To do list

I have a lot of things to get done over the next three weeks. I always have a lot of things to get done. I make to do list after to do list in an attempt to organize my life. This summer I even bought a super cute Kate Spade book of lists to encourage me. But honestly, to do lists are the worst. Oh yeah, sure, you get that initial rush of, “YEAH, look at me, I’ve got my life together!” Until you actually read over the list, then on comes the sinking feeling that you eventually need to do all of the things you have to do. So I decided to make a not scary to do list of things that I actually want to get done, for fun.


1. Sleep for at least 12 hours in one night. Can you imagine?

2. Eat the contents of the partially-consumed tub of PC Candy Cane Ice Cream currently in my freezer.

3. Feel no guilt for #2

4. Finish watching “Almost Famous” on Netflix. Because it’s pretty interesting so far and Kate Hudson is great.

5. Paint my nails.

6. Hang out with those friends I keep saying I’ll hang out with.

7. Make Christmas cards.

8. Online shop without restriction.

9. Snuggle with my cat. Never let go.

10. Bake Christmas treats for no one in particular, and give to anyone I run into, just because.

11. Marathon every Harry Potter movie, including extra footage.

12. Draw. Or paint. Or just make art in general.

13. Go home.


Why you shouldn’t hate the snow

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You can really tell I’m a Canadian, eh?

It’s easy to hate things. Really easy. It takes practically no effort at all: you just instantaneously decide, hey, I really don’t like this thing with a strong passion. But you know what? It’s more rewarding to love things.

Case in point: I love snow. A lot. I woke up on Monday morning way too early for my liking because I had to go to work, and just before I rolled over and snoozed for another ten minutes I saw it through a slit in my curtains: snow. I kid you not, I sat straight up and crawled across my bed to pull open my curtains, with my eyes practically falling out of my head. I’m not exaggerating; I was that happy. The trees and ground were covered in a light layer of beautiful, white snow. I had the biggest smile on my face all the way to school, and I was the happiest I’d ever been at work on a Monday morning. I had a great day.

A lot of people don’t like snow. It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s slippery. You have to shovel and scrape off your car. It’s easy to find fault in winter’s greatest byproduct, to be pessimistic and in a bad mood for five months. But that makes me wonder, why? The snow will still fall no matter your opinion on it. So why waste time and energy hating it, and love it instead?

Snow is beautiful, truly. When there is a fresh new fall of it and it manages to pile up on the thinnest of branches, making everything look fresh and clean. When you’re walking at dusk during a new snowfall and the world seems to go silent, except for the starchy crunch beneath your feet, because the flakes floating and landing create a serene noise-cancelling effect. It’s amazing. Plus, there’s the whole science side of it that I can’t eve begin to understand. But these tiny little crystal things fall down from the clouds and form piles of fluffy, crunchy white crystals? How cool is that.

Woah, okay, I just got real poetic for a moment.

My main point is that if you go through life hating things you can’t change (and really don’t need to change), you’re going to be a rather unhappy person. It can take effort to fall in love, but I guarantee you that based on the amazing mood I was in on Monday and am still in tonight, it’s worth the effort.

Now, the cold? Okay, I don’t mind so much if you complain about the cold. But that’s only because my furnace is broken so my house is resting at a toasty 12 degrees, but I’m trying not to complain too much. Applications are now being accepted for a cuddle buddy. Please submit your name and average temperature of body heat you produce.

The Massey Murder


Photo by Jim Smagata, © Theatre Erindale

I am in a play. About time, right?

Whenever I talk about this play to people who aren’t in my theatre program, I get a little frustrated that they don’t understand how big of a deal this is. It isn’t their fault; often I don’t even understand my own program. But I want them to understand that this is a really big deal.

This is a big deal because it isn’t the community theatre/high school play you may be familiar with. This is legit theatre, performed in a legit theatre, with some real legit costumes, set, props, and crew members. Plus it’s actually a required class in the program. So I am paying to do this show. I am a paying actor. Not to be confused with a paid actor. Point being, this is very real theatre.

It’s also a big deal because two months ago, this play didn’t even exist. The third year collective is a project in which my class takes a book and turns it into a play. With the approach we took, we didn’t write scenes and then stage them; we devised theatrical moments through improvisation and movement techniques, and then eventually wrote them down. We made this play. And that is pretty freaking cool.

You can read a description of this book, The Massey Murder by Charlotte Gray, anywhere on the internet, and you can research the historical event for days. So I won’t bore you with that. I’ll instead talk about what our play is about. It is about the portrayal of events through physical movements. It is about the exploration of ambiguity in telling history. Is it about expressing feeling as people and actors, and also creating feeling within an audience, by putting artistically impactful moments on stage. It is about coming together as a group of people to tell a story through our own points of view, and in turn coming amazingly close as a group of individuals.

It has been an incredible experience creating this play, because we were able to create it from next to nothing. I have always believed that art is about the process, not the end product, so this collective project has been so enjoyable for me. And because of that, it’s odd that we’re now performing it. Of course over the next two weeks we will continue to grow and discover and develop the show, but the time to just work and rework is over. But I am thrilled to present to our friends and family what we have been devising over the past two months, because I am so proud of my class for creating this piece of theatre.

Come see it. Because it’s “real dope” (direct quote from Charlotte Gray). November 13-23. BUY TICKETS.

Really, if you are available please do come see it. It would mean a lot to me. And if you sit stage left I may just call you a Jewish man.

Double sweats

Today, for the first time this year, I am wearing double sweats to school. And not even to my acting classes where I’m supposed to dress comfortably; no, I’m wearing double sweats to my university classes. And considering I am a fan of cute outfits and making an effort, you know it’s a rough day when.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the term “double sweats,” first of all I feel bad for you. To clarify: double sweats is when you wear both sweatpants and a sweatshirt at the same time. It is the epitome of comfort and liberation, but also the epitome of “the struggles are real.”

To my credit, my sweatpants and sweater are rather tighter fitting and pretty cute, and I am also wearing a cute leather jacket and infinity scarf to jazz it up. Though to my discredit, I’m also wearing Uggs.

Sometimes you just gotta do it, you know? You just have to say YOLO and hang the cute skirt back up in your closet. Sometimes wearing sweats can make you feel like a slob and put you in a worse, lazier mood. But I think in certain cases, wearing cozy clothes out in public all day can give you a comforting, swaddled feeling. Like you’re a happily wrapped burrito of polyester.

If you’re ever hesitant to wear sweatpants or a big sweatshirt to school or out in public, don’t be. You know why? No one cares. In fact, in university, half of the people around you are doing the same. It’s fun to express yourself through fashion and look nice, but some days, wearing double sweats can be rather therapeutic. I would personally recommend anything from the men’s section of H&M. They’ve got it together.

So you do you. I think that phrase should be a subtitle for this blog. Marecredi: your weekly dose of “you do you”.

Plus, I mean, I find boys who are working a nice pair of sweats look hella cute. Not to be shallow. It just had to be said.