Monday, October 29, 2007
This has definitely been a trying morning. I set my alarm, like I always do, in hopes of waking up early and finishing maybe one of the million assignments I have to do, only to press 'disable' and fall back asleep. This morning couldn't have been a worse morning for me to do that. I woke myself up at 6:45 a.m. with 3 interviews on my recorder and not a word of my story typed up. Considering it takes me almost an hour to get to school on mornings like this, and my deadline is at 9 a.m. I was, needless to say, VERY pressed for time. If you see me today, you'll know by the state of my appearance, especially the hair, that it's been a rough morning. YIKES.
Anyway, normally I wouldn't be THIS stressed, as I like to tell myself that everything will work itself out, but this morning was the submission of my Raine Maida story, and I REALLY want it to get in the paper. No. It WILL get in the paper. (I really need to re-read the secret.)
I really need to get my shit together. Yeah, I know, I say that a lot, but really, this is getting ridiculous. I am forcing myself to get everything (or mostly everything) finished tonight, even if that means no sleep.
Maybe the big move will be a good thing organization wise. We all know I need as much help as I can get in that department.
BLEH.
Liferuiner show with Trishelle on Wednesday, and yes, we will be dressed up. I'm fully anticipating us being the only two people in costume, but I haven't decided yet whether that will be hilarious or extremely embarassing.
So far, since Saturday this week has been deemed my week of hell. When they said bad things come in threes, did they mean multiples of three? Who the hell are 'they' anyway? Let's just hope things improve. No. Things WILL improve.
I'm freezing my nonexistent ass off in this classroom.
Over & out.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
So I'm heading downtown later today to interview Raine Maida about his involvement in the War Child Canada campaign to raise money for a school in the Congo. Needless to say I'm pretty excited. Also, I don't know how I forgot to mention that I'm moving downtown on November 15th. I'll be moving to the Queen & Bathurst area, so all you Torontonians holla at me. Potential house warming party? There's a lot to be excited about as of late:
-moving
-still sweet prom glam Jess photoshoots with Trishelle
-hunting for a new job downtown (this could be good or bad)
-looking for an internship (Vice? Now?)
-Montreal on the 15th which means Aleasha hangouts (SO excited. I miss her terribly)
-getting back into the creative side of my writing
If any of you hear of anyone looking for freelance writers and/or interns, let me know! I'm always looking for stuff to do.
-moving
-still sweet prom glam Jess photoshoots with Trishelle
-hunting for a new job downtown (this could be good or bad)
-looking for an internship (Vice? Now?)
-Montreal on the 15th which means Aleasha hangouts (SO excited. I miss her terribly)
-getting back into the creative side of my writing
If any of you hear of anyone looking for freelance writers and/or interns, let me know! I'm always looking for stuff to do.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
With love, with regret I am a beggar.
It could have been the lack of sleep, or the Godspeed You! Black Emporer playing through my speakers, but during the drive to school at 7 a.m., I got a surge of inspiration and immediately felt compelled to write. Notebook on steering wheel, never a good idea, but if you know me you know I have a terrible memory, so I had to get it down then and there. This is the result:
Deranged closet romantic for hire
And most nights I feel I'm only talking for the sake of shutting you out
Shutting me down
And still this epic choir sings praises above our heads
Pressing on
Barely taking breaths
And still I weep
Still she sings
Box springs uncovered
Exposing truths of the past
Freeing tame ghosts with invisible lacerations across their backs
And I watched the sky change from night to day
And I prayed that this silhouette
This facade of what once was would find its way
But the brightness of day hides nothing, reveals all
And you'll bear your teeth
I'll chew my lip
Still holding hands with the tightest of grip
Oh what a collaboration
What pairing of souls!
Despite your lost efforts
There is still truth to be sold
A penny for your courtesy
A dime for what mattered
Teeth chatter replaces this exhausted love song
A simple admiration for the way her eyes cross when she lies
Inconspicuously averting from yours when you ask why?
And now I brace myself for this rhythmic pattern I swore I would deter
Always for her
Always I was sure
Deranged closet romantic for hire
And most nights I feel I'm only talking for the sake of shutting you out
Shutting me down
And still this epic choir sings praises above our heads
Pressing on
Barely taking breaths
And still I weep
Still she sings
Box springs uncovered
Exposing truths of the past
Freeing tame ghosts with invisible lacerations across their backs
And I watched the sky change from night to day
And I prayed that this silhouette
This facade of what once was would find its way
But the brightness of day hides nothing, reveals all
And you'll bear your teeth
I'll chew my lip
Still holding hands with the tightest of grip
Oh what a collaboration
What pairing of souls!
Despite your lost efforts
There is still truth to be sold
A penny for your courtesy
A dime for what mattered
Teeth chatter replaces this exhausted love song
A simple admiration for the way her eyes cross when she lies
Inconspicuously averting from yours when you ask why?
And now I brace myself for this rhythmic pattern I swore I would deter
Always for her
Always I was sure
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Desolate adj. 1. barren or laid waste; devastated
Already tried. A bracelet made of gold and scarlet
Thread around her wrist. And everything was wrong so we
Sang sentimental songs. Oh how seldom we belong but
How elegant our kiss. And we painted crooked lines but we
Danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we
Know not what it is until like a dullen wine we pour
Into a grief we know before but it's never quite like this, never quite like this.
All I know now is regret, it follows like a silhouette
Along the cobblestone behind me, but has nothing to
Say except to innocently ask, a voice as delicate as
Glass, "Do you see me when we pass?" but I continue on
My way.

Sunday, October 14, 2007
Angelology n. the branch of theology dealing with angels
Friday, October 12, 2007
Antaeus n. Gr. Myth. a giant wrestler who is invincible as long as he is touching his mother, the earth
-today I booked in for so far 7 sessions with Dan Innes to work on my back. We're not starting until January as he is super busy, but I'm ridiculously excited nonetheless. Dan does amazing work, I can't wait to see the drawing. You can see some of his work here:
-sweet Jess photoshoots with Trishelle are going to be happening sooner than expected which is awesome. The whole concept is still in the works, but it's no doubt going to be nothing short of amazing. This will be my first time shooting with Jess, and I believe it's Trishelle's second. Check out some of Jess' stuff at
-HALLOWEEN. I have no plans and no costume as of yet, but seriously, what's going on this year? Halloween is hands down my favourite holiday, so I'm looking to make this year a memorable one. (Not that last year's halloween wasn't haha) That being said, let me know what you're doing and maybe we can get awesome together.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Tofurky: Don't knock it till you try it
I don't know what's wrong with my eating habits lately, but I can't stop. No, I will not complete the hattrick of Bolton pregnancies, but seriously, what's going on? I've always been able to eat a lot. Hell, I've even managed to out-eat some of my guy friends, right Crake? So maybe I'm just growing. That would be nice. I could definitely afford to grow a few inches. This was a stupid post, but I thought I'd write something before I head out to vote.
Monday, October 8, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
How's that for cynisism?
I found that in my desk a few days ago. It was written on February 13th, 2007. I think it's safe to say I was having a bad day.
On a lighter note, this weekend was pretty awesome. Everyone was back for Thanksgiving, so a lot of us ended up at Mainst for a night of drinks and bad decisions. It was a pretty eventful one, as my bar tab never fails me. Saturday followed with movies and lounging at Lisa's and sleepover with Krista's because I am a pussy and can't sleep by myself in my house. My fears are legit though, I swear my house is haunted. Actually, I think pretty much everywhere I go is haunted. I can't even drive at night alone without being on the phone. This was never the case until about 2 months ago at Krista's cottage when everyone was telling ghost stories. Thanks guys. Maybe I'm just legitimately afraid of being alone.
Anyway, Sunday consisted of getting tattooed, J-me hangouts, cottage/family dinner (a LOT of mashed potatoes and caesar salad, as I was a little late on the whole tofurkey idea) and then probably one of the best sleeps I've ever had.
Today I stopped by ghetto rez to hang out with some of the guys. Bajc, Ry, Peter and I went out for dinner at Rooster's where Ryley attempted to devour a wing in one bite and then shovelled about 1/4 pound of cheese into his mouth. I literally almost spewed across the table. Good thing it was an almost huh, Bajc?
You probably aren't even reading this right now because this is a long, boring, unnecessary post about my weekend. I will try to keep it a bit shorter next time, but come on, I haven't blogged in like 3 days, I've been going through withdrawl. Haha, no, but really. Be safe.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Letter to the Minister of Transportation
To the Honourable Donna Cansfield:
My name is Alanna Brousseau and I am a 19-year-old student attending Humber College for Journalism. I am not addressing you regarding anything school related, but rather on the issue of truck drivers.
Recently, a young girl from my high school, as well as her sister died in a horrific car accident involving a truck driver. Vanessa DiCeglie and her sister Isabel were only 19 and 23, respectively. The driver was unharmed, but Vanessa died at the scene and Isabel a couple days later in the hospital. Such young lives should not have to be surrendered at the hands of irresponsibility and neglect. Something must be done.
I have also encountered situations with aggressive and careless truck drivers. Whether it was the time I sat in the driver’s seat of my car, terrified, listening to the loud honks and profanities of the driver behind me. I also recall a time I was driving on Old Church road and was about to turn right onto Highway 50. Just as the light turned green for me to turn, a giant 18-wheeler flew right by me through the stale red light. Good thing I looked both ways.
This is an issue that has been bothering me for some time, but until now I have remained silent. Today as I was driving to school, an 18-wheeler passed me, and I couldn’t help but notice the magazine that was propped up on his steering wheel as he was flipping through the pages. This is unacceptable.
My father works in the construction industry and is on the road anywhere from eight to twelve hours a day or night. If something were to ever happen to him at the hands of a careless truck driver, I’m afraid of what I would do. I am worried for the safety of my family, my friends, myself, and simply anyone that has to drive on our roads.
I hope this letter has opened your eyes a little bit to the seriousness of this issue. Though I’m sure for you it may be a small chore on an endless list of things to do, it is extremely important to myself as well as many other concerned drivers in Ontario.
Thank you,
Sincerely,
Alanna Brousseau
My name is Alanna Brousseau and I am a 19-year-old student attending Humber College for Journalism. I am not addressing you regarding anything school related, but rather on the issue of truck drivers.
Recently, a young girl from my high school, as well as her sister died in a horrific car accident involving a truck driver. Vanessa DiCeglie and her sister Isabel were only 19 and 23, respectively. The driver was unharmed, but Vanessa died at the scene and Isabel a couple days later in the hospital. Such young lives should not have to be surrendered at the hands of irresponsibility and neglect. Something must be done.
I have also encountered situations with aggressive and careless truck drivers. Whether it was the time I sat in the driver’s seat of my car, terrified, listening to the loud honks and profanities of the driver behind me. I also recall a time I was driving on Old Church road and was about to turn right onto Highway 50. Just as the light turned green for me to turn, a giant 18-wheeler flew right by me through the stale red light. Good thing I looked both ways.
This is an issue that has been bothering me for some time, but until now I have remained silent. Today as I was driving to school, an 18-wheeler passed me, and I couldn’t help but notice the magazine that was propped up on his steering wheel as he was flipping through the pages. This is unacceptable.
My father works in the construction industry and is on the road anywhere from eight to twelve hours a day or night. If something were to ever happen to him at the hands of a careless truck driver, I’m afraid of what I would do. I am worried for the safety of my family, my friends, myself, and simply anyone that has to drive on our roads.
I hope this letter has opened your eyes a little bit to the seriousness of this issue. Though I’m sure for you it may be a small chore on an endless list of things to do, it is extremely important to myself as well as many other concerned drivers in Ontario.
Thank you,
Sincerely,
Alanna Brousseau
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Alarms in the form of editors
So today I woke to the always pleasant buzzing sound of my phone telling me I had a new voicemail. I didn't recognize the number so I decided to check it then instead of later. Good thing. My editor left me a nice message saying I had an hour to find another source or my story wouldn't run in the paper. How's that for a wakeup call?
Needless to say, a lovely lady at the Drake helped me out and now there's no more drama.
I guess I should probably get used to this kind of stuff.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
This may sound morbid, and perhaps mildly grotesque, but play this at my funeral.
No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident
On the back of a motor bike
With your arms outstretched trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed we couldn't break from the concrete
In the city where we still reside.
And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men
Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)

