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Vintage #Amsterdam

Amsterdam is a magical city. Modern and inviting, yet also capable of transporting you into time lost to the ages.


They wouldn’t let me touch it. I WAS DYING TO TOUCH IT.

It even had that old-book smell. They really should bottle that smell and market it to people who are secretly old ladies . . . like me.


I want to put this one on a chain and hang it around my neck.

FONT-SPLOSION! Look at that gorgeous typeface.

This Smith-Premiere was so badly damaged, I think some of the keys had capsized. Also, someone dust that thing, for the love of Gawd!

Speaking of old-book smell…

I found these at the Boekenmarkt that is held once a week near Het Spui in Amsterdam.

Haha, oh the funny things people used to write about.

Best-seller, no doubt.

*Slowly backs away*

GASP! Weird postal crayons made in Czechoslovakia that I have no idea what to use them for! MUST HAVE!

I’m being serious.

I’m sorry, did I just walk into a screensaver?

Back to typewriters! I found this hanging on the wall at Bar Bukowski, which I also visited last year.

I think Bukowski’s books in general are misogynistic, male-bravado, wank-fests, but his quotes taken out of context are damned good.

This reminds me of Edward Hopper’s “Nighthawks.”

I actually photographed this little red building back in 2006 but I didn’t record its location back then, so I had no idea how to find it again. I just used my directionally-adept nose and some intuition, wandered around for 2 weeks until I finally found it again. If you don’t know why this building is important, take ANY WALKING TOUR in Amsterdam and they’ll tell you. It’s the smallest building in the entire city.

It has the same depth as other buildings, but it’s only a metre and a half wide. Just long enough for me to lie down in. Someone was working at their laptop there…so yes, people live there.


This wasn’t Amsterdam, it was the Delft… but holy gorgeous amazeballs postcard idyllic nostalgia-ultra-acolyte!

That’s it, I’m moving to Holland. Us old-lady-grannies-in-young-lady-bodies gotta stick together.

Set your faces to stun


I can feel LaForge.

(Ps follow me on twitter, he does.)

Ermahgerd! I’m returning to Europe with Eurail.com!

Some MORE exciting travel news to announce! This has been in the works for a little while now and I’ve had to keep a lid on it, but now I’ve been given the green light to tell all of my little munchkins!

I have been selected by the good people at Eurail.com to blog, tweet, vlog & photog my way across Europe, armed with some wanderlust and a Eurail Global Pass. I have to hit up at least 12 cities in my favourite continent within 30 days, along with the challenge of posting daily about the adventures I’ll have, the people I’ll meet, the wonderful places I’ll see, and relaying some tips, tricks, and advice about rail travel.

But there’s a catch (of course!):

I have to live on €15 a DAY.


Eurail.com will provide me with the rail pass and the funds, I just have to use the funds EXTREMELY WISELY.


Many of you are probably thinking you could never travel on such a tight budget. Well, as the most frugal backpacker on the planet, I am here to tell you that yes you can.

Many people don’t travel because they think they can’t afford it, that it is a luxury reserved for the rich and idle. I know from years of travel experience that, as long as you rely on your resourcefulness & ingenuity, remain flexible, read the fine print, and pre-plan, you can have an amazing holiday adventure that costs less than a day’s wage. And guess what, you don’t have to skimp on luxury or security (or hygiene, haha) just because you’re not paying top dollar.

I’m going to start this European extravaganza directly after my Thailand & Cambodia Situation (which I have tentatively dubbed The SituAsian. See what I did there?), so expect a more detailed plan of attack around mid-November.


So how did I score this deal?

Many of my long-time readers know that I work hard to have a social media presence. Interacting and engaging in social media has not only rewarded me with writing gigs (yay paycheques!) but also with a quality of living I wouldn’t normally be able to afford (I always say that if I wanted to be rich, I wouldn’t have become a writer).

Everything from VIP music performances (DeadMau5, Dragonette, Estelle, USS, et.al.) and Toronto International Film Festival galas (barf!), to major travel opportunities.

Ford lent me car so I could take a road trip to Montreal.

Karikuy Tours sent me to Peru so I could climb Machu Picchu.

And Via Rail put me on the cross-Canada train from Toronto to Vancouver, culminating in my lecture at the Social Media Week Conference about my experiences.

And by the grace of Twitter, that’s how I managed to be selected for this opportunity as well. A little over a month ago, I saw this below tweet pop up in my feed.

It generated a lot of discussion in the travel circles, and I noticed a lot of travel bloggers vying for the gig. I ruminated on this opportunity for a few days before finally getting in touch with them and making a case for myself. I had a lot of ideas, and of course a lot of travel experience, so I knew if I were chosen for this I would definitely be able make the experience worthwhile & exciting.

After about a month of discussion and negotiations (they raised it from €10 a day to €15 a day! PHEWF!), Eurail.com chose me for the experience!


I will be revealing more details about this cross-European extravaganza around mid-November. Right now I have to divert all my efforts into preparing for my Thailand-Cambodia-SituAsian (I’m sticking with that name, I don’t care what you say).

In the meantime, munchkins, I hope more of you will be encouraged to push yourselves out of your comfort zone & experience something new!

Get cape.
Wear cape.

It’s a Twitter Miracle! Starring Eric McCormack & Christine Estima as herself

i should have known those two would be friends! ah LeVar, every time we interact, it gives me a lil tingle on the inside.

And this, my friends, is why you should all be on Twitter.

New York is such an amazing place. One where you can have lame Adrian Grenier hang times one week, and then amazing Eric McCormack hang times the next week.

Alright, I am officially celebrity-hang-timed-out. Leave me alone, famous people. NO PICTURES!


and I spelled ‘theatre’ the Canadian way, too

has a celebrity retweeted me and i’m missing it? cuz this tweet of mine has gone a bit stupid now.

it’s a decent amount of RTs, but nothing will ever top this tweet of mine which is still being RT’d to this day.

every day is a good day to go viral.

see you on the twatter, munchkins!

Justin Bieber and I are doing the nasty

i stupidly tweeted this on saturday night.

which resulted in this guy (the one with over 21,000,000 followers) retweeting me.


(click to enlarge)

….and because of this, it resulted in me being bombarded by those fucking Beliebers. I could not keep up with the thousands of Belieber tweets, RTs, favourites, and follows being directed my way PER SECOND, that STILL hasn’t properly let up yet. Now my twitter feed stinks of the most horrifying thing in the world — puberty. I wouldn’t wish this kind of attention on any other 31 year old woman.  He’s a 16 year old boy! What the fuck does he know about anything, other than X-box and masturbation? So why do SO MANY Beliebers treat him like a religious experience? He looks like a moderately powerful pokemon. He’s only famous because he repeated the word BABY more than any other human being in a 3 minute period…. like an autistic child in a maternity ward. That’s not musical talent, that’s a mental illness.

AND his voice sounds like a fox fucking a bagpipe.

Those Beliebers are TERRIFYING! They look like the sort of people you’d find in a Maury Povich holding pen. I betcha if Justin told them to go fuck themselves, they’d give it a shot.

Now from what the Beliebers tell me, there are millions of girls who would kill to get an RT from Justin…. like I should be grateful that I was noticed by a boy who was a ZYGOTE when i was in junior high. If that’s true, then millions of girls need to aspire to greater things in life.

Look Justin, fanks for the RT and all, but you have cursed me with the burden of your crazy hormonal tween fans who would kick the face off a badger to get your attention …  and by extension, now my attention.

I will never buy your music, nor will I go to one of your concerts. The only thing that would ruin a Justin Bieber concert would be if my gun jammed.

have a happy birfday MOTHER FUCKER

my birfday clusterfuck was a success! first, it started off with this:

LeVar has always been my homeboy, love that man to bits. Such a nice man and so supportive.

After receiving a whopping 200+ facebook well-wishes and 100+ twitter well-wishes (you guys are the apple of my eye), it was time to make my milkshake bring all the boys to the yard.

aw yeeeeah. blue steel.

andrew is great because he knew next to nobody at this party other than me and quickly became the life of it. he’s pretty chill when it comes to working a room and making everyone lurve him.

i honestly don’t mind getting older, in fact, i rather enjoy it. Life feels more immediate. I’m taking nothing for granted, and i don’t sweat the small stuff.

Yaw is another one of those characters that everyone quickly and easily loves. And he is, as my friend teresa would say, a “4 B.” What’s a 4 B?


I think I am more nervous than I care to admit, because right before the party, I was having a little hissy-girly-wank-fest-fit. I became all cranky and moody because I received like 20 messages from people saying they were bailing on my party. I really need to grow thicker skin and a stiff upper lip. As soon as the room filled with my lovelies, all those ornery thoughts were shoved out of the way.

rob, dave, and trevor are the NEW charlie’s angels … rob can be farrah fawcett. HA!

shasheena brought me a gorgeous orchid! i was in awe of its beauty. i am notoriously horrid with plant-care, i never know how much light or water to give them, but i am going to put in my grade-A effort to keep this wild orchid reaching for the sky.

oh for the love of…

i adore my wife SO HARD. she’s so kind and so giving and so selfless.

and she’s got a butt that won’t quit.

hashtag WINNING.

sacha was clearly looking in the wrong direction when this photo was taken.

aw bless.

i can’t remember exactly what was being said here that i found so hilarious …. but it was clearly hella-funny. maybe we were talking about how my child-bearing years are now over. FUNNY. oh hai brennan!

chris is such a good photographer because he butters you up right before he snaps your photo, and makes you feel beautiful even if you have chocolate cake in your teeth and eye-makeup-goop in the corner of your eye. right before he snapped my pic, he said “christine you don’t have a bad angle, i never have to retouch your photos.” aw shucks, what a manufactured lie, but i will believe anything you tell me as long as it’s a compliment!

go team!

teresa is one of the few people still in my life from high school, i shaved the rest of ’em out years ago. she makes the cut because she’s kind and brave and sweet and is too nice for her own good. her laugh is infectious and she never has a mean thing to say about the people she loves. oh and because she’s known me for so long, not only has she seen me change, she has LET me change. that’s the greatest thing a friend can do.

palm to palm is holy palmers kiss.

andrew and sofi are now each other’s back-up. in ten years time, expect to see little PapDonalds running around.

woah dave! was this taken at my party, or is it your official headshot for Ocean’s 14?

Scarbage high school girls unite! And we bring the street cred. The only people who spend FIVE YEARS in a Scarborough high school and make it out ALIVE are the tough-as-nails ones.

Andrew and Allegra are the new A-team.

see what I did there?

Shannon‘s a talented lass, she is.

Yaw can’t stop attracting da laydeez.

maybe when the timing is right, ashley and yaw will get married and their children will run the country on a platform of red-lipped smiles and huge biceps for everyone.

*this* close to seeing up allegra’s skirt. dammit.

laugh now, but one day, we’ll be in charge.

this photo is all lips and locks.

yes, it’s true. i gave in to peer pressure and took a sip of champagne.


This is probably my favourite photo of the night.

i refuse to have a party without hot men peppering the crowd.

“so i says to mable, i says…”

two men and a lil’ lady.

 i supplied my own birfday cake and that sounds kinda sad, but i was rather chuffed with the results. choco cake with almond-milk frosting! i do good work.

reg was so funny. she’s lighting the candles, and  because the match burns her skin, she ends up dropping the candle aflame onto the cake. so to prevent the cake from catching fire, she blows out all the candles. WIFEY STOLE MY BIRFDAY CANDLE WISH!

Porno for pyros.

“happy birfday to meee!”

as many of you know, i am full of hot air.

my mouth is huge.

hey fellas! use your imagination!

one year older, one year wiser.

I had a divine birfday weekend, fanks to all my lovely friends for coming out and blessing me with your presence!

You are the people i admire, i appreciate, i adore, i love …. and that i would (separately, at one time or another) like to smack the shit out of.

see you at next year’s birfday piss-up!

(additional photography by Chris Lukhardt, fanks guy!)

Glitterati Trumps Common Sense

Yes, I am a woman who occasionally likes to dress up all fancy and hit up some posh joints, like the new Trump Tower in the financial district.

Mostly, we were there to hand out business cards, sample the free spirits and hors d’oeuvres, and pretend like we were adults. (Shh! Don’t tell anyone, we look just like adults, so we can slip right in unnoticed).

And yes, as you can see here, I had some laughs. But after about an hour, we had to unbutton the fancy threads and head over to a Hoops in a ghetto area of the suburbs where wasted Hispanic lovertines bought us tequila shots. We got food all over our laps, a drunken space-cadet barged into the men’s toilets, and we played some tonsil-hockey.

My kinda party.

The Night List’s favourite gal

that’s awfully kind of you Paul! fanks so much for that The Grid shout-out! we are long overdue for a catch-up and a cuddle.

click here to read how i did at the Love A Heart event!


The Love A Heart event was a massive success! As I blogged about before, I was asked by the wonder-woman event organizer if I’d like to be auctioned off on a date to the highest bidder, with all the money going to the Heart & Stroke Foundation. Naturally I said yes, but as the event approached, I slowly began to pass a kidney stone of sheer terror. It’s petrifying asking a crowd of 500-plus people to put a dollar value on your debatable-hotness! Bussey had blogged a few weeks ago that I would, in all likelihood, sell for $170 which I thought was extremely generous.

So how much did I sell for?


If I had been wearing underwear that night, they would have needed changing. (Undies are for quitters).

And who was my top bidder?

Dis guy.

Although technically he shares me with my wifey, but that goes without saying.

Now please enjoy this photogasm which accurately depicts the depravity and kickassery of the night.

No comment.

me, ashley, and sofi shall henceforth be known as the “boob troop.”

shannon and i have devil eyes!

was nice to see george again. we had a quick catch-up. he sold for $800, which i assumed would have been the top bid of the night. out of nowhere, ryan-gosling-esque Kerry pulls a $1025!! bless his heart, he then matched the bid.

if only all the hosers we knew in highschool back in scarbage could see us now

OMG IS THAT LEN?!! that’s what i was thinking the entire night, dude never comes out! it takes a lot to get him excited about events. he was also my saviour, basically talking me off a ledge for the past two weeks. i was genuinely shitting myself for this event, but he was coo’ing in my BBM ear to just have a laugh and remember it’s for charity (with extra shits n’ giggles). totally worked!

although after i got off stage, my adrenaline suddenly drained, and vicki needed to haul me outside for a quick breather, as i had a wee lil’ panic attack.

did i mention i stayed in a hotel that night? look at me, i’m adult-y.

view of the ROM. years and years ago, i worked as a tour guide on those hop-on-hop-off double decker buses for tourists, and when we’d drive by the ROM (which was still under reconstruction at the time), i used to say this joke to squeeze more tips outta the gullible americans:

and now we’re going by the Royal Ontario Museum, or the ROM as we like to call it. now as you can see, it’s still under reconstruction, but as you all know… ROM wasn’t built in a day.”

wocka wocka wocka.

i also once worked at the Royal Conservatory of Music….. for one day. i quit that job by the stroke of 5pm.

they were filming some movie or tv show at Varsity Stadium. probably one of those crap canadian tv shows like Being Erica or Flashpoint. (ps sorry to all my actor/director/writer friends who are employed on said-shows. i wuv yoos guise).

annnnnd…. scene.

See you at #LoveAHeart tonight!

Love A Heart is tonight!

my wifey and i are both on the auction block. come buy Valentines-y dates with us!

truth be told, i am kinda shitting myself, but at the end of the day, charity events like this shouldn’t be taken too seriously. it’s supposed to jolly! let’s have a laugh and buy some hotties a pint.

see you there, fellas!

(photography by Paul Hillier)

blog it like it’s hot

click on the above image to check me out in today’s Street Style section of BlogTO. BlogTO is one of the biggest (if not THE biggest) Toronto-centric blog out there (along with fellow high-ranking blogs Torontoist, Now Toronto, and The Grid) …. and the trolls who scavenge through the Street Style comments are infamous for their brutality. BRING IT ON, i can take it! (ha, no i can’t. total fragile ego right hurr).

but the best way to respond to internet trolls is to kill them with awesome. case in point:

i love how my wifey and i ended up juxtapositioned next to each other. it’s KISMET!

fanks to Paul Hillier for being such a fun photographer!

dancing cheek to cheek

heaven, i’m in heaven
and my heart beats so that i can hardly speak

and i seem to find the happiness i seek

when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.

heaven, i’m in heaven
and the cares that hung around me through the week

seem to vanish like a gambler’s lucky streak

when we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.

-Irving Berlin

Get your Heart-On at #LoveAHeart

Fellas, now is your chance to date me! ………………..



I’m being auctioned off for charity!…………………

Jeez, tough crowd.

Well anyway, click on the above image to get details on the Love A Heart event, where the hottest bachelors and bachelorettes in Toronto (and, uh, me) will be auctioned off to raise funds for the Heart & Stroke Foundation.

It takes place on February 9th and The Hideout (484 Queen Street West), doors at 8pm, cover is $5.

If you’re not interested in being dis gal’s Valentine, there are lots of other beauties on the auction block (I know almost all the gals, they’re pretty saucey). As for you ladies out there looking to buy a man-whore, I know almost all the guys being auctioned as well, and they are SEXY MO-FO’S! There’s even two professional athletes on the auction block, one from Toronto Rock (that’s our pro lacrosse team) and another from the Toronto Argonauts (pro football team, CFL)!

To top it off, there’ll be a live performance by Indie Music Week champions Tiny Danza.

It’s going to be a really fun night, even if you don’t want to bid, you can at least come say hi and introduce yourself! We’ll clink glasses and talk about graff!

And you’ll get to watch me sell-out for a fiver.


Him: “I don’t believe we’ve met.” Me: “Trust me, we’re not meeting now.”

What the fuck is wrong with some guys? Seriously, all I did was say hello and happy new years and suddenly I have to fend off some stalkerazzi asshole’s inappropriate advances? Do I have a sign on my back that says “harrass me!”

At the New Years Eve party I attended (which was otherwise lovely, fanks to Guy Gal and Adil Dhalla for throwing a monster righteous evening!), I was introduced to a random fellow (his name and personal details have been redacted in order to protect his privacy) who is the roommate of a buddy of mine. I said hello and happy new years, as you do, and he said that we had met before.

I have never met this guy before in my life, of that I’m sure, but for the sake of being polite, I apologized for not remembering. He said that he is a fan of mine and follows me on Twitter.

Again, for the sake of being polite, I said that I would follow him back on Twitter, so I whip out my Blackberry and search for his profile. When it comes up, lo and behold, it turns out he, in fact, does NOT follow me on Twitter.

Oh yeah, I unfollowed you because you tweet a lot,” he slurs.

Wow. Class-act, buddy. First lie about following me, and then insult me in the process.

So whatever, I barely blinked. This conversation was four minutes out of my night, and I didn’t even recall this conversation as an important one mere moments after it ended.

In fact, this guy in question had met MY DATE, saw us exercising our legs on the dancefloor, and relieving our basorexia at midnight. Ipso facto, he KNEW I was with someone, so why he thought sending me this DM on Twitter the following morning would IN ANY WAY peak my interest is beyond me.

It took me a few minutes to realize who this was, I barely even remembered this guy. Where am I? Come by for some champagne? Oh yes, please, allow me to drop everything and ditch my date WHOM I WAS STILL WITH and seek you out, oh high and mighty lord of the charming princes.

Before I could even respond, he sends:

LET’S PLAY????? Ewwwwwwwwwwww.

First of all, who the fuck do you think you are talking to a woman you just met like that?

Second of all, never did I, at any point, give you the impression that I was remotely interested in you, so you are suffering from some serious delusion to believe I’d be up for that.

Again, before I can even respond, he sends another:

Oh yay! Now that I have your address, I can roll over, thank my lucky stars, and run to you with my arms outstretched!!!

I don’t know what “I habe cava” means (it’s clearly not English), nor do I know what ” pros, and champs”  is , so I’m not sure I can share in his excitement for that fact. But I assure you it’s probably not something I would have enjoyed anyway.

By this point, I was disgusted (and showing my date all of these messages, which garnered a few chuckles), so I politely but firmly wrote back:

There. Brutally honest but polite. Nipped it in the bud. I didn’t go out of my way to insult him, but neither did I girlishly laugh off his fuckery. Let him know in less than 140 characters that I wasn’t interested.

For any normal person, they would have gotten the hint and left well enough alone.

Unfortunately, this fucktard ain’t normal.

First he replies:

OH OF COURSE! Naturally, “let’s play” means “a drink and a chat!” OBVIOUSLY! I don’t know HOW I could have read into that and gotten it all wrong! MY BAD.

Seriously, how stupid do you think I am?

I was satisfied, however, that he said “its understood” so I was hoping that would be the end of it.


Without me replying to his message, he sends again:

First of all, don’t call me “love.” I am not your “love.” I am no man’s “love.” MY NAME IS CHRISTINE.

Secondly, it’s not that we “didn’t have enough time to chat,” it’s that I had absolutely no inclination whatsoever to speak to you beyond our initial introduction. You make it sound like the cosmos were conspiring against us, preventing us from being together. Fuck off with that ludicrous delusion that’s not based in any kind of reality.

Furthermore, “another life, we’ll be cool?” OH YES, YOU AND I WILL MEET UP AGAIN IN ANOTHER LIFE because we are ill-fated lovers in this world and destiny has played a card against us.


Finally, “i’m not religious. swear.” Maybe not, but you’re definitely a coked-out whackjob. I don’t know what your religious affiliations has to do with anything, I’m assuming that’s in reference to your ‘another life” crap, but now your messages sound like the ramblings of an insane hobo.

Again, I didn’t respond, so he harasses me with ANOTHER STUPID DM:

At this point, buddy, that is neither here nor there.

Enough is enough. I told him no, and he keeps bothering me, so I unfollowed him from Twitter so he couldn’t DM me any further.

Did that stop him?

You already know the answer to that question. He then decides to publicly tweet me:

OH YES, THAT’S WHAT I’M GOING TO DO. I’m going to put myself in a situation where you can “make it up to me.”  In your brain, that probably involves snorting lines of coke off my toenails or watching pitbulls rape each other, or some other fucked up shit. Yes, please, I want to be in your presence again! WHAT PART OF I’M NOT INTERESTED DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND??????

I’d rather jump off the CN Tower and catch my eyelid on a nail than let you make anything up to me. In fact, we are nothing to each other, so you have nothing to make up to me. You made a pass at me, I rejected you, end of story. Take it like a man, have some self-respect, and move on.

Stop bothering me!

You make my skin crawl.

This isn’t the first time I’ve blogged about men using DM to send me inappropriate messages (read here and here for previous examples). $20 says this won’t be the last.

Some of you may think I’m over-reacting and being a bitch. It’s true, I do get called a Bitch quite often. What I do NOT get called is pushover, stupid, sweetheart, dear or doormat.

Works for me.

(next posts will go back to our regularly-scheduled NYC graffiti & street art finds, swearsies!)

I like being weird. Weird’s all I got. That and my sweet style.

never met this guy before in my life, but this tweet was most welcome! read more about my running ethos here.

and for the record, it was a Raider’s hoodie that an old boyfriend from high school left at my place that I claimed as asshole tax. I love that hoodie. and I can’t even remember that boyfriend’s name. It had to have been one of the jocks, surely.

Outside Brock’s Mansion

not only does Cock McBrocklyn live in a mansion, he also is our Lord and Saviour.
but what’s with the American spelling there, Brock?
ps wuv you, let’s make out, not for realsies.

this one time, on the internet …

late last night i tweeted this, and i broke the internet.

then this happened:

and then this followed:

until i somehow became the top tweet in the category:

unlike old twitter where you could see exactly how many people RT’d you, new twitter doesn’t allow you to see beyond 100 RTs, so i have no clue how many times this was RT’d. by the massive cornucopia of mentions that were vomited all over me in the period of a few hours, i’m going to estimate it was somewhere hovering around the 500-600 mark, but really, who knows.

my follower count jumped well over 3,000 too.

tweets of mine have gone viral before (see here and here for previous examples) but those occurred by and large because a celebrity RT’d me to get the ball rolling. in this case, i couldn’t find a celeb or an influential tweeter who RT’d me. so i guess i struck a nerve.

in any case, hello new readers and followers! you have excellent taste.

now shut up and show me your tweets.

put the pedal to the metal

i went galavanting down graffiti alley last night, just to see if there was any new stuff. OMG BLOG CONTENT FOR THE NEXT MONTH=DONE.

for love or money?

or both?

guess who’s going back to New York?


i’m so fist-pumpin’-excited. this is going be like something out of an Edith Wharton book (minus the fist-pumps, ‘natch).

my gal amber invited me down to house-sit in her swank Astoria pad while she’s in ontario with her family over the christmas holi-daze. i stayed with amber back in the spring during my two-week-long NYClusterfuck (i blogged about that adventure, read part 1, part 2, and part 3! sasha grey! jon stewart! brooklyn graffiti & street art! 5pointz! theatre! williamsburg hipster douchebags!….good god, it was glorious).

my family doesn’t celebrate christmas (atheism FTW) so i’m perfectly fine spending christmas in new york by myself. but really, i’ll be too busy devouring all the amazeballs graffiti in bushwick, cobble hill, DUMBO, and williamsburg to even notice i’m alone. besides, it’s NEW YORK. you’re never alone.

oh and i scored a ticket to The Nutcracker at the New York City ballet on Christmas Eve. #TheatreFagEpicWin

if you live in NYC, let a sistah know. TWEET-UP!

“blogging isn’t journalism, it’s graffiti with punctuation”

The Toronto Star recently profiled Deadboy, who, as most of you know, has been a friend of The Spadina Monologues for months now, and I’ve always profiled his work. In the article, The Spadina Monologues got a brief but important mention in reference to Deadboy’s work and my profiling of graffiti. Check out the article, because I’m pretty sure this means I am now a Toronto graffiti authority. Called it.

My panel discussion, Brands, Agencies, and Influencers Unite, at the Social Media Week conference went really well! There was easily 100 people in attendance, and they were all live-tweeting almost every point we made.

that’s darren on the left, our moderator. him and i had plenty to chat about, as we’re both playwrights and theatre nuts. bruno is sitting next to me, we took the Via train together and shared so many experiences that by the time we got to this panel, we were ribbing each other with our elbows like old chums. he’s mah boy! next to bruno is stéphane from the NFB, and not pictured is Yves from Via Rail, who took us all out to dinner afterward. Loved them all!

first they introduced the videos that bruno and i made about our train experience, and then we began to talk about brand-agency-blogger relationships.

i was able to make several important points that i’ve been wanting to express for a while, since my life as an “influential blogger” or whatever began.

#1: most of the daily pitches i receive from brands or agencies are clearly cut n’ paste with my name jammed in at the top

#2 most of the pitches basically say, “please do my job for me. FOR FREE.”

#3 these agencies or brands will mass-email-blast their pitches to a cornucopia of bloggers, rather than actually doing research into the bloggers they’re pitching, nor understanding whether or not the pitch will be suitable for these bloggers.

#4 I blog about graffiti/street art/culture-jamming….and travel/adrenaline junkie activities ….. and theatre/film. so why am i getting pitches about Mattel’s new barbie and ken dolls? or Dunkin Donuts’ national donut day campaign? or vodka tastings? Those are beyond the voice of my blog, they don’t fit with my ethos, and my readers wouldn’t give a toss about those campaigns.

#5 brands and agencies should be more concerned about pitching to influencers whom they actually want to build long term mutually-beneficial relationships with, rather than EVERYBODY for a short period of time.

according to the panel’s program, i now am the NFB’s co-director with Stéphane.


s’okay, my nametag was correct.

Via Rail put me up in the posh and luxurious Opus Hotel in the heart of trendy Yaletown in Vancouver. my room was so lush. when a  single gal with an orgasmic rush of energy is given a sexy, mojo-enhancing room like this, there’s only one thing she can do.

opus hotel

what did you think i meant? get your minds outta the gutter!

or back in the gutter?

in the morning, with the sunshine pouring in through my massive window, i knew i was going to have a classically cool Vancouver day.

Opus’ communications manager left me a lil’ gift and an awfully kind note at the front desk too. he had heard me speak at the panel the night before. fanks Jer!

i decided to only wear black and white all day.

i let my personality fill in the colour.

summer 2011 is officially over. this was an exceptionally difficult summer.

i quit my job. i went through a heartbreak. and then received a bad health diagnosis.

i will not miss this summer at all.

Yet despite all of that, happiness still abounds in my life.
Life always finds a way.