It’s September 2022, and I’m standing at the back of the Diving Bell Social Club, leaning up against the bar. The house lights have been dimmed, and the coloured stage lights flash with precise coordination, making for an ambiance that is at once intimate and exciting.

I went to the dentist last week, which shouldn't be something worth talking about, but here we are. It's notable first because I didn't want to go, and secondly because I was glad I did. Indulge me, Dear Reader, as I tell you all about it.

It feels like the flowers could bloom at any moment. I've had to dress for rain more often than snow in the past few weeks, and I heard the bravest gaggle of geese returning from southern climes. (They were followed by waves of less brave but still bold birds over the next few days.) We're in the hopeful in-between as we move from winter to spring, and the former already feels long gone.

A cool thing about doing interviews is that I have a record of things that might otherwise have been forgotten. The gems that get dropped casually, flashing briefly as universal truth before fading too quickly away. I came across one such quote recently, about how today's society drives to want success without practice. Reading it stopped me in my tracks.

It was love at first sight, but before I saw it with my own eyes, I admit I was skeptical. When I was first invited to a comedy show at Espace Joie de Vivre, my friend's description gave me pause: it's in a basement. BYOB. The entrance is in the alley. I wondered aloud if we were going to someone's apartment, and my plus one wondered if we would be trapped in a stuffy room with cigarette smokers. Thankfully, we were both entirely wrong.

When my gal pal recently moved back from Europe, she brought fresh eyes with her. It's not news to anyone that I love me a new perspective (yes, even when I disagree with it). I suppose the only way to tell this story is by first going back.

Performed at Agora de la danse, We All Fall Down Creations’ Dans Les Bras De Morphée is aimed at a young audience, and so I sat with Emery after the show to get his response to the vision and imaginative choreography by the brilliant Helen Simard.

Guys, it's been a year. I mean, literally. This is my 52nd McSweeney’s List. No weeks off, no backlogged pre-written articles. This has been the most dedicated writing practice I've ever had.

If you’ve been living through the past however long now, you might’ve felt that collectively, we’re in need of a good laugh. A little something to take the edge off, a thing to smile and chuckle at to forget momentarily where we are or what we’re doing, a moment of levity in the sea of almost constant turmoil that is the current moment.

Starting over is hard. While we can all get excited about a fresh start or new chapter, there's also the lingering feeling that we’re starting from zero.