So, I'm sitting here, at my writing desk, in my bathing suit and cover up...just about to leave for a covid test and then a beach day...in THAT ORDER. Oh summer, 2021. You gotta test to work, people, and I have GRATEFULLY had about 100 covid tests (or more) in the last eleven months. GRATEFULLY. GET VACCINATED!! That is my PSA for vaccination for the day. Please don't write me if you disagree...I mean, you can if you want...but, to be honest, I will not read it. Just keeping it real and true. ANYHOW!! I was meditating this morning...I know,…

A couple of months ago, just after I started work for the summer, I came home after a long day, turned on the lights, looked around and realized that my apartment... ...I love calling it an apartment like they do in NY, even when it's a condo, so I'm going with that.... ...I realized that my APARTMENT was almost finished...there was nothing I needed to buy or find to make it warmer. It was done. I promised myself, back when I sold my house, I would only sell my house, if I made my APARTMENT as awesome as my house...and…

Hey Mighty HUMANS! It's a lazy, hot Sunday here in the 416...I cannot pull that off, can I?...that amount of coolness...rephrase: it's a lazy, hot Sunday here in Toronto. I used to do this thing on the FACEBOOK back when I was on it all the time...it's a demon, that platform...I would find WHOLE afternoons captured and held ransom, while I looked around at how wonderful everyone else's vacation/life/outfit/relationship was... DEMON...anyhow, back in the day, I used to make lists of things that were never long enough to write a blog about, but that I felt deserved to be written…

  I was driving home from my pal’s cottage (it was an absolutely lovely trip, to say the very least) this weekend, and a stray thought slithered through my water logged, sun cooked and 100% peaceful/happy brain. What if I could live, change, work, grieve, love, move, sleep and lay in my body…this body…without impunity or notice? What would that look and feel like? Read that again…and imagine. I think I actually moaned out loud at this sudden,  shocking and desirable thought. I mean…IMAGINE. IMAGINE just waking up, breathing, living, being and changing without anyone commenting, noticing or categorizing. Fuuuuck…

Just a thought..or two... 1. Are you ever driving around in your car between COVID tests (I had two today...I actually enjoy it...for some reason, it's like getting a tank full of gas) and ENDLESS LOVE...THE ORIGINAL, with Lionel Richie and Diana Ross...comes on, and you are so in your feels that you sing your guts out AND THEN say the following: Siri, repeat that song. ...and go AGAIN!?!? And when you wrap up your second vocal exploration of ENDLESS LOVE, feeling like you are in pretty good voice today, Whitney Houston's I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU starts playing? And…

The year after I moved into my first house (rental) with my ex-husband, we got a FAX MACHINE. I put the words FAX MACHINE in caps so you understand the gravity of this situation. FAX MACHINE. Yes, we are going back into the Hot Tub Time Machine, people, so put on your t-shirt under your strappy, flowery dress and slip on your wedged shoes. (Remember that?) It seemed VERY fancy to have a fax machine, and my agent at the time assured me that it would pay for itself ASAP. Sharron! THINK OF IT! There would be no more running…

I've not written in the last week and a half because, two Saturdays ago, I got the second Moderna shot, with my bubble friend Mike...and holy fuck. I told him, as we sped along the 404 towards the FreshCo.in Markham VERY early in the morning to get it (I love Vaccine Hunters, let me say THAT here, they are doing the good work that the province fucked up)... that I'm very sensitive (he already knows this) and was totally trying NOT to self fulfill ANY side effects. He said we'd be fine. WE were fine the first time...we'd be fine…

  1:45pm Today I’m driving down Gerrard Street, with a mirror in my trunk that looked way better in the picture on FaceBook Marketplace. Why didn’t I just tell the seller it wasn’t worth $60? Yes, I paid $60 for it. You wanna know WHY I didn’t say anything, WHY I just handed her the money and sprinted back to my car with the not-so-great mirror? I have to pee so bad, that I don’t have time for any extra fuckery. I’m AT LEAST 30 minutes from my home, in possession of a fifty-two year old perimenopausal bladder filled with…

Today, I arrived home from my second day of shooting on a new gig...info to follow... ...Everything in this business is so secret-ie...but, there we are... ...ANYHOW...today, after I parked my car in the underground garage, I took the elevator to the main floor and walking to the mail area, I was reminded of all the other mailboxes I had to check last year on a regular basis, before I moved into my new place. The one at my old house in Stratford. The one at my old apartment on King East. Then, at the end the year, this one...and…

I feel like a friggen broken record, but my friend Lisa, who I've been talking with about weight and the theatre ever since we were in our early twenties in Les Miserables together, sent me an article...it's at the bottom of this post...and as I read it, it hooked me BACK into the feeling I'd had the day before, when I wrote MELT OFF (the post just before this one). The article led me through my whole life in the theatre as someone who was not "perfectly" sized for casting. And, because I am 52 now, I feel like it's…