Long Form Journally Woes

I am a fan of long form journalism. It requires discipline from the reader and writer to make it compelling enough to last me through numerous pages. I respect it and wish I could write it without making it sound like a mediocre fourth year poli sci paper. I really enjoy being able to dig in on a subject and get more than just the basic reporting structure. A really good long form piece can paint a picture in your head similar to watching a documentary while reading. This is exciting and makes me excited for certain pieces that I willy nilly decide to read in full.

ALL that being said, when you don’t realize you are about to read a long form piece and you’re just two-finger scrolling down the article and then you see that there are more than eight pages left, well I just get irritated. This is how petty and lazy I am, I cannot be bothered, especially if the first bit wasn’t even that interesting. Internet, alert me that I am going to be spending an hour or so reading something that I’m reading because it may get exciting or important. I feel like I’m back in school and although I want to be back in school most days just cause I felt smarter back then, sometimes you just read the abstract to get the gist. 

I’m getting dumber everyday and because of that, just give the gist.

I Spi-dey Love

I have a major hard-on for Andrew Garfield.

With every film, TV spot, and interview he does – I fall harder for him. You know what is crazy about this too? I love that he is dating Emma Stone. If, IF, they ever break up, I will go into mourning. I will then steal him away with my sassy charm and fall-over good looks.

The Amazing Spiderman was one of my favourite movies of the summer. Spidey is, I think, my favourite superhero. I mean I love me some Superman, Iron Man, The Green Lantern, and of course Batman, don’t get me wrong. I can get down with any man, woman, or child with amazing powers who fights for the good and safety of all humankind. Andrew is just such a winner and was a fantastic Peter Parker. He brought what I always knew could come to the role of Peter, besides being a sexy arachnid.

The other day Andrew appeared on Ellen. He danced and raised money for the Worldwide Orphans Foundation. God he’s a gem isn’t he?

Friday Nights

My Fridays have turned into this strange, incongruent beast.

Since I started school again, it’s felt like every Friday has presented me with something completely different and weird.

1st Friday – I did absolutely nothing. I was expecting a big bash for end of first week back to school and that didn’t happen. Result: I wallowed. I was also stupidly tired and went to bed at 8:00. (False information)

2nd Friday – I went to Montreal. It took me 8 hours to get from Toronto to the city and not only did I almost kill myself, Jessica almost killed me too. That night was ridiculous. Friday was almost over by the time we got to the city. We then proceeded to go full force because Montreal is the greatest city. We went to bed at 5:30. I saw the sunrise. Result: I bragged to everyone how I can still kick it old school and stay out all night.

3rd Friday – My besties came from Montreal and Ottawa and Uxbridge to visit with us Toronto children. Beautiful reunions ensued. Then Naomi and I went to another party with my school friends and sang and danced exclusively to music from 1995-2005. My favourite kind. Naomi fangirled over my cool new friends and then we cabbed a million years back to the ‘coke with Nat. All three shouting obscenities about our night. The skies poured that night. Result: I’ve never been wetter or happier.

4th – I met up with TIM and we bitched about everything except his crazy amazing apartment. Then I literally ran to the bus station to travel secretly to Guelph. I was that total idiot running through Dundas station looking like I have somewhere important to be, but really it’s because I dillydally-ed then went the wrong direction on the subway. Never again. I made it with three minutes to spare. Nobody does it better. Then swapped stories over Scotch with my great Aunt Nina, who is the coolest person I know. Result: A little embarrassed, a little sweaty (constant state of being), a little buzzed and chuffed to bits.

5th Friday – Had a great dinner at “Stacked” at Yonge and Laurence with Puke and his family. Awesome. They grilled me for not having watched The Wire. (I KNOW OKAY?) I then traveled back to Guelph for Thanksgiving weekend. Got to have a bath. Result: Feeling fat but relaxed. Good feeling. Also realizing that I really can’t live anywhere without a tub. Essential for G.Ash.

6th Friday – That Friday I went and saw The Beaver Den: A New Canadian Musical with a friend from uni. This show was written, directed, choreographed and amaze-ified by my amazing Jen and Jaclyn Enchin. It was unbelievable. You laugh for 90% and then you cry for the rest. Hilarious and poignant and so Canadian. I was so proud. Result: I glowed for the rest of the night for my two amazing friends who are disgustingly talented.

7th Friday – Gitch came down to hang out at Xina’s. We had pho and then proceeded to sit in Xina’s living room and talk about crazy things. I also got to try this exclusive kind of Beau’s because I charmed a distributor into giving me one. I was crafty. Result: Feeling sly and sing song-y but tired. We were up til the dawn but you’d have no idea as Xina’s living space is actually a cave with no windows.

8th Friday (last night) – Biked around New Toronto, got mah brows threaded for the first time. It’s awesome. I really love just lying with my eyes closed and having someone pick things off my face. I’ll fully say that I’m a fan of that. Proceeded to watch Community and Louie all night sipping on some Johnny Walker, while intermittently watching Jeopardy, talking to Naomi and then Emily and pals in the Twa, AND finishing my ridiculously awesome Halloween costumes for HALLOWEEKEND. Result: Shock at how great my life truly is.

I really cannot believe that there have been eight Fridays since I’ve moved to Toronto.

To be Honest (Ed’s) that makes my brain swell.


The Long of the Branch

Where I live is absolutely hilarious. Lord knows why they call it Long Branch because it’s a pretty small area of Etobicoke and even tinier area of Toronto.

It is a beautiful neighborhood right around my house. By the lake. The trees are amazing right now and there are parks everywhere that I don’t frequent. There are beaches, that you can just sit on I guess. There are swans. I tell everyone this just to add a little whimsy to my dreary Long Branch existence.

Up the street however is most ridiculous street known to human kind: Lakeshore Boulevard West. Leather shop. Health food and flower shop. Nail bar after nail bar. Salon after barber after salon. Weird bakeries where they only have perfect loaves of white bread.

There’s an old sewing machine store. There’s a store that only sells health soaps. There is also the Mai Mai Chinese Palace. My new spot. My only spot tbh. The food is stupid cheap and doesn’t make me feel like dying a mean death on the side of the the 427 so Josc and I frequent it fairly consistently. BUT a new bubble tea just opened up. There have been two ambulances there in the past four days. Now that’s my kind of place. Can’t wait to try it out and review it for you here on The Lonely Long Branch Blogger Trying To Find Hilarity in the Mundanity of Etobicoke Toronto. 

Until we meet again.

My Bed

My bed is part of me. In my new hobbit hole of an apartment, it is really the only place I can sit.

There is only one chair in my entire apartment. Think about that? Isn’t that weird. Trust me it’s weird. I also have one foot stool that I sit on periodically when I stare at myself in the mirror and attempt to do something with my extremely damaged hair while practicing my Australian accent. So desks suck and I rarely both with it but the floor and I have recently become friends. My tailbone is hatin’ on me.

But my bed is beautiful hideous place.

I will make it from time to time but it won’t stay nice. Why won’t it just stay nice? My stuff just commandeers a takeover. Laptop, glasses, headphones, purse, wigs, sweaters, cutlery, bags, paperpaperpaper and of course my phone and my POP retro phone. Thunder and Moose are also in there but that’s in the same vein as pillows and blankets.

My desk is littered with my stuff. My chair has clothes all over it. Every surface, including the floor has stuff on it. How do people seriously avoid this? Good storage facilities? A place for everything? Less stuff? Definitely not that.

My cloud bed, and that’s really what it is, allows you to get lost in the fluffiness of it all and takes you away on a beautiful cream sailboat to reverieland. The bed is an extension of my soul. I permeate the whole thing even though I only sleep and sit on one side, (my stuff takes over the other side). But seriously if you don’t have a report with your bed, you gunna be a sad bitty.

So to you all, find yourself a good bed, cover it with your stuff and develop and fuel your relationship with love and sweet dreams.


Now these are some nice looking bedroom setups. http://www.oddee.com/item_96623.aspx



Yes the title of an M.I.A song that rocks the boat.

Also,QT.Cutie. Cute. I hate the word cute.

It is dumb. Grossly overused. Patronizing. Sickly sweet. What doesit even mean? (off I go to consult urban dictionary just because I think I’ll like the entries, back in a flash)

1. someone attractive or beautiful, sometimes shy
2. used between females to describe something they like
3. used to describe little kids doing funny things
4. something that you just want to squeeze or keep
5. a girl who is lovely and dreamy and cuddly and shy and beautiful and awwww [sic] *druels*

Erlack to the max. When women use the term to describe anything other than a baby or an animal and even that sparingly I want to die inside. I get this awful taste in my mouth that I can’t shake for a solid three minutes. Combine that with pukey-ness in the estomach and then a clenching in the ‘down-theres’ makes for a wholly awful couple of minutes.

This is a call our to the women of the Rideau Centre in particular: stop, I say Stop using the word cute. For my mental and physical health,AREETEZ-VOUS!

Smiling Back Snacks

Without a doubt, Pepperidge Farms Goldfish are the most addictive food on the planet.

They are more or less too good to be true.Crunchy.Salty.Cheesy. Bite-size.In the shapes of little animals for which no one gives two shits.What more could anyone ask for?

The answer,of course, is nothing. Nothing could be better than Goldfish.

I have been avoiding buying them because I will for sure eat the whole bag within hours. Today I ended up buying a bag from Shoppers because,you know I just couldn’t not.

Jude is with me on this fact as I texted her today to confirm my thesis. If I wanted to pursue this scientific research I can almost guarantee that my hypothesis would be friggen correct. [ A group of tye-dyed girls just walked by the store. Hilar. I have one beautifdul tye-dye shirt. I don’t even know if that’s how you spell it. I’m a terrible fake/weekend hippy. ]

I will be eating the rest of the fishies ce soir at the movies. Spiderman bitches. Andrew Garfield is the man. And Emma Stone is the woman. That is why they found one another. They are the man and woman of the earth.

I am pumped to the amplitude of monuments.


The trailer just popped up at the beginning of a movie I decided to watch. Carey Mulligan was ravishing in that movie. I am definitely going to re-watch the whole film. But even watching the trailer, I feel like I might be able to identify more with Jenny now then when I first saw it a couple years ago. She just wants to have fun. Don’t we all? She doesn’t want to do something hard and boring for the rest of her life. But she’s only eighteen. 

Eighteen?! Christ. Her character is supposed to be wise beyond her years. Well she better be because at eighteen I was a useless dweeb. I could read, write and do my arithmetic and I could dance, play three instruments, run around a track (begrudgingly) and bake brownies. I could totally bake brownies. I was famous amongst my friends for my double decker brownie berry cake. I brought it to every party. It never got old. It’s still good but I haven’t made it in over two years. I should bring it back.

Anyway, Jenny at 18 I think is where I potentially am now. Dunno. I’ll have to watch it again. 

To David With Thanks

Today I let my loose leaf David’s Tea tea brew/steep for the perfect amount of time. This is seriously one of the most satisfying things in the world. Someone recently told me that the ‘best feeling ever’ is when you open a whole package of bacon and just drop it into a frying pan on medium-high heat. I think at the time I rolled my eyes and smiled but sipping a mug of wonderfully steeped black tea with the perfect amount of milk to water to honey/sweetener of your choice ratio all at the precise temperature that allows for large but not too large gulps is just a f*cking delight. This experience can alter the state of your day, or at least set the mood of your day higher up on the scale of happiness and alright-ness. 

Speaking of gulps, you know when you have to take these huge gulps because you want your tea to still be warm when you’re drinking it but the temperature is dropping like it’s November in Winnipeg? I am certain that there must be an algorithm for each person’s particular temperature drinking taste that will allow for the specific amount of tea to be drunk at the right pace. Everything is an equation. 

I recently got this tea from David’s Tea that is truly spectacular. It is called Brazillionaire. It is out of control. It’s a strong black tea with raisins, a little bit of coconut and the king of nuts – Brazil nuts, hence the clever title. It is just the right combination of flavours at really makes for a delicious beverage in the morning. I mean, you could drink it whenever but the morning is definitely more suitable. I don’t know why but it is, en fait, the reality. 

Next time you’re in David’s Tea, you would be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t buy some Brazillionaire. Plus you’ll end up singing “Billionaire” by Travie and Bruno every time you drink it. Christ this tea just brings you everything good in the world. 

The Boy Is Back

I feel as if he should be called my boy because really, our connection is powerful enough to move mountains. The people that he creates in his head are just out of this world. No one as old as he makes them could ever be as moral and positive. Their flaws aren’t really flaws. These flaws make you want to be better, because your flaws are real in comparison and make you less intelligent, personable, attractive. The work he has done on The Newsroom is by no means his finest, that is reserved for seasons two and three of The West Wing, but there were moments in the SEVENTY-TWO minutes that made me feel things. It takes some serious rhetoric to make me feel but my boy can make me feel more than anyone else out there. Aaron Sorkin, you may have just done it again.

Parts of The Newsroom were great, specifically during and after the taping of the news with Jeff Daniels’ anchor Will McAvoy. They’re covering the April 2010 environmental catastrophe in the Gulf of Mexico after the BP rig leaked millions of gallons of oil. It was thrilling. Sorkin’s choice of composer and musical producer were perfect. I am becoming slowly more obsessed with scores and what they do for pieces of entertainment. The way they edited the second half of the show was great as well.

Aaron has a problem with his preachiness. I like how Will McAvoy actually isn’t the most likeable guy in the room. His protagonists normally are. He’s crustier, sadly because of heartbreak via Emily Mortimer, and not as moral and noble as the Bartletts and Albies of the Sorkin televerse. The anti-American diatribe that McAvoy opens with is all true and in the end, is exactly what he says it is, a rousing call to arms to the American people to remake America the greatest country in the world.

This pilot had far too many lectures. I have a weird liking of being lectured to, but this was ridiculous there were so many I actually got bored and stopped listening, especially when Mortimer was going at Daniels. I don’t know if she’s right for this role. Also, I don’t even want to talk about how moronic Aaron’s portrayed the women in this pilot. I am hoping with all hope that this changes because, frankly this combined with the lack of diversity was embarrassing. (That was actually one of the things that was noticeable after Aaron left TWW, the women were written with so much more gusto. They were significantly more capable and not just pushed around and left whining by the MEN that make America such a great country.)

I’m seriously looking forward to watching how the season progresses because the moments where he got it right, gosh was it something else. I don’t think it’s possible for Aaron to lose even a morsel of his ego but miracles exist, I would want this one. The things that could be watched on television would be staggering.

Mr. Sorkin, I beg you, shed some of self-worth and bring us all down closer to a reality where you write the intellectually stimulating liberals who have the power to change minds of the audience. Everyone will be better off.