“Good girls wore miniskirts but not hot pants” by Sasha at her desk


Sunday June 18, 2017
12:007am
5 minutes
They Used To Call Me Snow White…But I Drifted
Regina Barreca


Good girls wear miniskirts and have their hair teased, that was made clear. We were to smoke and choke and snort and suck and smile smile smile. This isn’t a poem, so don’t worry about it. We were welcomed with a weigh-in and then told that if we gained the normal fifteen whatevers we would be out out out on our bodacious asses. Cassandra even said that she knew a girl who knew a girl who did gain the whatevers and they actually did kick her out and she didn’t get her deposit back or anything.

“You live on campus?” by Sasha on her couch


Sunday March 12, 2017
1:05am
5 minutes
Overheard on the 4 going west

My dorm room was on the fourth floor of the Fine Arts residence. When my Mom dropped me off – a few boxes, a laundry hamper, some bedding, a plant from Ikea – I turned away from all the people screaming in the quad. I remember putting my black and white postcards on the wall from Paris, Vienna, Greece and Switzerland, and putting the framed photograph of my boyfriend and I on the desk. I remember brushing my teeth in the communal bathroom. I remember telling my Mom that I wasn’t sure if this was going to work out.

“many universities” by Sasha at her desk


Thursday February 9, 2017
9:49pm
5 minutes
From the Manila honey chocolate bar wrapper

Billie never thought she’d do something crazy like go to University. But then she met Sam and Sam said that if you ever wanna make anything of your life you gotta. She couldn’t figure out the application, so she wasn’t sure if she was cut out for the actual thing, but she asked for help, like Sam said, and she finally got one in, just before the deadline.

“Sure you don’t wanna put all your eggs in one basket?” Sam said, polishing her pen knife. “I don’t wanna move away from here,” Billie bit a hangnail.

“Shouldn’t do that,” Sam put down her knife.

“What?”

“Bite yer nails!”

“many universities” By Julia on her couch


Thursday February 9, 2017
10:54pm
5 minutes
from the Manila honey chocolate bar wrapper

I didn’t apply to many universities. I’ve never been too good at making decisions. I applied to three and I only finalized two so really I only applied to two. I got into both-my backup then my first choice. I was glad I didn’t spend the money on applying to many others. I said goodbye to my friends and my family and I moved back to the big city. I failed to redeem one of my scholarships before it expired. Then I failed to spend all the money on my meal card and so I bought a giant tub of gummy bears to give out to my friends before the year was up. I met some deep loves of my life there. I met so many moments of procrastination. And laziness. And bad judgment.

“party town ballon time!” by Sasha in the bath


Wednesday November 12, 2014
10:02pm
5 minutes
From a text from Bec

Hey babe,
How’s it going? How was Jenny’s birthday? Party town balloon time?! I wish I could’ve been there. I miss you sooooooooo much. Like, you don’t even know. It sucks being here. My Dad is cool and my Mom is trying her best not to be a bitch but my brother? Oh my god. I honestly think that he’s an undiagnosed sociopath. Like, fully. He’s collecting dead bugs and archiving them on his wall. The wall of his room. My Mom says, “Leave him be…” as though there’s nothing weird going on at all. And he is totally obsessed with video games. He has a TV in his room now and sometimes he doesn’t even come out for meals. Mom leaves food outside his door like he’s in prison. It’s so weird. If I didn’t have Denny’s I would shoot myself in the head. But, I’m saving money, so that’s good. I guess. Ever since that DUI my parents aren’t helping with tuition so… I have to do what I have to do. I don’t want to be a bum my whole life so I have to finish this stupid degree.

“I think I’m crying from happiness” by Sasha at her kitchen table


Tuesday May 27, 2014
11:23am
5 minutes
from http://www.buzzfeed.com

WSW. Craigslist post.
You know when you’re walking down the street, and it’s lush and things are blooming all over the damn place and you suddenly touch your own cheek and you realize “I’m crying from happiness”! That happens to me. At least once a full moon. If it happens to you too, let’s talk. I’m taller than average, with bigger than average feet and kneecaps. I like baseball hats, James Dean, the colour orange and persian carpets. I was born on the East Coast but have called Toronto home since thinking I wanted to be in Journalism and attending University and then having a quarter life crisis and quitting. Now I sometimes hang out in a tattoo parlour and I sometimes bake vegan muffins (the former for money the secondary for pleasure and bowl licking alone). I’m not a vegan, but I dabble in animal protection. I’m not religious but I believe in something bigger than my little (tall) self.

“that they might have life” by Julia in a van in Lansdowne, PA


Thursday April 17, 2014
4:40pm
5 minutes
John 10:10

Weston had his hands full. Couldn’t think about all the things he needed to get done without his head exploding right off his body. He was supposed to be applying for university and supposed to be tutoring Nebraska, the albino girl with ADHD, in chemistry, and supposed to be mowing the lawn for his father, and supposed to be organizing a court yard clean up for his school so he could count those hours toward community service instead of spending his thursday mornings and friday afternoons refusing to braid Nebraska’s neck white. He had a lot of trouble saying no, which was starting to really weigh on him. He didn’t have time for sleep anymore, and wondered, often aloud, if he was even cut out for university. How could he hack it when there’d be far more to do when he got there? Or when he eventually got around to applying to a decent set of schools in all his down time.

“You’ll always be older than me” by Sasha on the Queen streetcar going West


Tuesday December 17, 2013
12:03am
5 minutes
From a birthday card

Dear Allison,
I want to be mad at you. I want it like SAT scores and peanut butter cups. But I’m… not. I look at you and I see our effing grandmother. I see the photograph of her wearing the red hat and black coat. Your face is shaped just like hers – like the moon. You’ll always be older than me. You’ll always have a birthday in January and I’ll always have a birthday in August. Aquarius and Leo. Those should be our names. Who needs “Allison”! Who needs “Suzie”! I want to be mad at you. You left me here with the depressed dog and our Father, who would rather be playing hockey than making me dinner. I hope University is really great. I do. I really do. I hope you’re kissing lots of attractive boys and that you’re wearing a great pair of boots. I hope that the food isn’t making you hefty. Joking. Joking. I love you, Al. I miss you. See you at Thanksgiving.

“nearly killed him.” by Julia at Sambuca Grill


Thursday November 14, 2013 at Sambuca Grill
9:50pm
5 minutes
creative writing MFA handbook
Tom Kealey


And it was on purpose and it would have been amazing if that bitch Gloria didn’t back out of her garage right at the moment I was going to send him to limbo to give my mother in law a message for me. Probably something like, Not so tough without your lungs are ya? I don’t know, I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. I should have just done it in his sleep like I’d planned in the first place, but SOMEBODY had INSOMNIA that night because of the heart burn because of the hot peppers. And it almost kills ME because they were my peppers and had I known he was such a little wuss, I wouldn’t have given him any, or slipped so many into his pasta. Whatever. This isn’t all on me. I could have gotten away with it too. It would have gone down in the books as an unsolved mystery because I spent four godforsaken years studying theatre in university, and as a result I know how to cry with an “emotional trigger” and would have been able to pull that “trigger” EVERY GODDAMN DAY until I could honestly say I was dry. And no one would have questioned me even a little bit. Because I’m fucking good at what I do!

“the suffering they have known” by Sasha at Moncton Rd.


Monday, July 15, 2013
11:56am
5 minutes
A Brief For The Defense
Jack Gilbert


At the beginning of the trail, I was underwhelmed. I had imagined a sprawling landscape, massive hills, cliffs like in those postcards, and either a rising or setting sun. I got none of these. What I did get was a sprinkle of rain, seventeen mosquito bites and a run-in with a mountain lion. I had come to the mountains to reconnect with my mother. She loved this place. She was a hiker, always planning her next adventure to somewhere exotic and steep. I hated her for that. She’d dump me at my second stepdad’s and say, “I’ll send postcards!” And she did. She was true to her word. She’d send a few a week. I kept them all in a Payless Shoe Store box until I moved to go to university. I wish I hadn’t recycled them. I wish I had those small scrawlings of her dignity and her heart.