The motto of 2025 is, “in this economy?!” Granted, when said jokingly, it never gets old (“I'm falling in love” “in this economy?”), but it keeps coming up non-ironically in more and more rooms, with a growing tone of desperation.

During a long, lazy, blazing-hot summer day on school break, a group of neighborhood kids and I were shuffled off to a local library’s community room for my first-ever improv workshop.

Carmina Berbari Daou is a Lebanese interdisciplinary artist and comedian and a staple of Montreal’s queer stand-up scene. You know her from Montreal Sketchfest, Montreal Fringe, Commicon, Ladyfest, the Minifest and the Bordel Comedie Club’s Gong Show.

This past Monday was Blue Monday, the most depressing-est day of the year. The mid-winter blah-day, the point in winter when even those without seasonal affective disorder start to feel the weight of the long winter.

When we're young, we fantasize about our futures. The younger we are, the fewer constraints we place on the potential of the Universe, and ourselves.

Docking my Bixi at the corner of St. Laurent and St. Catherine, I weave through the shiny new CIBL radio station and dodge the long line outside Club Soda. The air smells faintly of grilled meat and poutine from Pool Hall, and I jaywalk across the street toward the door of Café Cléopâtre.

Concepts come before the words for them are invented. Whether it's a new idea or a naturally occurring pattern freshly noticed, at first we find ourselves in the midst of klutzy explanations, wordy choruses of “it's kind of like…you know?”, with varying levels of hand gestures.

Hung with glowing neon spider webs and pink lighting bolts, Coup D’État sits patiently on the corner of Clark and Marie-Anne, waiting for clients and walk-ins.

“We're leaving hesitation in 2024,” Andrew told me by phone the other night. He was hyped, pumping me up to face the new year with my shoulders back, and my boots laced tight.

It's Christmas day, y’all! It's weird that as a society we only celebrate Christian holidays on a grand scale, so if you feel left out, I wish you whatever joys and feasts you prefer.