Writing through the stress…usually in a unicorn onesie.
If you need to know one thing about me, it is this: I love my name. My name is boss. To be clear, my name isn’t actually “boss,” which would be weird. But it is boss as in the slang (that dates back to the 1880s!), meaning super hip and with it. Somebody should give my parents a medal or something for coming up with this spectacular moniker for their firstborn child.
My name is Lindsay Rae. Currently, I am standing over a garbage can in my unicorn onesie, eating a chicken leg and typing on my laptop with fingers…
Confessions from a country kid
I know what you’re thinking. WTH? Right? Well, hold on to your hats, kids, and let me tell you a tale of a young brother and sister duo.
Growing up, we lived on an acreage. My Dad worked on oil rigs up north and was gone for months at a time, leaving my mom, my brother, Dustin, and me at home to fend for ourselves. Mom didn’t work outside of the home because the chores and upkeep on the property kept her busy. …
The call I didn’t know I was making but regretted immediately.
Typically I am not the kind of person who embarrasses easily. I lay my life out for all the world to read. I’ve written tales from that one time I fell down a ski hill and lived to tell the story to that other time my brother gave me a golden shower.
These stories of life and love and all that is in between do not cause me unease because, at the heart of the thing, I believe it is stories like these that provide a glimpse into the beautiful humanity we all share.
Except for that one time, I dialed the school counselor with my sweaty ass.
The summer of 2020 was a…
Adventures in public indecency
Now, please don’t start judging me just yet. Of course, I think that to maintain a socially cooperative society, we, as adult human beings, probably shouldn’t go around exposing our genitalia (without warning) for the world to gaze upon with great wonder.
It would make for an uncomfortable day-to-day experience, especially with the number of creepers creepin’ around out there.
For who among us hasn’t been the victim of a drive-by mooning? Or worse yet, a drive by gonzo’ing? (If you don’t know what that is, for the love of god, DO NOT google it.)
Ahem. Never a fun time…
How the sitcom Seinfeld shaped me into the slightly evil human being I am today
I am ten years old and snuggled neatly between my mom and dad on our enormous sectional couch. The funky jazz beat of the opening credits roll, and there appears Jerry Seinfeld and the gang in all their glory, about to do absolutely nothing for a 22-minute episode.
Each episode of Seinfeld opened with Jerry’s standup, which was my favourite part of the show. Stand-up will always be my preferred choice of comedy. …
Adventures in babysitting
I was never much of a babysitter. Living on a farm in the middle of nowhere provided little opportunity to make money by looking after the nonexistent neighbour kids.
Maybe I could have procured a few gigs here or there from the friends of my parents who had small children, but this never seemed to get offered to me.
“There’s just something about that girl,” I imagine the adults in my life saying over their dinner time conversations. “She’s not quite evil, but definitely not the kind of kid we want to look after our little darlings.”
For, you see…
It’s true what they say; money really can’t buy you happiness.
For the first time in a very long time, I was able to buy a new pair of shoes and not feel guilty about it. I know what you’re thinking, oh please, not another story about the difficulties of being a part of the poor working class.
Well, I’m sorry, but it is what it is. We writers tend to talk about what’s on our minds, and for the past five years, having absolutely no disposable income has been a big part of my life.
When we opened our sandwich shop in 2016, we had the world by the small…
The time my life flashed before my eyes, and then I ate the best fish tacos in the world
We’re being abducted.
This is always my first thought when plans go even remotely off track.
We are being brought to a second location, thus creating a more challenging trail for the police to follow.
As my husband and I sat side by side in a non-air-conditioned, unmarked van, looking out onto the ever-thickening vegetation of the Mexican countryside, I silently said goodbye to my children back in Canada.
In 2015 Jamie’s boss brought us to the Hard Rock Hotel in the Riviera Maya. …
When did I become so citified?
I recently visited my rural hometown, and within seconds of stepping foot on the old stomping grounds, I was reminded of how much I’ve neglected my roots. Perhaps this fact wouldn’t have been so glaringly apparent if not for my family members constantly reminding me that I am no longer the country girl I once was.
Alas, these people I love have no qualms hinting at this fact and teasingly calling me a city slicker (basically the worst insult on the planet for those who grew up in the countryside).
Here are just a few times I was reminded that…
A story of love, friendship and TikToks
It is a difficult thing to be a dinosaur.
After a year-long stint of not leaving my house, I made the trek to my hometown to visit friends and family. What I was most worried about was not keeping up on my writing while away from home.
Luckily, thanks to some dumb luck on several of my former articles, I was able to purchase a shiny new laptop to use while away from my home computer. This, of course, wouldn’t guarantee the production of work, but at least it gave me the ability to try.
As I set out on…
Lindsay Rae Brown
Mother, writer, user of too many hashtags.
