I complain about long hours spent in front of a computer, travelling via transit, interviewing people who are just uncooperative, my camera running out of battery, word limits and the fact that most of my assignments seem to involve me being downtown during the dead of night.

But I love you, newspaper.  I love you, editor, for being so understanding and patient not just with me, but with the rest of our team.  I love you, fellow journalists, for just being awesome, even though we only just met.  And I’m so going to miss doing this come September.

Since the newspaper’s a religious publication, thanking God seems proper at this point.  So thank you, for arranging that Wanted ad in a barely-noticeable spot barely one week before the application deadline.  And as much as I complain about You sometimes, our relationship is similar to the one between me and the newspaper.  It’s frustrating, but I’m so glad I know You.

“Why Won’t You Eat Eggs?” - The Story of My Life

“How I Turned Into a Butterfly Several Times And Got Shot Down Each Time” *

“Ha!  Take That, Grade Six French Teacher!”

“I May as Well Marry the TTC” or “Why do Girls I Like Take Transit a Lot?”

“Filipino-Canadian Minus the Filipino” or “I Should Probably Figure Out What ‘Chismis’ Means One Day”

“I Should Probably Read Less Depressing Books”

“I’m Pretty Sure that Reading Messed Me Up”

“Hooray for Elitism: Why I’m Pretty Damned Sure that the Gifted Program Messed Me Up”

“Why I Owe My Life to People who Just Don’t Like Me”

“Catholic and Gifted at the Same Time!?  Really!?”

“I’m Not Depressed, I’m Just Honest.  I Hope.”

“The Story of My Super-Badass Little Sister, My Best Friends Who Want to Save the World…and myself”

“Why Do People I Love Run Away From Me? - The Story of My Life” **

“I Should Probably Leave the House Ten Minutes Earlier - The Story of My Life”

* Life isn’t exactly this depressing, I just feel like being cynical today.

** Incidentally, I do know the answer to this question.  It’s usually my fault, admittedly.

Anonymous asked: I just ate donuts and I have really bad gas. Any advice? #YOLO

Maybe you should take some time

Just sit down over there

Soon, you’ll return to your prime

So wait and pass some air

-

Reflect on it; was it worth the price

To enjoy your succulent treat?

It caused you such pain, although it seemed nice

So remember to watch what you eat

Makeup is like cupcake frosting.  It’s sweet, it makes it looks scrumptious, but then you bite into it and it’s just way too sweet.  One of my friends baked cupcakes for us, and said: “Oh, I’m sorry.  I didn’t put frosting on it.”  And I said: “I want to appreciate the bread too, you know!”

“Even though I’m older, and understand why it happened now, when I think about it, I still feel the same way I felt when my parents separated.”

“With you by my side, guarding my door…”

Isabel’s ears awoke before her eyes did. Her arm stretched to the source of the song as she turned her face away from the calculus textbook she rested on. She struggled to keep her eyes open in the glare of the living room lights, which had been shining all through the night. Her head ached from lying on a textbook, and her legs no longer wanted to be squeezed like an accordion, even though she had sunk herself in a soft, hazelnut couch.

“…I’m your prisoner, and happy to be yours…”

Isabel snatched her cellphone, grunting, “Hello?”

A firm voice replied, “It’s Dominic.”

“Oh. Hey. It’s been awhile.”

“Can I crash at your apartment?”

“What?”

“Long story. I’m outside right now, can you let me in?”

Read More

A man in his early 20s who was just going home from film school. He was working on his final project and was happy at how it turned out, even though certain team workers hadn’t pulled their weight. He knew the challenges of a film career, and how hard it would be to find audiences. Still, he looked forward to his future; the only one he could envision.

He was reading The Hunger Games, since he was planning to see the movie with a friend, and he became worried for a second, thinking I would spoil the ending.

A man in his 50s who was a little panicky. White hair, glasses, twitchy. He had a meeting at 7:00, but traffic was blocking the street ahead, a subway route had been shut down and police were necessary to ease the chaos. Needless to say, he kept looking at his watch. I’m not actually sure if he made it to his meeting on time.

It was his last day of being chairman at a certain organization after ten years. Apparently, he obtained his position after having been a close assistant to the previous chairman; the latter died of a heart attack shortly afterwards. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like passing on the organization after death would turn into a tradition. 

Cross country.  9th place.  One of only three people from her school who made it into her race’s Top 10.