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Backbeat, the word is on the street

Another one of my Weekly Scoop stories hit newsstands this week. It’s about Paris Hilton and how she’s, like, so totally over, you know? The issue is dated Feb. 6, 2006 and features the ever-present Brangelina on the cover. My story appears on page 44. There’s a preview on the website (lower left link: Get The Scoop Now!) but you need to buy the mag (you cheapies!) to read the whole deal.

The February issue of Vancouver View has also arrived, chock full of my oh-so-interesting advertorial content. Will post that stuff as soon as I get around to scanning it.

In other news, I went crazy yesterday and bought a plane ticket (actually, a number of plane tickets) to the UK and Europe. Will hostel it up in London – maybe for the last time, as I may be getting too old for beds that smell like old man armpit and/or ass. Will catch up with Miss Weezer (Steel Magnolias, not “Buddy Holly”) in Brighton. Will see Rome (finally). Will detour to the Smoke on the way home. Will most likely buy shoes. Will return poorer than before, but happy happy happy.

Jen

Photo by delfi de la Rua on Unsplash

P.S. 2018-05-25: This trip to Europe was the most spontaneous and expensive thing I’d ever done in my life. Darrell and I had just had yet another massive fight. I threatened him with a break up, but I didn’t know how to really get my point across when we were so enmeshed in our Vancouver life, in the same apartment, with the same friends, and financially tied to each other as well. I felt trapped. So I went online and booked a ticket to the last place I’d been truly happy (England). I wanted to see my friend Christy, who had been my regular pen pal since we’d met while on exchange together at Herstmonceux Castle in East Sussex in 2001. I think I needed a friend to confide to, but that everyone in my local area was too connected to Darrell. My supposed best friend in Toronto, Patty, was dating his own supposed best friend, and I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was used to confessing my secrets to Christy in my letters and it felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to disappear. I wanted … to be somewhere else. In retrospect, it was not a smart financial decision, and in the end, not a great emotional decision either, but off I went.