Sarah

My goal in life is now to write the Great Canadian Novel (For Overworked People to Read on a Wednesday Night).

I'm starting to think it takes a genius to write something charmingly airheaded.

When I say I want to read a silly, frivolous book, I don't want that book to be poorly written.

Yes! They certainly have similar energies onscreen. Scott is right for the part and it's a solid version, but I still prefer the Lumet film (and Cobb) by a wide margin.

Life exists to mortify me.

Nobody I know, that's for sure.

Guess who's got two thumbs and is about to see the same roadside assistance guy for the second time this week because she forgot to turn off her headlights again.

Could really go for some feral-hogs-style posting right now. Nobody try to make this happen. It needs to be organic.

No luck, in case you were wondering.

Did I just google "Joseph Breen in a bathing suit" for a joke? That's between me and the world government monitoring my internet activity.

If you have a Tumblr called Premillennialists in Ill-Fitting Shoes, no shade. Keep being weird.

Unlike some, I don't have a fetish for the ankles of men with Lego hair who project their sexual shame onto everyone else.

Now I gotta look at pictures of Republican feet? Will no corner of my brain be spared?

There's an essential part of learning than involves pressing every button and swearing that I worry kids are trying to bypass.

As do I!

Figure I've got about 17 more days of blaming the time change for all my inadequacies.

Dakota Johnson's legs and torso are visible while she plays pool and says "That scene, I've never seen anything like that before."

That's exactly what the people at Canadian Tire said.

Like Dakota Johnson, I've also captured attention by slowly revealing my bum for a camera. It was the security camera at Canadian Tire and I'd unknowingly ripped a giant hole in my pants. But still.

Watched that Dakota Johnson Calvin Klein ad and she and I have so much in common it's spooky. Bangs AND a couch? We're twins.

Hahahaha

And by "lashed myself to my office chair" I mean "surrounded my keyboard with chips."

Have lashed myself to my office chair to finish my transcribing work, so if you hear any swears whispering to you in the wind, that's me.

Don't have any further social media platforms in me, so if this one goes under, I'll be juggling a dozen niche group chats with names like "Interested in Character Actors Who Played Bellhops" and "Self-Deprecation City."

If physical media can come back, then so can Western Union. Bespoke skeets for all.

Well, at least nobody can become CEO of me shouting my posts through a megaphone.

Actors Greta Garbo and John Barrymore — both in costume, Garbo in a light-coloured floor-length gown designed by Adrian, Barrymore in a white shirt, black smoking jacket and trousers — captured facing the camera while sitting together on director's chairs, a bed quilt on the back of Garbo's chair, both turning to look at each other as they converse, lighting equipment visible behind them, in a full-length black-and-white shot taken during a break from filming on the set of the film Grand Hotel (1932)

Greta Garbo and John Barrymore during a break from filming Grand Hotel (1932)

Like the person you just reposted, we'd regularly get a Broons compendium from my mom's aunt in Scotland. So that's 3 degrees of latitude south.

My favourite film ❤️. And magical is as good a descriptor as any. I know every line of dialogue—even some of the Scots Gaelic—& yet it’s still the first I reach for when my heart is aching. 88 perfect minutes.

Not sure that was strictly legal on my grandmother's part, but the criminals are all dead now and I learned a lot on that hot piano.

My great-grandmother was a Sarah, but she hated the name and went by Dorothy. When she died, my grandmother found cash stuffed in nooks and crannies around her house and used it to buy me my first piano. I should probably start calling myself Dorothy too.