Hey Leah...

Leah McLaren as Miss Rebecca Sharp (2002) detail, by Joanne Tod

Le-Leah, Leah! Le-Leah, Leah!
Here I go,
Back to sleep, and in my dreams, I’ll dream
With Leah, Leah, Le-ah!
--Roy Orbison

Jesus, where is Leah Mclaren? I miss my ladies all together in one place. The ones that are waiting for me every morning in the newspaper stand or the cafe, hell they're even at McDonald's! Anywhere you can get a Globe and Mail really, and sure the Globe is the nations paper, but Leah McLaren and Lynn Crosbie are my girls, and don't try and tell me different. They are the ultimate duo. Leah, more sexy, but Lynn so much more smart. Only a few pages separate them. We have breakfast together every Saturday, ok, sometimes it's dinner, and sometimes I even have to postpone until the next day, but it happens every week. And I know what you're saying, that I've already went on about my Globe babes, and it's true I have, but Leah is on holidays, and Saturday just isn't the same without her.

I hadn't made it home Friday night after drinking 3 bottles of wine with Frannie. And Saturday morning, as I sat there contemplating the fact that I had missed my ride to the coast where we were to drive as far as we could go West, bringing our party to the absolute edge, to sleep on the beaches and to run through fires under the stars; for no reason at all, except that it was the place where we had to stop because we could go no further. Thinking of what I had missed, I sat there shirtless on Frannie's balcony with a cigarette hanging out of my mouth and the Globe and Mail Frannie had delivered to her door every day in my hands. Their was a huge void in Section R. Who was there to take her place? That god awful column called Mommy Blogger written by Rebecca Ecklar wherein her most current contribution to the Globe's "Style" section she outlines different perfumes for babies? Or Jeannie Becker, who, as I sat there smoking in disgust while Frannie was getting ready to take me to breakfast proceeded to shamelessy plug some twit who set her up with a free corset that she jammed herself into for some function in Toronto?

Lynn, darling, you'll have to take care of me while Leah is gone for the summer, sunning with some brute no doubt. Just try and dumb things down a bit, you know it get's a bit tiresome having to re-read the last three paragraphs of Pop Rocks because I didn't quite get it.