“cinnamon, cardamom and ginger” by Julia on her couch

Monday, November 26, 2018
8:44pm
5 minutes
A recipe for apple muffins

I haven’t baked anything in a long time
I’m more of an improvise, throw things together on the stove top than follow directions and use chemistry kind of person.
I do not like someone else telling me how to make something and yet I have been desperate for someone else to weigh in on my life and tell me what’s right and what I should do.
I don’t like rules and I don’t like protocol and I don’t like social courtesies. I want freedom at the cost of the Room’s comfort. Which room, any room, this room. I want to be the mess and the reward. I want to push boundaries instead of being afraid of them.
Some people call this impolite. I am very impolite. A test I took in the summer told me that. I was in the 4th percentile. 4 our of 100 people in a room would be more impolite than me. It could be a good thing. Maybe sometimes you wish you were loud and forward and rude. Maybe it could help you get a few things done.

“some of your visitors” by Julia in London Fields


Wednesday December 31, 2014
6:11pm
5 minutes
http://www.wordpress.com

Some of your visitors have been overstaying their welcome. They have still not brought you a nice bottle of wine and they somehow continue to forget to take off their shoes before going upstairs to the bedroom. What I will say to you, and you know to whom I’m referring, is that certain guests who don’t show appreciation for their hosts’ home will not be tolerated to remain visitors. Some of your visitors have contemplated stealing from you, taking your possessions hidden deep in the over-fridge cupboard when you are in the shower or out picking up items to make their breakfast. This might be a warning. I’d take it as such if I were you.

“Hope for summer heat in Ontario” by Sasha on her couch


Tuesday May 20, 2014
11:04pm
5 minutes
The Weather Network

You guys, like you don’ even know! You guys, I was waiting for the bus and this guy says to me, “You got an ugly face!” an’ I’m like, “Is this even happening?” An’ then he says it again, “YOU GOT AN UGLY FACE!” An’ I’m like… Whattaya even say to that, right? “That’s harsh, man,” I says to him and he comes up real close to me, like I smell the hot dog he musta just eaten or whatever and he says, “No disrespect,” an’ I’m like, “Uh, yeah “disrespect!” You jus’ told me I got an ugly face!” You guys, I almost laughed. Like, you don’ believe that someone’s jus’ gonna get in your grill an’ tell you what they think like that! “What’s the poin’ a sayin’ somethin’ like that?” I says to this guy, this dumb guy. He’s like, “Havin’ a bad day, you know. Jus’ havin’ a bad day…” An’ then I think about how I’m havin’ a great day! It’s hot! It’s basically summer! Guys, this guy wasn’t gonna bring me down!

“he said I wasn’t suitable for the rodeo no more” by Julia on the 506 going west


Tuesday February 4, 2014
10:41pm
5 minutes
Talking With…
Jane Martin


Probably cause I bucked a guy. I bucked him. I’m not sure it needs further explanation. Cause that’s what I did, I bucked him. Where? In his face, obviously. Cause. Cause he deserved it. I wouldn’t buck a guy if he didn’t deserve it, of course not. He was rude to me. He was patronizing and rude to me. So what? So I bucked him, that’s so what. Because! I didn’t like his attitude, my words weren’t going to do anything and so I just turned around and I buck–I just know. I just know. I just know. Because he wasn’t the type to listen so I didn’t bother–I didn’t want to waste my time on explaining something to someone who wasn’t going to receive it. You weren’t there so I guess we’ll never know. Cause he deserved it, am I going to have to repeat myself all nigh–no. No I said I bucked him. Yes that’s what I said. Well try to just picture it exactly as it sounds. No you didn’t hear wrong. I BUCKED HIM.

“He was a rich asshole.” by Julia on her couch


Sunday, December 16, 2012
11:07pm
5 minutes
Hands Off
An essay by Miranda July


I’m not going on any more dates with any more rich assholes. If I want to be treated to dinner and a couple glasses of Prosecco, I’ll start crashing holiday parties and pig out near the buffet with my open bar, thank you very much. I dated Tim for too long before I realized I was killing my soul every time I saw him. He was nice, but not nice to the waitress, which to me is a clear indication that he was not nice. He snapped at her so much I could have sworn he was a secret percussionist. I almost snuck out the bathroom window the last time we went to a restaurant together. The only reason why I didn’t get out was because there was an attendant trying to spritz me and sell me condoms and gum. The spritz I took, the gum I did not. I didn’t have money to tip this bitch trying to invade my bathroom experience. He was the one with the money, but I couldn’t very well ask him to come with me to the lady’s room just because I had gotten so used to him paying for every single thing that I stopped bringing my wallet. I didn’t realize the attendant would be so cruel. She cornered me into a stall and told me it was okay and that she could wait till I found the money. That wasn’t my finest moment.