I am a terrible journalist. Really. I never remember to take pictures or notes, and when I do, they are inconsistent and blurry. The notes and the pictures. I get too drunk at events to do any planning (note: there is no photographic or video evidence of which I’m aware that shows I did, in fact, accept my Feminist Porn Award on stage), and then I am horribly hungover and even worse at taking notes and pictures than I was before. But I do try. Below, I give you: evidence of trying, in Toronto.
Conflicted Exxistence