Author Archives: Judith Pettersen

Passion. Faith. Greed. Love. I sit in the Channing auditorium with my alto sisters, mentally echoing Jean Val Jean’s shout out to the universe. Who Am I? And why is my memory so dismal? I ignore the larger questions, of course. The ones the characters ponder during this three hour musical extravaganza. Though, like them, I wonder where it all went wrong. NotContinue reading “Les Miserables and Me, Confessions of an Alto”

When I was a kid, I thought about candy every day. If I found a dime in the street or collected a few empty pop bottles, I’d head to Johnny’s and peruse the merchandise. I knew what I liked. A crispy crunch bar. A small paper bag of mixed up penny candy. An orange crush soda, or a bagContinue reading “Strange Candy”

This is not an homage to the movie, which I refer to as the poor man’s Breaking Bad. I know about the great reviews and still don’t care. Since I’ve grown up, it just makes me recoil. I’m not sure if its the misogyny or the bad acting. But the soundtrack? One of the bestContinue reading “Easy Rider”

Life can be a little crazy. Sometimes a person needs to let off a little steam. Since drinking hurts my pancreas and chocolate keeps me up all night, I need to find other solutions. Like laughing. Being overcome with hysterical giggles makes me feel like a little kid. Maybe its the way it takes over my breathing. Laughter takes firm charge, lightening my load and leaving some perspective inContinue reading “The Art of Crying”

 I’ve learned a lot since I started this blog, some of it related to writing. This entry is dedicated to my work station. For the last two years, I’ve been walking on a treadmill while performing a multitude of writing related tasks. Using a table leaf that rests on the handles, I set the track speed for two miles per hour. ThisContinue reading “The Writer’s Apprentice and the Treadmill”

Writing another blog entry about the TV show is the psychological equivalent to holding hands with other viewers. It’s the connection I need to sustain me when the cast is struggling to survive. Which is always. Also, I get to list things that annoy me about other viewers while staying well out of reach. SensibleContinue reading “More Walking Dead (I know… I’m Sorry!)”

When I was a child, neighborhoods in Flin Flon commanded great loyalty from their smaller citizens. I grew up in East Birchview, and happily defended its honour against the slights of older, more established areas, like Willowvale. There was something almost gang-like in our devotion. Not like the Los Angeles Crips and Bloods, or the Jets and Sharks from West Side Story. We were more like the ‘naContinue reading “East Side Story”

Children who are not athletic usually take a while to discover that truth. Because when you’re young, anything seems possible. Flying is not out of the question. So why should playing ‘Steal the Flag,’ ‘Kick the Can,’ or baseball be so hard? For some of us, it really is. I’m genuinely clumsy. Ten years of ballet hasn’t helped much, either. WhenContinue reading “Non Athlete”

‘Stop all the clocks,’ says WH Auden in his poem, ‘Funeral Blues.’  ‘Cut off the telephone. Stop the dog from barking with a juicy bone. Silence the pianos and with muffled drum, bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.’  The first time I heard this verse, I hadn’t lost anyone, really. A few neighborsContinue reading “Knock Out Punch”

For someone who considers herself a writer, I have a hard time explaining things. One night at Zumba during a particularly tiring routine, I gasped the words, “I feel like I’m in a concentration camp hauling rocks, with no dinner in sight.” Since we were dancing to the theme song from, “Love, Actually,” I was asked to lighten up. But I wasn’t whining. I wasContinue reading “A Piece of My Mind”