chaka

in light of the current challenge (nobody beats issa and regina-no one even comes close) i think it’s worth noting that this child raps better than a lot of folks with real records out.

also, it means that half of my favourite quotes come from the on the run superchild, and i’m fine with that.

overall-it’s a great album, best and most listenable in a long time (i didn’t think we were coming back from magna carta, tbh).

also, i got it from the library-on cd.

remember those?

a question and answer for kendrick

dear kung fu kenny,

a) why do you want biyombo to sit down? we could really use him on our team still

b) the answer to your question “how many ni**a$ get mistaken for clitoris in a day?” is none, nada, zip, zero, goose egg, just nope.

the clitoris exists merely for our pleasure.
nobody in their right mind would ever mistake a man for that.

thank you and you’re welcome,
flossy.

why why why

so, before i went in for the procedure yesterday, the nurse went through the rules about what not to do, and amongst them was not to douche.

it’s 2017-we haven’t learned this yet? who is still doing this?!

DO NOT DOUCHE. ANY TIME FOR ANY REASON.

but then again, i have also read the following instructions:

1. unwrap
2. put in mouth
3. chew

on a gum wrapper as well, so perhaps we do still have work to do.

on all fronts.