skeleton me

months months months since I have written anything here, or anything anywhere it feels like (though it is not entirely true).

Of late, I’ve been reading lotsa books by clever often funny ladies writing about their lives…

  1. You’ll Grow Out of It by Jessi Klein
  2. Girl with the Lower Back Tattoo by Amy Schumer
  3. Shrill by Lindy West*
  4. Sex Object by Jessica Valenti
  5. My Life on the Road by Jessica Steinem

I am less clever and not as funny but I am a LADY and why don’t I write about my life? I have a passing fancy to use this space as a kind of memory catalogue. Capture the stuff before my addled brain drops more memories.

I’ve started using my Overpriced But Fucking Gorgeous Rifle dayplanner as a kind of insta-journal with tiny notes about days and drawings of grey clouds raining when weeks are terrrrrible (and by terrible I mean stressful or frustrating — not actual human suffering level terrible). I like the practice; I feel like at the end of the year I’ll actually have some record to look back on and be like, Oh yeah me and Erin did watch 1,000 videos of Kate McKinnon being amazingly hilarious, I should do that again.

*blogging break to watch Solange*

So, so what. Maybe I will start posting here again. Maybe I will get my act together and start doing (some of) the stuff I dream about doing, be it small medium large extra large extra tiny.

Feels like it’s a weird year, a weird time for me — gonna capture it, remember it THOSE ARE TAYLOR SWIFT LYRICS my brain just substituted TS lyrics for original thought. Fuck what critical memory was dumped so I would recall the lyrics to fearless?

Blerk, as my sister says.

*Shrill was my fave of these 5, in case you were like is this list in order of liking? nope.


soft shock

Yeah_Yeah_Yeahs_-_It's_Blitzhi dearies, I forgot about It’s Blitz and oh geez what a delight. on repeat.

my Transformer: More than Meets the Eye program is going A+, and I survived the Go to a Party and Don’t Eat Snacks/Ribs/Cake or Over-Booze It Up challenge, and somehow also managed to stay awake til 2:30 in the a.m. having had only one wee cup of coffee a million hours earlier. And I had the best conversation about professional wrestling I have ever had in all my years of being an ECW editor: truly a delight. All my preconceived notions are being blown to smithereens, or crushed like a raw egg in Karen O’s hand.

Hurrah for that.

I’m working on a Writing Project, which I’m too superstitious/gun-shy/regular shy to talk about yet, but I can just feel myself wanting to run away from it so I’ll never know if I suck or not at this particular exercise. But it’s gotta suck at first. Why would I just start off being a #1 genius? Will keep reminding myself that.

Erin’s cat has been meowing at the wall, like he knows something is going on in there that we don’t know, and the ghost doorbell has been ringing and I don’t know for sure, but I might be in Act 1 of a horror film.

better than before: day 1

on the streetcar with Jen Friday evening, she told me about how in Gretchen Rubin’s book on habits (which was already on my TBR pile; I love a habit book), she categorizes personalities into Four Tendencies — and, Jen said, there’s a quiz online to find out what you are (I love a personality quiz). So now it’s Sunday morning, and I have figured out that I’m an Obliger (to a certain extent), and I am on Day 1 of embarking on new habits, something I’ve had a very, very hard time cracking in the past. Daylight savings time change = my clean-slate start.

Most of what I’m looking to revamp right off the bat falls into the category of Foundation habits (Gretchen’s term): sleep, move, eat and drink right. I’ve made a rough plan, but have some work yet to do on safeguarding my new habits — I’m an EXPERT at weaselling out of promises made to myself. Which is why I’m here, posting on this dusty old blog. Obligers are into accountability outside our own shifty, tricksy heads: “Obligers meet outer expectations, but struggle to meet expectations they impose on themselves.” Yep, that. So I’m going to chronicle my habit-revamping here, in an effort to be accountable to You, the imagined reader. Other accountability strategies, forthcoming…

Wish me luck.


today is a day of listening to 1990s-era Madonna, wearing a t-shirt that features a kitten wearing a cowboy hat riding a shark that is vomiting a rainbow in space, and wasting the afternoon away.

I haven’t been writing this year, like…nearly at all. There will be no more volumes in the Love You to Death series, which I am pretty OK with. It was a lot of work, and it was a good run — and goddamn if the Season Five book isn’t jam-jam-jam-packed with awesome interviews and a flipping foreword by Kevin Williamson which still boggles my mind when I think about it — and now Vee and I are freebirds flitting around, looking for new branches to perch on. The shitty thing about not doing another book with that lady is that man, I don’t talk to and email her every day all day. (Miss you, Vee.) (I am going to iMessage you right now.) (Okay, better.)

It’s a weird place to be writing-wise, I tell ya. I started writing my first book back in 2008, I guess it must’ve been, and for the next seven years it was a writing marathon party. And now? What the heck do I do with myself? I took an art class. I hang out with my pals. I wonder what I’ll write when I write again.

Rambling blog posts without purpose seem like a pretty good place to reboot, right?


red lips and rosy cheeks

This blog, never well attended to, is now mostly just German men talking about how much they love Chace Crawford in my comment section. It’s been so long since I’ve been on here that I plum forgot how to log on. Geez, Calhoun. Get your shit together.

Since last we met: I moved from the far east end of Toronto to the west end, right around where I went to high school and I keep having flashbacks (and echoes…) to this or that teen life experience. Which I do not mind at all. Plus: good Polish/Ukrainian restaurants where pierogies can be acquired and eaten. Now I have a roommate and a cat roommate and laundry right in the apartment and a yard and it’s basically paradise.

Since last we met: Love You to Death 5 came out, and it’s my favorite cover since maybe my season 1 book, and it’s chockfull of interviews — like, brimming with ’em — and I’m very proud of it. Would make an excellent holiday present for the TVD person in your life, no? Yes yes yes. Buy them allllllll.

It’s been strange times to not be writing about The Vampire Diaries this season — I just watch the episodes. I am not even watching TVD live, due to cable budget cutbacks. (New apartment costs a wee bit more than former apartment, ergo…) So, like, I do not even know what is going on in TVD fandom. It is a very strange feeling, friends. But I gotta say that having those eight or so hours back in my weekend — it took a while to rewatch the episode making copious notes and then writing 2,000 words about it for — is a very strange feeling in a good way. Yesterday, I just popped by my sister’s and played Go Fish for hours. A surprisingly dynamic game, Go Fish.

Now is the time of year when I race to finish my Goodreads challenge, and I have been blazing through some great books by clever women (Roxanne Gay, Amy Poehler, Lena Dunham, Caitlin Moran), but have now turned to my TBR pile of mysteries. Flavia DeLuce awaits…

Oh and to answer the search term I saw whilst approving Chace Crawford German Love comments, “what college did crissy calhoun go to?” well, I went to the University of Toronto, Victoria College, for my undergrad and got an honors BA specialist in English (after futzing around studying film and art history too), and then a few years later, went to Centennial College for the publishing program (which is how I winded up with my gig at ecw, where shockingly I have been working for just shy of ten years. Ten years!).


tulips inside, snow outside

Oh climate change. Snow on April 15th, +20 Celsius on April 14th. I’m sure everything will be fine, really. Let’s just plan for the apocalypse anyway.

Eatin’ some fruit salad, drinking some stupidly weak coffee, another day at ECW HQ to start rather soon. I’ve been feeling under the weather and a bit stupid and lazy lately, so my apologies for flaking on writing a PLL finale recap yet, and for being so behind on my posts. But I’m mere moments from getting my head in the game again. Cue that song from High School Musical. Or this much better song from an album I can’t stop listening to.

sleepy helllloooo

I’ve basically forgotten to ever, ever, ever blog here, but I am still alive, I promise. Today has been the sleepiest so far — for some reason, I’m sleeping in like a teenager these days? — but here’s what is up:

With the return of TVD next week — episode 100! — I’ll be back reviewing/recapping The Vampire Diaries at, and one of my new year’s resolutions is to post at a regular time! No lateness tolerated! So, expect ’em by Sunday midday, folks, and shame me on the internet if I’m late.

ALSO I’ve begun recapping Pretty Little Liars for Heroine TV! Read my posts on the first and second episodes. I’ve also popped on to co-host Lucia’s podcast, talking about Downton Abbey and Reign — history! edutainment! — and I’ll be talking PLL and Ravenswood with Lucia and Tash, hopefully later tonight.

On the book writing front, Vee and I are working on Love You to Death — Season 5 and PRETTY SOON we’ll have a cover to show you, which we hope you will think looks as SUPER COOL as we do.

I think that’s it?