test pages.

my grand experiment of sewing my broken heart back together started in february 2008. i wasn’t looking for a relationship, no, but i was looking to date. new men, big men, artsy men, tattooed men. the world was my man-oyster and i was going swimming. of course, i can look back at it this way now. in 2008 it all seemed like work. i was so comfortable being a pair, yet here i was teaching myself how to be singular again.

it felt like hard, overwhelming work until i locked eyes with a mid-20s, light haired man in a powder blue, untucked, slightly wrinkled dress shirt, jeans and brown loafers.

“i’m Laura,” i smiled, tossing my long blonde hair over my shoulder and extending my hand to shake his. i was at TSN to interview one of their assignment editors, and he was the just-above-the-bottom-of-the-totem-pole worker sent to fetch me.

“Ken is just finishing up a meeting, would you like a tour?” he asked.

i decided this was not the time to tell him how my dad had worked at the Scarborough campus for my entire childhood, and that between Christmas parties, take your kid to work days, and random weekends where he needed to go into the office, i had a great understanding of the twists and turns and expansive studios of the compound.

“sounds great.”

my 10-minute tour featured the endless grey hallways of cubicles and offices, and the bullpen of desks sitting below the SportsCentre studio. he proudly pointed to his desk in the middle of the chaos and exclaimed, “that’s mine.”

the tour ended at Ken’s office. “in case you needed anything else,” he said, pulling a business card from his pocket.

with one more hair toss, i accepted the card and turned my attention to Ken.

the interview with Ken was one of my best to-date. and while i am ridiculously proud of these moments, i know that’s not why you’re here. fast forward about an hour and a half, you’ll find me back in the parking lot, sitting in my subaru. i’ve exchanged my nude Nine West pointy pumps for flats and ditched my blazer in favour of bare arms.

still riding high on both the great interview and realization i remembered how to flirt, i pulled out my LG Chocolate slide phone and entered the number from the business card.

“hi, it’s Laura. i just wanted to thank you for your time today and the tour while Ken was occupied. it was a lot more fun than sitting in the lobby.”


i was taught at a young age that thank you notes were important, and often what set you out above the rest. i feel like dad would be proud of me, even if i had ulterior motives.

i threw my phone in the cup holder and started the long drive home in 401 rush hour traffic.

*beep beep* “what are you doing tomorrow night?”

i reached over and cranked the radio. she’s back, baby!

i’ve toyed with writing a memoir for years. this is a snippet. hope you enjoyed. 

read more of my story:
test pages, prologue.