Music

Jesse made me a playlist on Spotify before he died. He titled it “Harleen Quinzel”, and in the description he wrote that I was the love of his life.

Sitting here listening to it now, I feel guilt and regret. The first 2 songs are my songs. The opening song is Fake Love by Daniel Jang, who is a violinist and the entire song is strings and keys and when it fills the room and all that’s left of Jesse is the stupid tattoo on my wrist and this playlist he left for me, it eats me alive.

The next song is from a band I kept a secret from everyone but I suppose it doesn’t matter now: Her Space Holiday. And the track is, “Something To Do With My Hands”. That one cuts out quickly at the end and the next songs are all Jesse’s picks.

“Play this when I’m gone” comes on and the irony doesn’t escape me.

I guess I know what love is, then. And it ain’t shit. Here's it:

20 years

It’s been 20 years since my little sister, Emily Grace, was killed in a car accident. 

Here is proof. The car on the left is the one in which my mother’s mother, my grandmother, was driving, when she fell asleep at the wheel and also died on the scene.

I was in the passenger seat. My foot was broken. I woke to my grandmother whimpering, “Someone help me, get me out of here,” I heard her die. All I could say though, was, “Where is my sister?” 

When my parents arrived at the hospital in Quebec that day, I got the answer. “She’s in heaven, with grandma,” My mother said.

I was 15 years old. This happened on August 2nd, 2005. I called her Emma. She was 13 turning 14 in 22 days. Her birthday is August 24th, 1991.

She was funny. We used to walk 15 minutes to Chapters with our girlfriends Kelsey and Hannah every day, and we’d talk about everything. We’d discuss death, even. Emma said she would haunt us on the toilet so we’d jump up and get pee everywhere. One of her famous jokes was, “What’s the matter, Grandma? You piss your Depends?” For anyone who doesn’t know, Depends are adult diapers.

My grandmother always called her “bold”.

I never wanted sympathy. I learned that I’m truly alone. I’ve come to the final step of grief: acceptance, and I’m happy and well-adjusted. I’ll never forget her, though. I posted pictures of her here, in case you needed proof she was hilarious.

ETA: I know I post that car accident pic too much, but I can’t fucking believe that happened to me.

Spring

Other than critiquing pole videos of myself and listening to a triple emo playlist Spotify made me on my birthday after choosing a variation of emo for every category they suggested, I haven't been doing much. At the end of every day, I rip my eyelashes off and contemplate existence.

This spring has so far been epic. Lots of rain. The hot weather is just arriving now. Finally I opened my window. This is probably my favourite time of the year. I love how sunrise is at 5:30 am. It's my favourite thing about spring.

Beautiful

It’s beautiful: even when it’s raining, even when it’s snowing for the millionth time. It’s beautiful and there’s no other way to look at life if you ask me. If I wanted to think a negative thought, the mood stabilizers would prevent it. The doctor upped my dosage three summers ago when I was acting erratic after Phil passed away. 400 mg of happiness. Once a month. Injected into my arm. At the outpatient clinic in the Montfort Hospital.

It could be worse. I could be drinking straight whiskey and doing drugs, but I’m not. Every day I am thankful to be sober and mindful of my existence. I can breathe, I can see, and I feel like myself again.

Fake plants

Every plant in my garden is fake. 

Jesse Larocque

Tomorrow would have been Jesse’s birthday. I am forever changed by what we went through. I love you, I miss you. I do this all in memory of you.

No one will save you

At some point, you have to take control of your life, no matter how bad your childhood was. Blaming someone else for your problems never works. I would know. Running around doing nefarious things on the streets taught me that you only have yourself in this world. No one will save you. Barely anyone helps you. You’ve got to help yourself.

Driving

I have cat-like agility when it comes to driving. I like driving. One of the jokes we have about driving is: we’ll drive to IKEA (which is on the other side of the city) during traffic so we can talk the whole way.

One time a bus driver stuck his hand out the window and told me to slow down. The fastest I ever drove was 160 on the way home from Toronto. 

One time a lady got out of her car at a red light, walked up to my car, and asked me why I drive so crazily.

I drove drunk only once. I never got caught but I did smash into someone else’s car and had to pay for the damage.

I got sued for $1 million dollars after rear-ending someone on Ogilvie. Insurance covered it. I had to go to examinations for discovery. After that, my father and I spoke with the lawyer for our insurance company and she said it was a bogus claim. We never found out how much he got in the end.

Sadness

Sometimes, when I think about the restaurant that I work in, sadness overcomes me. Sadness from all the secrets from the customers, the workers and even my bosses. It consumes me so much I cry. There is a lot, but not much I can be specific about, but it all amounts to a lot. A lot of sadness, that is. This is a rare occasion, on which I think about it all and cry. In fact, I think this might be the first time. It’s unsettling and discomforting. I’m soft, in the end, even though I may look tough.

Safe, healthy

A lot changed. I chopped off all my hair. I got a new tattoo. I feel like a newer version of myself, one I like better. The winter is coming to an end and the clocks spring forward today. 
I’m still schmoozing tables for tips at the diner up the street. They asked me why I liked it so much there. “I was a waitress without a restaurant,” I explained. I’m still posing on my crooked pole and taking photos with the self-timer in my buzz-cut and boots.
My boss grabbed my hand and told me to slow down. I applied her advice elsewhere in my life, as well as at work. It has helped me. 
My apartment is so beautiful at 4:45 pm when the sun is shining right through the window. I never take days like this for granted. It feels better than anything knowing I am safe and healthy.

Nice

That's what would of done you in: expecting acceptable commentary from someone who looks like they don't know how to be acceptable in the first place. You have to hold your tongue. If you can't think of something nice to say, you don't say anything at all.

Love

When someone tells me they love me, I don’t care who it is, or what our relationship is, I always tell them I love them back.

Day 1

Somehow, I lost myself. It happened sometime after high school ended and it lasted for a very long time. I am not uncomfortable in my growth. It makes me uncomfortable to not grow. Today is day 1. 

Government

While Donald Trump is yelling about tariffs on the news, I am furiously building my second ever greenhouse in Sims 4 on my laptop from the corner of the room, seriously doubting the goodness in the world. Politics never interested me. As far as I’m concerned, there is little to nothing I can do about the state of society. It’s not the government’s fault your life is fucked up, something I learned early in life. Not in Canada, at least.

Winter

Statistically, Ottawa is the coldest capital in the world. Tons of snow is crippling the US, where people deny climate change, but there's barely any signs of winter here. Ottawa's notoriously colder than Toronto, too, which is on Lake Ontario. The time I spent in Toronto, the winters were mild. Now the winters are mild here, in Ottawa, which bodes well for me. I like winter, especially a mild winter. The cold, fresh air makes me feel alive.

2024

This is what I learned about myself last year: I do have bipolar I. I did experience mania and depression before I was medicated. I don’t want to fight over it anymore. I have come to the realization that I must accept my diagnosis. In doing so, I have become curious about the disorder. Usually when something’s broken, I say, “it gives it character.” I’m not broken, though, just different.

Mental illness

In my opinion, everyone has mental illness. It’s just the degree to which it affects you.

Now dry your tears and go to work. Because that’s what people do. 

5am Girl

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The news

I could be anywhere else in the world. I could be demonstrating during a protest. I could be in war-torn countries, third-world countries. But I'm here, in Ottawa, safe as milk. Ottawa is one of the 10 safest cities in Canada. I've never felt unsafe here, even walking around the street late at night by myself. The problems in the world infuriate and confuse me. I watch the news only to turn it off.

Kaylie Smith

A 16-year-old girl is recovering from a vicious attack in Cobalt, Ontario, a town 500 km northwest of Ottawa. On Sunday night, her ex-boyfriend, an 18-year-old, struck her with a vehicle and cut off her hands with a knife. She was airlifted to CHEO and is alive. She underwent brain surgery as the weapon was lodged in her skull. Her ex is facing charges of attempted murder. 

Femicide is a term for the murdering of females. A partner is responsible in 40% of homicides involving a female victim. Every year, an average of 66,000 women are violently murdered globally.

This is an epidemic.

Pictures

I'm crying because I usually get what I want and I want it but I can't have it. Instead I'm singing love songs at pictures of myself. And getting recognized for my hard work. Nothing feels better than that.

Halloween

It feels like a summer night though it's almost Halloween. I'm on the phone to my girlfriend looking out at the highway which is black but for headlights. My playlist is comforting. I had another great week at work, another good month. I count them down. I record everything these days. I started a new journal for daily affirmations and mantras.

I got a new Big Bird costume from Spirit Halloween. Every year, I'm Big Bird, but this year, he's been updated. It's going to look amazing and I recommend everyone visit me at work that day. Halloween is on a Thursday this year. My birthday falls on a Monday, which is the first of my days-off. I'm going to go to the flower cafe and take Polaroids.

It was the half-smile that got me. It doesn’t help my favourite work is always about you.

Heaven

No, I don’t believe in heaven. There is definitely no such thing as heaven. Who could believe that, after you die, you continue to live? I pray but I don’t think it gets me anywhere. One day, the girls at work asked me if I believe in heaven. 

“No,” I said.

They didn’t believe in heaven either.

October

It’s fall. The clouds overtake the sky making everything glow. Like that, summer ends. Snow covering the earth is what's next, after Halloween. The evening sun disappears. The birds go south. Hibernation is upon us. I like this time of year. It's a time for reflection and reconsideration.

I did it for my art

You could chalk it up to me being fucked up over my childhood. I did it for my art, though. I wanted to pick at the dark recesses of other’s sick minds. I did it to write about it. So I’d know what it was like: what it felt like, what it looked like. Looking in the scariest places of the city I found what I wasn’t looking for. Death, drugs, pain, loss. I knew what I was doing.

This does not bode well. With you, not talking to me, and me just talking to myself. 

Thoughts after work

I come home from work. I put on my favourite playlist, my favourite clothes. I think this is the way you're supposed to live your life. I pretend I'm elsewhere but everything stays the same. I don't know if minutes mean anything but many pass me by. I let the beat play over the thoughts in my mind because I don't want to think them. Instead I think about hustling breakfast plates. It is engrained in my fibre to work, I was raised this way. I don't know what I'd do without it.

I used to be friends with people who didn’t have jobs. I used to not have a job. I hated it. Something about memorization, rhythm, money. Something about having somewhere to go. It gives me purpose. 

35 in 2025

I let people push me around. I sacrificed happiness for the sake of others. I let people walk all over me, use me even. I don’t know why and I have no explanation. I was young. I was impressionable and feeble-minded. I would never let this happen again. I stand my ground now. I’ve matured and grown up. I’m 35 almost. I’ll be styling by the time I’m 40. I wonder what the world has yet to show me.

Asexuality

In the last 24 hours, two men have told me they “need a girlfriend.” If there’s anyone who doesn’t need a partner, it’s me. In fact, the very idea turns me off. I am a sex-repulsed asexual. I have always been this way. The world is so hyper-sexualized. It's gross, to me.

Asexuality is the lack of sexual attraction to others. There are asexuals who are indifferent to sex and don’t mind it, and then there’s me: someone who is repulsed by the idea of sex.

I like to be left alone. Thanks in advance.

Reap what you sow

There are things you should know about me, like that my sister died. And there are things you may have gathered about me, from reading my work, like how I love my job no matter what. I don't want to forget about her. It moulded me, her death. It made me who I am today. Without having known Emma, I might be half as compassionate as I am now. And I'm not that compassionate to begin with. I believe people reap what they sow.