“Response rate: 100%” by Julia at her desk

Thursday April 26, 2018
6:54am
5 minutes
poparide.com

If you call me and I can’t pick up but I CALL YOU RIGHT BACK
as in I do not let you finish your voicemail
as in your phone should still be open on my number
can I just ask one little question?
WHERE THE EFF ARE YOU?
Seconds have past
Has the urgency left?
Are you passed out, dead, on the phone with someone else?
Is your ringer on?
Would you like to join the conversation?
Here’s my two cents
People who call you and then have their phone on silent
shouldn’t be allowed to own a phone
They have classes for driving a car
And if you don’t pass, you don’t drive
You should have to take a test for the use of your dinky cell phone
“Oh I don’t know how that happened, that’s weird, it was in my pocket”
I don’t want to have to wait to talk to you
if I call you I am CALLING YOU
but if you don’t pick up I will be on the phone with someone else
because you forfeit the right to speak with me and I have shit to discuss
I hope you’re not dead

“You close?” by Julia on her couch


Monday August 22, 2016
10:09pm
5 minutes
from a text

I wish he had asked that without his mouth full of Subway. I almost instinctively said “Well not anymore I won’t be” but restrained myself. I swear sometimes Lance only does gross shit to provoke me. To test me into seeing how much I can take. How grimy he could be and get away with it.
“I have to lock up first.”
“Nobody’s going to want to break into your dad’s shed. Trust me.”
“I told them I would watch their place while they were away.”
“Yeah but what do they expect for you to lock each room before you leave the house too?”
“get away from me with your tzatziki breath. I’ll be two seconds you can wait in the car.”
We were going on an adventure. Lance made me do it, told me it would be fun and we would remember it always.

“Freckles on thighs” by Julia at Starbucks


Wednesday June 8, 2016 at Starbucks
8:01am
5 minutes
Teachable Moment, 1986
Kellee Ngan


You spend two bucks to get a coffee and, you think, the right to sit beside me while I read the morning paper. You think you spend two bucks to get to invade my privacy with the stench of last night that you feel entitled to keep close. You spend two bucks to get a coffee and a seat at the window in between me and the man who has been here since before you were born, saddling up closer to me because, to you, “that guy’s a fucking weirdo torpedo.” You spend two bucks to “accidentally” spill your two buck coffee onto my knee closest to you, reaching into my privacy once again–this time to apologize, “instinctively” trying to “undo” the mess now pooling between my legs. You spend two bucks to make me wish I were dead when you tell me that you like the secret freckles on my inner thigh.

“poignant revelations about life” By Julia on her couch


Sunday March 6, 2016
9:25pm
5 minutes
mic.com

Sirrah comes over to my house and tells me she is craving ice cream and fried chicken.
She says she’s been craving it since last week. I know immediately that She is pregnant. She never eats fried chicken. I don’t even really believe that she’s craving it now, but I don’t doubt that she is hoping I clue in and ask why she’d ever want to do such an out of character thing.
Sirrah drops another hint about laying off white wine spritzers for a while, even though I haven’t actually offered her anything. She talks a lot about how this life is so short and how we have to find our purpose through offerings and sacrifice. I want to punch Sirrah right in her first trimester. Trying to pass down life lessons to me without asking for permission. I don’t like that she assumes I want the same things as she does. I am perfectly happy without some other human to depend on me- complicating everything. I know that sounds bitter but it isn’t. If I wanted a baby, trust me, there could have been plenty of opportunities.

“Thunderbird” by Julia on Jenny and Andrea’s lawn


Monday September 29, 2014
3:41pm
5 minutes
Jess’ imagineNATIVE tote

Roaring at me, this fucking thing. I’m like Beatrice, please, I can’t focus with your teeth in my neck. That’s what it feels like, this fucking thing, screaming so close that her gums might as well be rubbing my ear drums. I could slap her away but that won’t shut her up. Not even a little bit. And I’m not a bad guy. So fucking Yip Yip Yip, but she doesn’t seem to get what I mean. Too abstract, I’m being with her. But this little Chihuahua won’t let up and I’m not in the mood cause I smoked this thing and I don’t even know what it was, but clearly I needed it. Beatrice, I’m like, Beatrice—I think you either need to take a sweet shit or get fucking laid.

“they forgot they had committed a crime” By Julia at Rustic Owl Cafe


Monday, November 18, 2013 at Rustic Owl Cafe
2:34pm
5 minutes
Urban Myth the board game

She was so loud I could have killed her. I don’t throw that word around lightly, I mean, I’m a good person, I swear. But she awakened something in me that no one ever has. And maybe it’s because I watched an episode of Dr. Phil last night where a woman was threatening to kill a six year old “demon child” and she seemed totally justified in her struggle. This woman, though. Her voice was penetrating my head phones–just talking in such a slow and shrill way it made me feel like I was at the dentist. I don’t think I’m actually capable of murder. No, not really. But the idea was a fun one. It made me feel alive again, and honest, which, full disclosure, my usual meds don’t let me feel. I’m not saying that because I’m being treated for things that I should be allowed to have these thoughts…I told you, I’m a good person. But when you don’t even smile when a baby waves at you, you welcome any kind of stimulus that luckily makes its way to your heart. Killing isn’t exactly the fuzzy-wuzzies, or the nurturing instincts that kick in when we’re talking about children. But the dream of it, the fantasy? God I gotta tell you, it gets me going even better than sex.

“NO ADVERTISING NECESSARY” by Julia on the 506 going east


Thursday May 8, 2013 at The Common
7:28pm
5 minutes
The front page of Report on Business
The Globe and Mail
Thursday, May 8, 2013


-When did Ellis get here?
-Hmm. Yeah. Sunday? Early.
-Were you…ever going to tell me?
-Umm, yeah. I was just waiting I guess.
-For? A written invitation, or?
-Yeah. Something like that. I was just seeing if it was a thing and it wasn’t so I was going to tell you sooner but you already saw him.
-But you knew he was coming. You knew and you still didn’t say anything to me. I’m finding it difficult to stay calm right now, Max.
-What’s the big deal? He’s sleeping on the couch anyway.
Fine.
-Yeah?
-No it’s not fine, just fine that..ugh whatever. You don’t get it.
-Yeah. I don’t. Sorry.
-It’s fine.
-See? See how people are confused by you?
-When is he leaving?
-Who?
-Oh my sweet Jesus. Ellis. Who else could I possibly be talking about?
-Nobody knows.
-How can’t..what?
-Well he’s not talking.
-Oh. Again? I didn’t know that.
-Yeah, nobody did.

“Delicious” by Julia on her bed


Tuesday, December 25, 2012
1:29am
5 minutes
The Gluten-Free Vegan
Susan O’Brien


We were practicing our kissing face in the mirror. He was getting mad at me because I kept opening my eyes to watch us do it. Sorry! I said, but if I don’t see it, I’ll never know what we’re doing wrong. Marisha and Tan cannot have a better kissing photo than us, do you understand? THIS IS SERIOUS!
He was getting annoyed. I could tell because he started twisting his beard the way he did when he was annoyed. It was a pretty obvious signal. But I was hell-bent so his twisty ways were going to have to wait. Let’s try again, I said, but this time, let’s do it like we’re alone, like no one’s watching. YOU’RE WATCHING! He said. You’re making me self-conscious and I don’t give a flying fuck if our photo is just ‘sub-par’. DO NOT SAY SUB-PAR to me. THAT IS NOT AN OPTION, JEREMY. He rolled his eyes at me, but I didn’t care. Marisha was broadcasting her cuteness all over the internet by now and if we didn’t have one to mock up the date stamp, then we would just look like second place because she did hers first. LET’S PRACTICE WITH THE WEB CAM! I squealed. We could video tape it and watch it from a couple of angles, and this way I could keep my eyes closed and he would feel a little more at ease. No. He said. This is fucking stupid. I’M DOING THIS FOR YOU, JEREMY! GODDAMMIT!