“You are my real mother, aren’t you?” by Julia on her couch

Thursday January 10, 2019
8:54pm
5 minutes
Life After Life
Kate Atkinson

I used to want Zia Vilma to be my mother cause she knew how to french braid, and make her own halloween costumes, and turn an old pair of leggings into a choker with a broken heart earring as the pendant.

She was the only one spent time with us, who played cards with us when we were little and begging to sit at table with all the adults.
She lit up when she saw us.

My own mother was a little different than she is now. She used to scream at us more then. She used to whip her eyes shut when she was yelling out all her demons.
I hated that face she made. I was afraid of it. she couldn’t look us in the eye.

“Like when I need plumbing done” by Julia at her table


Friday, December 25, 2015
11:14am
5 minutes
Revolution
Russell Brand


I’ll call my Aunt Maureen when I need my taps to stop dripping, thank you very much. I don’t need to call some plumbing “aficionado” as you like to do. My aunt Maureen, she’s a self-made woman! She didn’t have to go to plumbing school to learn about the world in a different way than she was used to. Her man was a no-good and he left, or she kicked him out, and she taught herself how to fix leaky faucets, leaky pipes, floor boards, and window cracks. It’s amazing. She doesn’t need anybody but herself and some tools and a can do attitude. So that’s who I want in my bathroom if push ever comes to shove! At least I know my aunt Maureen would take her shoes off before she tracks mud through my entire house! And when she’s done maybe the two of us can sit down over a spiked ice tea and talk about the real stuff.

“Behind the new shopping centre” by Sasha on the Queen Streetcar going West


Thursday December 19, 2013
7:42pm
5 minutes
The Globe and Mail
Thursday December 19, 2013


I am the sort of woman who brews strong coffee
I wear rubber boots with pride
I curse like I drive long highway nights
I find a promise behind the new shopping centre
I’ve been trying to avoid it
(Both the promise and the mall)
But I find myself pulled
A moth to the light of the unknowing
The promise is to see each one of you
You and you and you and you
With compassion
With the knowledge that you’re trying your very best
You and you and you and even, yes, you
Sometimes I am the sort of woman
Who takes herself very seriously
Who
Last night’s lipstick staining this morning
Cries in the kitchen when a man
Her man
Tells her what he found
Behind the new shopping centre
Tells her that he, too
Is looking for a promise
But his is threaded
Wedded
to his father
And his aunts
And his mother
In her fierce fragility

“the only kind there is.” by Sasha at Cafe Pamenar


Thursday April 25, 2013 at Cafe Pamenar
2:40pm
5 minutes
from a quote by Carl Jung

My Aunt Genevieve believes a real woman wears Parisian perfume. Genevieve is almost my Grandma, ‘cuz my real Grandma died before I was born and Genevieve was her twin sister. It works out for the better ‘cuz from when Genevieve says Grandma was a real pill. When Aunt Genevieve was seventeen she moved to France for love. She met a very handsome, drop-dead-gorgeous man named Fillipe at the beach in Muskoka and then, by the end of September, she was with him in his bachelor apartment on the Champs-Élysées. She said, “My Mama and my Papa were as angry as magpies but if I didn’t follow my Fillipe my heart would’ve broken”. It broke anyway, but not because of him. Her twin sister, my Grandma, died when she was way too young. My Mom was only three. Aunt Genevieve says that when your twin dies it feels like a phantom limb. Fillipe and Genevieve got married but they didn’t have kids, which was a really rebellious act in that day and age.