The Importance of Napping


It has taken me nearly seven years of post-secondary education to fully grasp what it means to appreciate napping. It is no secret that I am an insomniac, meaning that I spend many nights awake in bed full of anxiety, full of anger or general angst, full of love or hate or anything really but full nonetheless and uncomfotable. If I get 4 hours of sleep (newly 4 as of Graduate school, before this term it was 5) hours of sleep I am a functioning human. Any less I need multiple cups of coffee to keep me going.

I’ve spent multiple afternoons, exhausted from lack of sleep and mental demands trying to nap. I’ve taken a graval, I’ve had little sleep numerous conseqcutive nights, but none of these exhausted moments resulting in naps. Maybe on the special time when I’d be commuting somewhere, or reading a particularly bland audiobook, but for the most part naps never enetered my life.

Not until about three months ago.

For example today I woke up from a cough-medication-induced slumber (due to this awful chest cold I’m battling) to read a heart-wrenching theories reading, attend a 2 hours free yoga workshop (whcih was essentially just grounding yoga work at the Drama Centre with friends), walking home, eating junk food and then settled into the longest of my theories readings…To which, half an hour into it, I drifted quietly to sleep. I woke up drooling on my sweatshirt and my playlist droning on some sad Joni Mitchell beauty that always plays when I read. My life, it seems, has turned into drifting off to readings about love, and drifting in to songs about love.

I could not be more grateful.

I no longer get angry when sleep visits me unexpectedly because otherwise it would probably never arrive at all. I welcome it, with open arms, and as long as my reading eventually gets done (I jumped up right after finishing the article to write this before starting the last of the readings due for next week so I could get everything out before inevitably screaming at my ipad as Richard Schechner tries to convince me that 9/11 was “art” and I’d be too angry to write about anything else) then I am fine with unexpected napping.

Especially on days like today where I have little structure binding me to anywhere outside of my bed. If I’m in a class, or running a rehearsal or on the subway–all placees lately where I’ve found myself drifting off and nustling into peaceful slumber, then it becomes an issue. I do not get angry when those driftings happenn though, I just have to work harder to prolong its presence until a more acceptable time.

~a foggy lullaby~

xx Jess

Thoughts While I Wait for the Chicken to Finish Cooking…

1. I’ve had like twenty amazing, meaningful conversations today that have made me angry and happy and grateful. I’m pretty lucky to have full days like that. Instead of complaining about not having this with the same person consistently I should be more grateful it happens at all.

2. This belini is kind of flat but also very delicious. Like a booze-y juice.

3. I need to remember to start looking for New Year’s outfits/makeup inspiration considering last year I was ready by this time. Can I re-wear the same dress? Can I try new makeup? Can I actually have something cool to do?

4. I am going to be waking up earlier than I have all semester this upcoming week to practise yoga and I am worried that I will give up halfway through because I will be too worn out from work. Any tips on motivation?

5. I need to make some time to go through my clothing and re-evaluate my outfits and stop buying things that I don’t need, and repurpose articles of clothing. This might be a handy thing to add to my Syllabus, because its essential to mental health.

8. My chicken SMELLS done but doesn’t LOOK done.

7. I wrote five poems this weekend. FIVE. I wrote FIVE POEMS THIS WEEKEND. I haven’t written poetry in months and then all of a sudden they just were there, existing, infront of me. So that’s cool. I would like it if this continued on happening, and if so, maybe I could share? Maybe by the end of the month? Maybe? Don’t hold me to this.

8. There is nothing like accepting the stress that you feel in your life as normal. That sounds strange, but when you lean into the stress instead of rejecting it and shaming it then everything becomes a little bit easier…it almost doesn’t become stress. Basically, just try not to worry all the time.

9. Who am I? I just re-read that above note and…man…Stop worrying? Seriously.

10. Chicken’s done.

xx Jess

Creating a Holiday Syllabus

Let me clarify, this syllabus is for myself.

I tend to do this any time that I have some time off of whatever I consider myself doing “full time” at the time. For example one summer I challenged myself to read 5 books of varying genres each month. Sometimes prescribing an overarching goal for myself leaves me very little room to enjoy my free time and relax. So I’ve decided to take my dedication to structure beyond that, and create a sylabus to follow during my almost-one-month Christmas break in December.

Let’s face it, when we have time off we tend to binge watch that tv show we were saving until after exams and eat too much and drink too much and spend time with the ones who matter to us. Trust me, there’s nothing wrong with that, but I have a running list of documentaries, books, novels, articles, essays, tv shows yes and people to spend time with, and not a ton of time void of school in the break to do all that I want. So I want to go through and find what’s the most important, and give myself something to do rather than “be bored” over the break.

While snuggling in the DVLB (best Waterloo coffee shop in the winter months, if you ask me) I will have a preloaded kindle book by Jessa Crispin amidst my pourover coffee and notebooks. I want to listen to podcasts for a reason that are interesting and thought provoking while baking Christmas cookies or Knuts and Bolts.

How do I go about choosing the things to focus on? Well friend, it has been a long 3 months of graduate school, long and exciting. There have been readings from tons of theorists and some of which have inspired me to look furhter and create projects or myself. So that’s where I start, I’ve given myself 3-ish projects to work towards for the new year that are outside of schoolwork and creation.

I am going to keep those to myself, but let’s just say the content that I need to work through consist of works from disabled theorists, sexual education laws in Canada, feminist poetry internationally, online coding and website development. Every day I write down a new book or poem to check out or buy, every day I make another note to watch or search for more articles about something else. Every day I take about ten minutes to research something new, lately it has beenn the nature of getting an abortion in Toronto (for research reason) and also the nature of the topic online in the construction of womanhood.

This kind of thing is important to me because I love to be challenged and engaged in things that I actually care about. This is the first term I’ve ever experienced this much inspiration to write but also engagement in the content of what I am learning. I do not care about everything I am reading or writing or talking about in my classwork, but every single thing I’ve read has led me to something interesting reflected back to me in my own work.

I am so grateful to this program for providing me with the opportunity to exist within my own theory for a full year. How lucky is that?

I have only just started constructing this document but if you’d like to follow along or are interested in what exactly I’m going to be looking at I’ll be updating my Google Docs over the next month leading up to my Holiday reading list.

And as always, I like your face.

xx Jess

Warmed Up to Toronto

I have never felt like this.
Okay, I have, when I was living in London. A lot of aspects of my graduate school experience so far has been similar to my semester in London: few friends but good ones nearby, late sleepless nights, a huge city to explore, limited courseload and independence. What is different right now is that I was not exactly the most excited to get to Toronto and explore…or live a life, which is what is different now.
I’m creating a life here.
It might not seem like it from the outside, but for me just going out to a show with friends on a Monday night contributes to my mental map of the city. It expands the places that I can go alone, and this was about the time during my London semester that I was doing just that: heading out on my own. I feel like I am actually living a life.
Despite having hundreds of pages of readings, and papers, and two jobs and responses and all kinds of school-wise commitments I have found myself remaining social, keeping up a relatively consistent social life (albeit with a very small group of people, like not even a group, like…very small) but a social life nonetheless, and there is something so exciting to me about waking up and having a schedule that is routine but also mine. I feel like I can go out and get groceries, and get my mail, and decide to go to a market or a bar late at night or order pizza at 3am on a Wednesday because I CAN.
This is my adult life.
I love my program, more than I’ve ever loved school before. I feel smart, and have fun reading and learning and having conversations with people. I love every workshop, or every event that I attend, I write lists of things to look up later or a reading list for Christmas (it is long and full of disability theory but it will be fascinating nonetheless) and I am extremely happy.
I am happy.
And I am creating work. I’ve been writing small notes or word documents or pages in notebooks, and now that I’ve finished my show and my time is about to open up marginally I bought myself a new notebook today explicitly for my own writing that I can bring to classes so when I need to write something down pertaining to a project I’m working on I can have a place for it.
I just feel….good again. It’s been a long, long long time coming for me to feel like I fit in somewhere.
And here it is friends: its right here.
I mention a lot that I don’t feel at home anywhere, or don’t have the feeling of HOME-ness like I did anywhere else but London…But I’m starting to really think there’s somewhere for me elsewhere, other than that beautiful damn city, and its turning into Toronto.
Toronto, my home, the city that I am thinking of changing my cellphone number for, looking for a home for a few years in the coming months, seeking out pathways and employment and networks. Maybe a yoga studio, maybe a book club, maybe an art gallery or makers club that’ll take me. There’s a place for me somewhere, no?
I’m not happy all day everyday. But I am happy everyday.
Xx Jess

Underwater, Again

When you submerge completely in water while swimming or in the bath you are accompanied by a muffled isolation and calm that is unique to this feeling alone. You are aware of the sounds and things going on above your head, in the real world, but there’s nothing but your immediate awareness, sometimes eyes shut, sometimes looking through the broken light in the water, and there, in your silence, you can find your own thoughts.

That’s how I feel at graduate school right now and I’ve been there for three days. There’s definitely things going on around me, but unless I am sitting right infront of it in my consciousness it is lost on me. Talk about losin the ability to multi-task–no, not even multi-task, multi-comprehend. I have my to-do list, and my ipod full of music and ooks, and beyond that I’m sort of drowning in my own, private thoughts.

And I sincerely hope that I can come above water again soon.

xx Jess

Living History

I scanned over an article this morning as Queen Elizabeth II has now surpassed the previously recorded oldest monarch and it reminded me that we are literally living history everyday. I guess we would be even if the monarchy didn’t exist (or if our media wasn’t obsessed with it, including the wee Princess Charlotte whom I am unapolegetically obsessed with) but it just seems to fascinating to me that hundreds of years from now people, history students in a classroom, will have purchased a textbook with dates like 2015 printed in them on a timeline and we will be nothing but mere legends.

And it reminds me, that even though not everything was recorded there were unrecorded imprints of history everywhere.

Someone who is quickly becoming one of the most interesting people to talk to in my life recently mentioned that walking through a graveyard and noticing the tombstones would be an interesting/enjoyable activity. I didn’t agree immediately, but after watching a youtube video this past weekend of a young family taking their TODDLER to a cemetery in the rain and carefully expressing how brilliant it was to reflect on the lives and personalities of those who were buried there had.

When it comes to living a life that is worth living, what is there to aim for? To be remembered? To make a lasting impression? To write the next Friends or XFiles? Or is it to be remembered by those who you have made an impact on? Or to be remembered at all?

I can confidently say that I will not be much in history books, maybe if they ever archive the internet (ha!) this blog will live on, or my facebook profile, or my Google searches , browser history….Is there any meaning in what we choose to write down in the history books? We remember what we want to remember, and in two hundred years, nine hundred years, we will be nothing but imprints.

So existing in a media-driven part of the world where history is being made before our eyes can make us–sorry, can make me think all kinds of things about my own life. Am I existing? Should I open my eyes more? Should I walk slower and notice the people on the street? “Smell the roses” as they say? I’m frequently plagued with the thought that there is no guarantee that I will live well into my mid-eighties, retired from a full-lived life with grandchildren visiting and bread baking and knitting with Coronation Street on the tv…but life is (impending doom of a cliche approaching) fleeting. It sickens me to say but it is so true.

I’m not sure how to end this, as I’d rather not give advice, so let’s just say that I will never be the Queen of England, and will definitely not invent some world-altering technology that will change billions of peoples’ lives. I can continue to passionately make an imprint, everywhere, and that’s my cure for a fleeting life.

xx Jess

Headphones in Two Ears…Finally

Dear, dear friends,

My it has been a while since I opened up this internet window…Should I apologize?  Should I beg for forgiveness?  I’ve been swamped (understatement) with work, work, rehearsals, work, and friends a bit.  Things have come and things have gone, things have changed, and in particular…I have changed.  Hi hey hello, its still me, Jess, but you might not recognize me.

My hair hasn’t changed.  I’m still somewhat short, somewhat swuishy, somewhat brunette little me.  I’m still heading off to my masters this fall, and still living in a studio apartment in Toronto, but there’s something sort of…shifted, inside of me.  It might have been work, it might’ve been the city rubbing off on me, but man there’s just a little bit off here.  Not off, that’s silly to say, I’m just a different version of me.  How do I know?  Its simple.

I’ve started wearing both headphones in my ears in the city.

Everywhere in the city.  On the subway?  Yep.  Down the streets in the dark?  Yes.  While in coffee shops in line?  Absolutely.  I was too worried before my two-week stint off at work, but now, while entering the extreme routine of rehearsals, running a company/festival, masters, work and a new social life I’ve found myself settling into Toronto.  And it feels right here right now, and its great, but still a bit…unsettling.

I want to take chances, and be honest, and be vibrant and fun and make mistakes and jump around the city in skirts and dresses and drink shots during happy hour and swear at the streetcars and spend hours in bookstores in the rain and drink more than thre coffees in one day and take the subways to the end of each line and lay on the glass floor in the CN tower and just….be. Just live.

I heard somewhere last night before sleeping that the best reveenge for anything and anyone is to live.  Just to live your life.  And in that  same moment they spoke about being hurt and the worst hurt is knowing that you have to live and experience the hurt…but its all about being alive.  I think there’s something about living that is so addictive, that is so motivational in a onderful, strange way.  I want to experience the minutes that are in my life, and not live a cliche but not live a nothing life either.  I feel like my life here in Toronto has become a SOMETHING life, and that, that my friends is amazing.

What a feeling.  Guys, I feel everything in such a great way in this moment.

I will be posting more regularly, more posts about my thoughts because while I’m busy the best thing I can share are the ways that I continue to actually live.  Here’s mine for today:  put both of your headphones in once in a while, put your soundtrack to your life, live.  Just live.

xx Jess

Current Location: Too Far From Any Coffee Shop

Hello friends! What a week and a half it has been since I last updated you all. Since moving in I’ve delivered a few theatre workshops, continued to plan a national program and drank copious amounts of ber and coffee. So far this summer has been quite enjoyable, but I have one bone to pick with my new place.

I have yet to discover its super cute, amazingly-cheap, hipster-driven coffee shop. There’s one on my way to work, but I can’t read the signs to see how much coffee is and I never get up early enough to be that girl asking for the first time, so I’ve got to wait.

This means my first coffee is after three subways and a bus when I arrive at work. Given its free, but still, girl needs a coffee a bit earlier than an hour after the commute on Toronto public transit.

Forever waiting until I’ve saved my pennies and banked enough time for me to go and pick out a keurig, but there is still the charm in a local coffee shop nearby first thing in the morning. Its the nuance of becoming a “regular” them knowing my order, “keep the change,” becoming a normal occurance. It’ll happen, its just waiting for it to come to me is taking a while.

Good coffe, albeit few and far between, can be worth the wait.

Until I find this perfect place nearby I guess I’ll have to survive off of free coffee at the CNIB. What a hard life to lead.

Until next time,

xx Jess

My Day In Photos: Moving Day

Hello my friends!  Welcome to my Moving Blog post!  Below are a bunch of photos describing my moving day.  Thanks to my parents and my lovely Grandpa who came and set me up, provided me with lots of goodies for the kitchen and some night lights to help me get around, and make it as comfortable as possible for me.  I am so grateful to them, and so happy and proud to be in my first solo apartment!  I’ve made it my own, and will slowly keep adding to it!











xx Jess


To the best of my knowledge I currently am the proud owner of two very different tumblr blogs.  Do you not know what a tumblr blog is?  Where have you been?  Clearly not sitting on the internet.  I spent hours in my first year of university not binge-watching netflix shows, not writing papers or doing readings (although both activities were prevelant in my life at the time) but scrolling mindlessly and mindfully through tumblr finding pictures that spoke to me, said something to me, and I frequent that blog often, but no longer post on it.  Interested?

It coincided with my 365 Blog I was writing at the time, where I wrote one blog post a day.  Its similar in title so if you are really interested and are so inclined to find it on your own feel free to do so.


Since then and since I stopped posting on my Whisper Happy blog, I have taken momentary hiatuses from tumblr.  I tend to turn to this website in times of complete and total dismay; when a tragedy happens in my family, another surgery, travel.  In England I spent hours on tumblr, and upon my return home, in the mind-bumning depression that accompanied me for the following months of homesickness to London and a tragedy, this blog found its way into my life:

And right now it seems as though Cosy Pockets might have a reutrn.  I am not depressed, but in transition, and it has seemed that tumblr plays a different role for everyone who uses it.  Usually people tend to use it similarly to Facebook, to post pictures and share things with an online community.


People use it to respond to current events and share eachother’s musings, which I love, but have never been a part of.

Lots of people use it for sexual content, not my style.

I like to create something pretty that I honestly return to all of the time.  I spend hours scrolling through my old reblogged pictures and smile, I did this this morning, and that’s why this post is here today.  I hope to create a new blog, although I think I have in the recent weeks, and if this is true, and it starts becoming active again, rest asssured that the link will appear somewhere on this written blog in due time.

Until then, enjoy my journals, my online, picture-oriented, curated by MOI journals, the generation is what we should be called, and if you agree then I’d love to see your blogs too.

My last note about tumblr is that everyone tends to have one and use it in different ways, yes, but once upon a time I used my tumblr as a love letter.  T whom?  Well, funny you mist ask, because there was a person in particular, and I do still believe that these tumblr blogs turn out to be a love letter to eachother of some kind, but in diferent lights now.  I think my lvoe letter is to the digital world and accessibility of emotions on the internet, to life, and to expression.


xx Jess

*All photos were found from my previous tumblr posts, I’m sure the credit is due, but a common thread on tumblr is finding the credit itself, so I apologise and give credit if these are your photos, they are beautiful, and I only use them because I myself cannot take photos such as these.  Also Audrey Hepburn wouldn’t pose for me, so you know…