Friday August 26, 2016
Super Sad True Love Story
I remember it like it was five minutes ago. You didn’t even want to go but I told you it was something to see. You were worried about not getting a good picture and I said Trust Me It Will Be Even Better. We stopped for pizza first and that put you in a better mood. It was thin crust and saucy and probably the best we’d ever had. You said it was too salty but you were just in a funk and I tried to wait it out. When we made it to the Colosseum, your face lit up like I knew it would. It’s Beautiful, you said, and you looked up starry eyed. There’s a peacefulness at night. Fewer people, but always someone. You wanted to get mad about the men selling the neon light sticks and the sound makers that shot way up in the air, changing colour on the way down, and making children go crazy with bright love but you couldn’t. You were very pleased even if you didn’t say it every ten seconds. I wanted to dip you low and kiss you under the night sky, our happy place in Rome.
Sunday November 8, 2015
A: Are you even listening to me?
B: Of course I am –
A: What did I just say?
B: “You want to quit.”
B: Something about quitting…
A: Why is it so hard for you to just pay attention to me? Why are you always looking at the clock?
B: Do you really want to know?
B: We ordered that pizza exactly twenty seven minutes ago… And, if it’s over a half hour, we get it for free. We could really use a free pizza.
B: I’m just excited about the pizza!
A: I want to quit my job of ten years and you’re thinking about pizza.
B: Tell me you aren’t thinking about pizza?
A: You love pizza more than you love me!
B: Not true.
B: Not at all true! That would be so so sad!
A: You do love pizza…
B: I really do.
Friday October 9, 2015 at Benny’s
from an e-mail
I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid that when I open my mouth I’m going to say the wrong thing. I’m afraid I’m going to ask how Judd’s doing, if he’s been playing his guitar in the hospital. I don’t know what to say so I would like to invite you over for pizza. I’m going to make it. I’ll knead the dough and let it rise and it will be thin, how you like it. I won’t put tomato sauce on it, because tomatoes make your tongue feel strange. If you bring Judd up, I’ll listen. I won’t change the subject because I don’t know what to say. I’ll give you a massive ball of dough to take home so that you can make pizzas all week. I’ll loan you my pizza pan. I’ll kiss your eyes. I’ll let you sleep over.
Saturday, September 5, 2015
from the sign at the liquor store
Eating pizza beside you for probably the millionth time and all of a sudden it hits me, like a slightly greasy meteor, I’m in love with you.
“ShitshitshitshitSHIT,” I say, and you say, through pant-like dog breaths, “Did you burn the roof of your mouth, too?”
I go to the bathroom and wash my face. I even use Rachel’s Aveeno face scrub.
“Did you just use Rachel’s face wash?” You lean in close and I smell the pepperoni and the charming sexiness. “I’m sorry.”
“If pizza makes you feel so dirty, why do we order it every Sunday?” It’s a really great question. I resent that you asked it because there’s no way that I can explain that my obsessive face washing has less to do with the cheese-grime and more to do with how I love you.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
from Harper’s at a kiosk at the airport
When Cecelia is three weeks old, Maggie leaves her on her own on the bed and eats cold pizza standing in front of the open fridge. Eventually she hears Cecelia crying and she goes upstairs, but begrudgingly. She looks at Cecelia and says, “What do you want?” Maggie wants to be held but will eventually learn to find comfort in this question from her mother. Maggie will ask Cecelia to call her, “Maggie” not “Mom” or “Mummy”. Cecelia will do as she asks, but not without questions of her own. “You can’t have pizza,” Maggie says. Cecelia wants her milk and she knows it, but isn’t in the mood.
Sunday, April 12, 2015
A text message from Sarah
Calls me up and he’s like, it’s our only option, we’re doing it, we’re moving to New York City. I say, how can you be so sure? And he says, a place that has city in the name? That was always the winning ticket! I say, but how can you be sure. I told you! He says. It’s in the name. Okay okay, when I got my palms read at the Slice and Saint, she said that New York City would make us happy. Is this before you finished your complimentary pizza slice? I ask. Of course! He says. They don’t let you have the slice without the voodoo! The phone beeps on his end. Gotta take this one, babe! It could be destiny calling!
Wednesday March 18, 2015 at Aroma Espresso Bar
overheard at aroma espresso bar
The first thing I did was dance. Second thing was shove a Ham and Swiss baked croissant into my mouth. Still dancing. Still moving. Eating dancing moving breathing. Living. That’s what it was. Fear leaving the body. Pain released into a thousand tiny gold flakes, decorating the sky. The ham and cheese croissant was the only thing allowed in my stomach. No more knots. No more anxiety. No more burying my feelings so deep within me they could hide behind organs and slip under the radar. After the dancing eating moving breathing, FREEING thing I was doing, I threw my head back and I just laughed and laughed and laughed. The day felt warm again and I felt whole–like a hot, gooey pizza ready to be devoured by the hungry and the good.
Saturday October 25, 2014
The back of a room spray
I’ve been feeling my roots being tugged deep down from within me. They reach reach into the ground and spread like a forrest fire on a mission. They dig and they wrap around the rocks below. They hold on tight so no one can pull them up. Not even magic can bring them to the surface, poking through the tops of the earth. I was born in this place many years ago. I know this because my heart sings when it hears the call of home. A singing heart is one thing to hope for in this life. Not all hearts sing. Some whisper. This one of mine likes a quiet hum to start it off, finishing with a lulling chant and a whoop every now and again. I was brought here once and made a promise to return. Threw my coins into the fountains, wished on bracelets and pizza crusts. It worked. I keep coming back. Like a cat through the window left open at night, crawling softly into the bed occupied by a lover.
Wednesday October 15, 2014
I called him up after, I don’t know, maybe it was forever. Who’s counting, maybe he is. I’m not. I’m not counting anymore. I called him up after a year, could have been two, and I did it so I could hear the way his breath sounds. That’s all I wanted. Nothing more, and I swear it to you because I’m already spilling my guts here so you can trust that all of this is true. I was counting the days, crossing them off on a list like someone who gives themselves a gold star for every cookie they don’t eat, or a chocolate for every day until Christmas. I wasn’t eating my feelings this time because that didn’t interest me. It didn’t feel good to order two pizzas and finish them both without even a single flinch. That was the thing I knew I didn’t need anymore. But I was obsessed with trying to convince myself that I could keep going, one day at a time, without thinking of him. I was in withdrawal, or something equally as lame, and I had a problem. Either I would call him up and tell him all the things I shouldn’t, or count the days that I didn’t but wanted to.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
from some bullshit air transat “discount” lounge voucher
It’s hard for me to take myself seriously anymore. My writing is shit. I got a tattoo that is lame and predicable and offensive and awful. I’m eating bags of chocolate chips. I’m fatter than I’ve ever been. And yet… I have hope. You know why? Because there’s a man sleeping over there and I love this man and underneath all the chocolate and the fat is a baby that is his and mine. We made this little tadpole. We made it like a pizza, but with more sex and less (a bit less) mozzarella. Maybe I’ve been taking myself too seriously. Maybe that’s the joke.
Wednesday March 19, 2014
Kinfolk Issue Eleven
He orders a pizza and I’m like, “Cool. Ok. Casual…” And then it arrives and there’s pineapple and I’m like, “Who even eats Hawaiian anymore? Who even does that?” And it’s weird that he doesn’t have a couch… or a coffee table… or… Any furniture but a blow up mattress that’s, like, leaking air, so it perpetually sounds like someone is farting. But then! Then, he gets paper plates from a drawer and I’m like, “What?!” What the eff, you know? So, I pick off the pineapple and he’s like, “Sorry, I shoulda asked…” And I’m like, “No worries! It’s cool!” And then, after dinner, he starts, like, bunny-humping me, cuz’ we’re sitting on the farting bed, right, like there’s no other place to friggen sit! And I’m like, “Slow down,” and he’s like, “Yeah? You like it slow?” And I’m like, “Yeah?” And he’s like, jack-hammering me with his bony hips and he’s all, “You like that? You like that?” And I’m like, “Not really!?”
Monday November 25, 2013 at the Starbucks at Queen and Bay
The American Express Ad
The Wifi connection page
We deliver all the things! To your front door, your back door, your wherever’s most convenient door! We even do it when you’re not looking! When you’re not home! Like crazy people wearing ski masks in the dark! Just kidding! We don’t own ski masks! But we do creep around a bit. But only so it doesn’t disturb you! Only so you can rest and relax and watch your family show with your family, in absolute peace! We know about the family show, yes, but don’t be alarmed! Every family has one. It’s an easy thing to know about a person. We also know that you were saving those frozen pizza shells in the freezer for a special occasion and when it finally came, you wouldn’t eat them because “someone” forgot to buy the proper “melting cheese”. We know about that because don’t fool yourself! That one is more common than you think! The uncommon things you do are the common things we know about. We know because we’re human beings! Human beings are connected by the root, by the guts, and by the throat on most days! Those feelings are not new. Someone somewhere has had them before. That’s a wonderful thing! Your cheese problems are not rare! You are! But the experience is shared! Don’t you see? It’s not meant to trouble you! It’s meant to free you! I am you and you are me and we are we are we are we! Say it with me! I am you and you are me and we are we are we are we. Whatever you need! You can call us and we’ll know exactly when, where and why!
Wednesday February 13, 2013
It all started with a slice of pizza and then it went downhill from there. To a creepy man at the subway station, the one who used to make jokes through his missing teeth slots. To a corner store being held up by a fake armed robbery. That’s the change. That’s the before and after, only if we go too much before the first, everyone starts getting bored. There’s always a thing before the thing. But now, here and now, before and after, there’s a thing before the thing’s thin. Why can’t we all just admit that everything is relative. That slice of pizza would have been the best part of the night if it weren’t for the fake armed robbery. It would have been if pizza was everything. That’s how we do things, you know? We just compare so much we can’t help it. We can’t. I’m prettier than so and so, she’s prettier than you, therefore I’m prettier than you, but it doesn’t mean any one of us is pretty to begin with… just in relation to.