October 26th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
So, here’s the deelio. When it comes to lifestyle writing… I could either choose to be pretentious and act as though I know how to live, or simply admit that I’m doing my best to figure shit out as it comes, and openly (and publicly) share the absurd conclusions, après bruises. Perhaps I am exposed, but, as connection to others happens through total vulnerability, I don’t see that I have a choice
October 12th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
Earlier this week, as I bounced out of the SAQ with an exciting new purchase, a beautiful bottle of Dogajolo Tuscan wine, you could have snapped a very candid manga face. As a busy mother pulled him along by the arm, her three year old wobbled along behind her, legs slightly spread apart, holding on tightly, as thought for his life, to an open Ziploc bag... as a handful of cheerios shook around at the bottom, their fate drawing closer
September 21st, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
Aside from abusing Laïka’s espresso blend (not only by purchasing a bag of Italia from Café Union for my own machine at home, but also by indulging in way too many lattés over Dadbeer convo #32), ordering dippy-eggs with filtered coffee at Bagels Etc... and then shamelessly making my own a day later... and ending an afternoon of sobbing in Jeanne-Mance park (grieving childhood issues which have just recently been brought to light in therapy) by quietly sipping a beer at Reservoir and joking around in a fragile state of mind… These last couple weeks have really brought out the excesses of Rolly, my hungry pudgy Dalmatian puppy alter-ego
September 9th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
In the middle of nowhere, for no particular reason, with the most experienced partiers ever, by the water, with a beer and a beautiful sunset. Yep, Saturday was a hit
August 31st, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
Locking my front wheel to the frame, I left my black stallion by the door and stepped into the Nouveau Nouveau Palais. For all those who remember all nighter killer poutines: welcome to fancy-shack extraordinaire.
August 24th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
You know those days when the idea of public fornication tickles your fancy? When you are picked up at work for a booty call, and have found the perfect spot behind of an industrial building, walked through the bushes and…
August 18th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
Preoccupied, I slipped on my worn pink leopard slippers (as in pink with actual leopards on them, not pink leopard print), grabbed my laptop and closed the heavy door behind me. As I walked through the quiet streets of Outremont, I couldn’t help but think about the skype conversation I’d just had with Noah. Zen-ing out, stone walling and mirroring, I thought
August 12th, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
This is the story of my shameless bruises. Each one indented from a specific incident which has occurred over the last week. Yes, I’m clumsy. Yes, I bruise easily. No, I’m not being physically abused… (against my will). I've been compared to a graceful unicorn that turns into a clumsy fawn at the most improbable moments. I choose to think it’s endearing
August 3rd, 2012 | by Lara Binamé
Stretching out like a star fish, my limbs floating gently, weightless. Mid-wind, the lake cocoon brought me back to a silent and muffled womb. My hearing, water-logged… as the sun brought soft white light through closed lids. I was safe, alone, and infinity stretched out like a solemn promise. If this is what death feels like, I'll be just fine. That moment when inner peace becomes you. Then, landing about a foot away from me, leaping from the top of a ten foot cliff, Eli crashed into the water
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