Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Pants' Public Enemy # 1

Ok, what the F? I split my second pair of pants in two months! What is up with my behind? There is no reason for this. This time the fabric casualty were my favourite sleeping pants - man pyjamas with card suits on them. Blah.

I think I just came up with my first New Year's Resolution: stop being a fat ass.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Touching the Torch

On a patriotism scale from 1 to 10 (1 being American and 10 being someone with a Canadian maple leaf tattooed on their body) I would say I am a 5. Ish.

I stand for anthems, sing out loud, vote, and feel proud and priviliged to live in this country when I think about it.

Ordinarily, I don't get very excited about the Olympics. But, now that I hear they're coming to Canada - Vancouver, is it? - I'm actually a bit interested. I agree with Kevin, who says he's glad the world will get to see our beautiful country and I am more inclined to tune in since it's on our soil.

So, yesterday I was thinking about the Olympic torch and how it is making its way from coast to coast. I was pretty dejected when I realized I had been too forgetful and/or lazy to find out when it would be in town and go be a part of it.

I told this to Kevin and Jim last night while eating dinner at The Rousseau House in Ancaster. No less than 10 minutes later, an Olympic torch runner, complete with white track suit and all, came into the restaurant holding the aforementioned torch!

It was pretty exhilirating and I got to have my little moment with the Canadian spirit.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Christmas Confusion

I like Christmas. I wish I had more time to do Christmas right, but I always enjoy it when it arrives. There are a few things that I don't understand though.

- Why do people hire designers to decorate their homes and trim their trees?
Isn't the whole point of this to be a family tradition and something to do together? I recently spent 5 hours in someone else's home decorating for them. They weren't even home. I was in charge of the tree. This just seems wrong. I was directed to decorate with a pattern - all the ornaments were the same colour. None were made of styrofoam or popcorn. Not a one was colourful or homemade or some weird "ornament" made from paperclips.

Many rich folks want their homes to be show-worthy, which they achieve by sucking out the chintz and kitsch. Their trees look like department store displays. Who wants that? I can appreciate when you're just starting out, it will take a while to amass unique ornaments, but there is something so cold about a perfect tree. I much prefer to walk into my home with that creepy Santa mask that my mom made at craft group (circa 1992) and see a tree trimmed with random ornaments that mean something. Or see those reindeer craft projects that my brother started, but didn't finish.
This year, my grandparents stopped by to help us and we put them in charge of the strings of beads. It's pretty amusing, but we wouldn't think of changing it. It's a memory now.
- Why do people send Christmas cards with just their signatures in them?
When so few people actually send mail at all throughout the year, everyone loves to get Christmas cards. But, when I open a card from a friend and see just their signature, I really want to throw it away. What's the point? Would it kill you to write something more personal? You're not my lawyer or dentist who sends out token cards - even he tells me to floss! You're my friend - say something! Is it that people are lazy? They've already done most of the hard work, thinking of a sentence or two should be a piece of fruitcake.

I send out cards every year and, yes, it can be tedious and I sometimes repeat things, but I would never send out a form signature card like that. Maybe I'm being too hard on people. Whatevs.

-Why don't people recognize Home Alone as one of the classic Christmas films? I haven't seen It's A Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street or even Lampoon all the way through, but I don't ever miss Home Alone. My friend Jessica and I used to recite every line. It's completely hilarious and has the following gems:
- Catherine O'Hara
- "Keep the change, ya filthy animal"
- Daniel Stern as the best bumbling crook
- "Jimmy, stop that boy!"

See it again for the first time:

Saturday, December 19, 2009


Select Dairy Queen stores are currently selling Christmas trees. Talk about a creative way to corner the winter market until people want Blizzards that come with a spoon again.
It is weird when a drive thru speaker asks me, "How are you?" instead of "What can I get for you?" I got a little flustered this morning and said, "Bacon." But wouldn't the answer to that question always be: "Uh, ....hungry!?"
I think it's time to make an admission. I own a Miley Cyrus t-shirt. Yes. It was $7 and I bought it while in the States - I was a victim of my surroundings. I'm wearing it right now, but I'm a little ashamed. However, not ashamed enough.
If a network is going to run an all day marathon of a particular show, wouldn't it be a smart idea to air all different episodes? Hello Tvtropolis?
I am dying to play the new Scrabble Slam or Slap or something like that. Hint for those who buy me presents. Although this would require that my brothers actually read my blog. Ahem. Anyway, the game is like that puzzle in the newspaper where you change one letter to change the word to get from, say, HERD to GAME. I don't actually know if this is possible, but the game looks fun. Plus the point is to slap the cards down fast and it reminds me of the card game War.

Monday, December 14, 2009

It Snow Problem..

After the sixth emergency vehicle flew past me on the highway this morning, I got a feeling that this would be a long commute. Two and a half hours later I arrived at work. Surly. And all this because there was a snow warning. A freaking warning!!! There was no snow to be seen but because the newscasters and radio deejays were alerting us to the impending doom that will surely be brought on by 5 cm of snow, everyone was freaking out.

Ok, people, yes, we live in Canada. It is cold here. We will get snow. Just because we saw the first November without snow since 1932 it does not mean we are exempt. It snowed last year. We got through it. Stop being such ninnies!!!

I hate snow as much as the next person - or at least driving in it or shovelling it, but even I suck it up. It's just a lot of fear mongering. Who benefits from getting everyone all riled up? It surely wasn't me on my commute or my new suede boots as they walked on litres of preparatory sidewalk salt.

Instead of freaking out and complaining, let's all agree to focus on the positives about snow.
1) the crunch under your feet
2) the fun that is brushing the snow off your car - so satisfying
3) how pretty it all looks when you're inside with grilled cheese and cocoa
4) how when you come home late at night and the whole street is even more silent because it's been muffled
5) that feeling when you step on snow but they the crust breaks away and your foot falls in

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The Quarter Life Crisis

I am having one. There is half of me that loves baking, homemaking, organizing, puttering, going to the library, cleaning and being quiet and alone. There is the other half that loves champagne, short skirts and stilettos, dancing like a maniac, staying out late, screaming, adventure and impulsive decisions.

This past weekend has been a study of my contradictions. Early on Saturday I had a nice lunch with a friend (sushi, natch) and then was far too pleased to buy matching shoe boxes and a saucepan that was on sale. Yeah. Fast forward 7 hours and I was crazy dancing at a fabulous party (with my fabulous gay friends, natch), swilling cocktails, jumping from soiree to soiree and begging to keep the party going at 3:30am.

I loved both parts of my day. I'm definitely at a point where I feel that I need to shake things up. Getting out of town is on my mind. Where? How? When? The organized, responsible part of me is unable to just jump up and fly away. But I'm currently not tied down to anything and this might be the right time to make a move.

It is always a struggle not to look at those around me and compare our situations. I know this is never a good plan, but sometimes I think that this isn't where I thought I'd be at 28. Others have babies, houses, husbands, steady jobs, pension plans, financial advisors.... I have none of these things.

How do I find that balance of the two mes? I want this and I want that. Do I try to have them both at the same time? Or one now and the other later?

Aargh. Ok, one thing at a time - I'm going to go eat the shortbread I just made. Yes, good plan.

How smart are you?

This was in the Globe a few weeks ago. See if you can figure it out.

Bob is in a bar, looking at Susan, who is looking at Pablo. Bob is married. Pablo is not. Is a married person looking at an unmarried person?

a) Yes
b) No
c) Cannot be determined

Apparently 80% of people choose the wrong answer because we are "cognitive misers" where we put as little mental effort into solving a problem as possible.

I got it wrong. Boo. But I blame it on a hangover.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

I think it's time...

After next weekend, I think I might officially call off the sushi extravaganza. I have eaten sushi 4 times on average for the last 3 weeks. It may be a bit much. As Katy warns, I could end up like Jeremy Piven. And not just a douchebag, but one sick cookie from all the mercury.

I'm a little OCD when it comes to food - only when it comes to food, people! It's like that one time in high school when I ate 24 grilled cheese sandwiches in a week. Or when I had a small cherry DQ sundae every other day for the entire summer of 1997.

When I find something I like, I stick with it. I can already tell that the next fad will be olives and triple cream cheese.

I wonder why I'm never addicted to healthy foods. Why no shots of flax seed oil every hour or bananas or whatever spelt is? Meh.

Lalalalalala Tonight!

It has been a long time since we have done it up right. Goodness knows, I've done it up wrong several times lately, but tonight I am hopeful. We have a good mix of people, an occasion to celebrate (the first annual Elopalooza) and a place to do it. I also picked up some champagne, Edam and tapenade - all I have to add is a slutty outfit and some "Yeah" by Usher and we're all set. I joke, Mom, I joke. I'll wear corduroy.

I love having those days when I am able to spend the entire day prepping for the night. Spa bubble bath, running errands to collect everything needed, multiple outfit skimming - it's the best type of indulgent day and to end it off with a crazy night with my friends...doesn't get much better.

I have been warned against the champagne. In fact, someone cruelly said I was a "doorstop" the last time I had the bubbly stuff. But this is the new MelMac. New priorities, new plans, new cocktails. I'm adding some orange juice this time. Aha!

Here's to a fabulous night where all the stars align - the perfect buzz, the smashing skirt, the well-placed cab and the wonderful friends who are even more wonderful after a few. Cheers!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

YOU wrote/sang this?!?

Don't you hate it when you love a song or a book but then get a look at the video or the book jacket and they don't match what was in your head?
I shamefully really like "Tik Tok" by Ke$ha. Yeah, that's a dollar sign. Then I found out she looks like this.Strung out, skanky, white. Nothing like what I thought she was. Bummer. And, you're right, Katy, who gives shout-outs to Diddy anymore? Is it 2000? No, Ke$ha, it is not.

Now I'm reading this book that I'm enjoying, but I caught a glimpse at the author's book jacket photo.
Um. Every joke or plot turn seems stupid now. The killer might as well be standing out in the woods like a weirdo. I think that symbol on his shirt might be from Magic: The Gathering.

It's breaks my heart...

I am not heartless. I just want to put that out there. In particular, there are two things that always make me sad when I see them. I didn't even know I cared about these things until I'm confronted with them and they always make me take a second to wallow in the sorrow I feel. It's very strange, but every time I am affected this way. Even if I see a movie or television show portraying these people/situations.

1) kids/teenagers being bullied by their peers

Ugh. Even just writing it and thinking about it makes me unhappy. It's strange, I don't even like kids and despite the seemingly obvious connection, I wasn't bullied as a child. Sure, I was called names and can no longer wear striped vests because of some mean comments, but I wasn't scarred. Mostly, in middle school I blended in. Or when I turned sideways I disappeared, so that helped. But seeing kids being picked on, bullied or emotionally abused really makes me want to cry. I feel extremely bad for them and sympathize/empathize (whichever one works here). While I write this I do remember being chased on the playground by some older boys who wanted to steal my bike and being so terrified. It's all coming back now. Maybe I was bullied as a child. Uh oh.

2) elderly people working menial jobs well beyond their retirement years

More often than I'd like I see elderly people working at the following places: Walmart, McDonalds, Tim Hortons, grocery stores...it breaks my heart. These people have worked their whole lives and deserve their time in the sun. I can't imagine that they work there because they want to (although I could be wrong - pah!) so they are put in this position due to their financial situation and that is so upsetting. Old people should be lawn bowling, dancing to fiddle music and meeting at the mall with their Golden Oldies gangs. To see them pushing a dozen shopping carts or serving me my donut is unfair. The only exception is when I see older people as school crossing guards. This seems okay and that they enjoy it.

Thursday, November 26, 2009


How does water expire? We have several cases of Evian left from Fashion Week, but we are now forbidden to drink it as the expiry date has passed. Are you kidding me? I once ate a piece of pie off the floor. And washed it down with a dented can of Pepsi. Bring it, Evian.
On my recent morning drives through downtown Hamilton, I have been seeing more and more prostitutes out and about. All before 8:30am. In their fishnets, fake fur coats, makeup from last week and matted hair don'ts, they really do our city proud. At night is one thing (one sad, vile thing), but to see them in the morning....some of this 'ladies' really shouldn't ever been seen in the light.

Besides, who are the johns frequenting Emerald and Steven Street at this time? A disease before work to start the day off right?
Speaking of weird things happening at weird times of the day, since when do Tiger Cat tailgate parties start at 9am? Barbecues are blazing, Budweiser is swilled and people have already bought their big yellow foam fist. Don't games start at, like, 4pm? I would one day like to go to a tailgate party (although not in Hamilton, obviously) but there's no way I'm eating any hot dogs before the strike of noon. Ok, fine, maybe 11 if you have sauerkraut and the good mustard. Or if I happen to go to Ikea some morning. Mmmm, Ikea hot dogs...
Let's all agree to stop talking about H1N1. Please.

Raw Fish Madness

I am addicted to sushi. I can't get enough. So far, this week, I have had it 5 times and honestly, I wish I were eating sushi instead of writing now. There has been good sushi, excellent sushi, bad supermarket sushi, free sushi and sushi eaten secretly in an alleyway.

Eating sushi makes me feel that I'm doing something positive for my body. Rice, vegetables, fish - it seems all good. The only problem is that when an assorted tray arrives at my table or on the cement wall in the alley, I never really know what each piece is called. I can pretty much guess and I like them all, but I would like to know what to order, so I look less like an ignorant white girl. What is that one that has a bit of something crunchy in the middle? Sadly, I have put this question to the waitress this week.

What if they made a sushi roll (maki?) that included an even smaller roll?! Like when you put 2 mirrors facing each other and the image goes on forever. The Mirror Sushi Roll. I put this idea to someone over lunch and it blew his mind. Obviously.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

The Baby Event

The baby shower, it has come and gone and turned out pretty well, but I still feel it was not the party I had hoped to throw. But I suppose it means me having a baby to do it my way and I can't see that happening. Babies. There were babies there. This was not expected. Luckily, there were cocktails as well - there was no way I was throwing a baby shower without liquor. This particular baby was thrust into my arms a moment after the mother announced it had a dirty diaper. Seriously, it's a miracle I didn't drop it. Her, whatever. I think it's a her.
The cake. Turns out I cannot decorate cakes. Sure, I can bake them (usually), but as for making them look beautiful, forget it. I was panicking Saturday night trying to salvage this cake that was lopsided, dripping icing and covering in sprinkles I had thrown on. The sprinkles were a last-ditch attempt to masquerade the slanting...it all prompted a call to the guest of honour to ensure she has a sense of humour about her cake. Luckily, Susan is as sweet as pie (or cake) and was a doll about the whole thing.

This is the finished product. Yep. The group was divided down the middle, with all the mothers on one side and all the squeamish on the other. I learned about things I never want to repeat, especially Elo's traumatic tale that haunts my dreams.

Half the gifts that were unwrapped were completely foreign to me.
Overall, it was a successful afternoon and the mother-to-be got a lot of great things (at least I think those things are useful). Really, is there a more adorable pregnant woman than Susan?

Friday, November 20, 2009

You're driving me crazy!!!

Ok, seriously, I have had it up to here (you know, somewhere up there, above...things) with this new cell phone ban. As a frequent commuter, I use my car time to catch up with people that I don't want to waste my real time talking to. I joke, Naomi, I joke. Call ya later.

From Ford Drive to my driveway is valuable time for me. Now, I'm stuck with the radio and my own thoughts, both of which have been consumed by Lady Gaga lately. Hmm. My phone is so ancient that it is not Bluetooth equivalent. In fact, someone once joked that if I take a picture with my cell I have to take it into Black's for overnight developing. Har.

I am stuck surrepitiously trying to text or holding the phone in lap while yelling, which is pointless as there is no speakerphone feature. Depending on the traffic, it is often more efficient to mail someone a letter when I leave Toronto.

I'd like to know the specifics of this stupid "law". If I'm at a stop light, does that count? What about snail traffic? Or what if I hide the phone under my hair so the cop isn't quite sure?

And, above all, as if using my cell phone is more hazardous or distracting than any of the other things I do while driving. I am a multi-tasker to the core (in fact, right now I am both painting my toenails and judging you) so I don't let driving deter me from the tasks at hand.

Over the past 7 days, I have done the following while driving (Mom, please stop reading now):
- counted my Canadian Tire money stash - $27.50 And, yes, shut up, I collect this happily.
- driven entirely with my knees while eating a submarine sandwich with two hands
- switched gears with my elbow just to see if I could do it. I couldn't really.
- read 3 chapters of a book, ironically called "This Book Will Save Your Life"
- changed my shoes, earrings and shirt - I think my chin was in control of the wheel for a spell there

It is my feeling that before lawmakers created this rule all willy-nilly like, they should have required that drivers take a test to determine who requires the law and who is just all-around awesome. The parallel to parallel parking could be manoeuvering the drive-thru or doing the slalom through construction pylons. Just a suggestion.

Either way, they are only giving out warnings for the first three months, right?

Sunday, November 15, 2009

It's going to be an Egg-cellent day!

How could it not be when you encounter eggs like this? No manipulation was made to the yolks.

The Rub-down Breakdown

This past Friday, my boss treated Joanna and I to a spa afternoon at Hammam. Serenity, relaxation, zen - this is what we were promised. We all booked massages, robed up and drank cucumber water. What is the point of cucumber water, by the way? Why not chocolate flavoured water?

I've never really been a masssage person. My mother blames this on her not massaging me when I was a baby, thus ruining my spa experiences for life. I have been for one prior massage, also a gift and also unpleasant. But I put that behind me as I shimmied under the sheet.

During the 45 minutes I was on the table, the following thoughts entered my head at one point or another:

- Mmmm, sleepy...
- Why does it feel like my stomach has a pulse?
- Oh, okay, um....oww
- Is she knuckling my armpit?
- I wish there was a TV under this face thing.
- No, I can't relax. It's YOU that's making me tense.
- If my massage therapist was a man, would this be better?
- What was that she was touching me with? Elbow? Forehead?
- Seriously, stop it!
- Oh, okay, that's my ass.
- I wonder if they check out our underwear - mine's cool today.
- Stop it, stop it, stop it!
- Relax, Melissa, relax....
- Yes, she is definitely knuckling my armpit.
- When are we going to eat?
- It feels like she's massaging the grizzle on a chicken wing. But I think it's my leg.
- No thanks, my windpipe is fine, please stop squeezing it.
- Please make it STOP.

I think it is my lot in life to be tense. So what. I've dealt with it, 'therapist', you should too. Leave all the muscles alone. Please. Am I that abnormal? Do people really love this? And pay for it? I tried sheepishly admitting that the pressure was too much, but I think she thought she was rolling out pastry.

The steam room was really fun, except that the towel they give you to sit beside your boss in, is smaller than the amount of skin you want to show to said boss. It felt like I had done a massive workout. Scratch that - no workout would ever do that. Nor would I ever do a massive workout.

We topped the day off with cocktails at the Spoke Club, which I had never been to before, since I'm not a member. Really like exclusive places. Mostly, just because they're exclusive. Yeah, I know.

Overall, great day, and I must say that my knuckled armpit does feel quite relaxed and loose.

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Raising the bar

I popped my bar mitzvah cherry (such a bad sentence on so many levels). As an event planner, the suburban trifecta is weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs and ruby anniversaries. Or some other third one.

Last weekend was my first bar mitzvah. It was quite an eye-opening experience. There are so many rules. So many! And this was my first time in a synagogue. Was I even allowed to wear jeans in there? Make-up? Hip flask?

I got a brief overview of the yays and nays and had to change my entire plan. Say goodbye to the bacon sandwich pressed between two pieces of ham. Au revoir to switching on a light - oh I was in the dark alright! Sayonara to drinking my latte on the meat side of the kitchen. The ovens had to be left on all night as they were not permitted to turn them on the day of the event.

We weren't allowed to bring anything in or out after sundown and no, we didn't not smuggle last minute items in under our shirts. No. We did not.

Grape products made by non-Jews may not be consumed. What? I'll admit I left very curious and planned on learning more. I'll get around to it, just after I finish my kebab wrapped in cheese. Mmm.

3am self-reflection

Some nights are just a waste of make-up. Seriously, this weekend has been a disaster. I had such great intentions for this weekend and each night I've ended up staring at myself in the mirror, thinking, "Wha-? How did you get here? What kind of life is this? You're too old for this."

I'm making changes.

For reals, yo.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Message for You

Waking up the next morning after a regrettable action is a surefire way to ruin a blissful weekend. I've felt sick to my stomach all morning and for something so stupid. I can't even figure out why I did something to derail a perfectly wonderful night. It was ridiculous, hurtful, a waste of everything and above all, so pointless. Pointless. Why?? I'll blame wine, but I know I have a problem just walking away.

I feel awful about it and wish there was a way to go back in time. I never want to treat you that way.

Hallowe'en 2009

Hallowe'en is always a good time. I've had some fun in past years:
- Hula dancer with authentic grass skirt from Hawaii
- Librarian (yeah, yeah, I know - it was super last minute, but at least it was honest)
- Geisha (Japanese girl with the biggest eyes ever)
- Ballerina with non-authentic tulle skirt that I stapled myself

This year, on the stiletto heels of Fashion Week, Hallowe'en crept on me and I had no time to find a costume. So, I rummaged in the attic and wore my mother's actual cheerleading uniform from high school. It was the best costume for the club and the inevitable walk home as there are never any cabs on Hallowe'en - sweater and sneakers.

I like to think the "C" stands for cute. Or cocktail.

The most notable of my group had to be Paul. Dressed as Beyonce from the Single Ladies video or Justin Timberlake from the spoof, he was man enough to wear all spandex.

Love how he's wearing control top pantyhose. Naturally, we had to plan our walk home so it wouldn't include the village.

LG Fashion Week Snapshot #5

Sadly, this was the most and best sleep I had all week. On the floor. Up against garbage. With a free t-shirt over my eyes.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

3 crummy things, 1 day

There are 3 places no one wants to be.

1) sleeping next to an obese and angry racoon with only a thin piece of drywall between you

This happened the other night as I was awoken by this critter in the new edition of my bedroom. He had climbed up (on the ladder?!?) and then got up into the attic. After a satisfying meal of camping crackers and macaroni from school projects he decided to rub and butt up against my 'wall' and scare the crap out of me. We were all up with flashlights, video cameras, and bleary-eyed glares. He wasn't going anywhere, so there was no sleep that night.

2) on the side of the highway with a flat tire

Driving up the 403 to Ancaster, I had that uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Turns out, getting a flat tire is just like they say about meeting The One, you just know. I wobbled over to the side of the road, considered changing it myself (Yes, I know how to do that. Probably.), then called CAA.

As I waited, I was surprisingly calm - usually I would be so annoyed at being late and inconvenienced. I've mellowed. However, I did feel slightly jealous as I watched hundreds of cars fly by me. They're all so smug with their fully inflated tires, driving without a care in the world! While I sit here, cold, deflated and dejected - makes me sick. I still wore my seatbelt because I think I saw that news story about people hitting breakdowns - thought it couldn't hurt. Every time a truck with tow lights came around the corner, I got so excited that it was my roadside saviour. But, nope. Turns out it's just some jacka** driving a huge truck - he's probably eating pork rinds and headed to the Monster Truck Jam.

3) in Party Packagers or any costume store 2 days before Hallowe'en

This also happened the same day and really, there are no further words needed. It was hell masquerading as a retail outlet.

Straighten up and fly right

Sometimes you get the chance to see something miraculous in the everyday. You might not even think it's that miraculous at the time, but then as time passes, it's the most beautiful part of your day.

I feel this way when I drive on the Skyway bridge into Burlington. I like to look up at the bridge beams overhead and there is something about it that always makes me smile.

I also feel this way when I catch a glimpse of a flock of birds flying in sync - it's phenomenal. I've not been able to see something as cool as the birds in this clip, but even to see them in a small flock is pretty cool.

Part of me wonders if this is how it goes down:

"Ok, listen up guys, this is what we're gonna do. We're gonna fly straight up, do a loop-de-loop, then a sharp dart to the left, then another loop, then another then land over there on that telephone wire. You got it? Keep it together this time! People will love it. Ok, here we go...."

LG Fashion Week Snapshot #4

Please take a moment and picture this:
- Day one of Fashion Week set-up
- King Street West - home of hipsters and people who ride bicycles as a fashion statement
- All the fashionistas draped in Balenciaga, Prada, and Dior. I am draped in set-up clothes which included old jeans. Apparently too old.

I am stepping out of the cube truck, probably with a chandelier in hand, when I hear a gut-wrenching tear. Yes, that's right, I ripped my jeans. But not just any sort of rip - the entire seat of my pants was gone. And let's just say I wasn't wearing the most full coverage of undergarments.

I instantly jerk upright, drop the chandelier and shield myself from the street and the windows of the onlooking fashionistas. I call my boss, mostly to make him laugh and tell him my predicament. He tells me he can already see me. He probably also heard the rip from inside. I am mortified and really unsure about what to do.
I've been told by a very reliable teacher source that this happens to everyone at least once in their life. Guaranteed. Have you had yours yet? I think I'm set.

What followed, was a flurry of phone calls that resulted in my dearest friend Tracy leaving me some replacement pants on the side of the road because I didn't even have time to go home. Making the call to get this favour was an interesting evaluation of my friends and who I knew wouldn't hesitate and others who I knew would make sure I knew it was a major inconvenience if they even agreed. It was really eye-opening - who I turned to in a mini crisis. But, I made the right call, because Tracy was a lifesaver!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

LG Fashion Week Snapshot #3

Attention interns, volunteers, security guards, PR girls: during Fashion Week and as long as I am wearing an All-Access pass, I will believe you are below me. I'm not quite sure it happened (although I have a feeling my ever present arrogance and my height had something to do with it) but I took a major power trip during the last few weeks. I took the power trip and had someone else carry my bags and flew first class.

To be fair (or something) we really did run that show there. Three Events were the queens of the tents, second only to Robin Kay and her "skinny minions". We knew what was going on, we knew who everyone was, we were allowed everywhere, our hands were in everything. Also, it was a very stressful week so we were always running around, frantic and breezing past people who were slowing us down. That included the above mentioned people.

If anyone dared to mistake us for a volunteer or someone who shouldn't be allowed in VVIP, the repercussions were enormous. I initially tried to be nice, but then I comfortably settled into the role of Bitchy Important Girl. Constantly on the Blackberry, always with a latte (usually brought to me by an intern), barking orders, makin' it happen - it was pretty fun. In my normal life, I don't get to play this role nearly as often as I'd like, so I ran with it.

LG Fashion Week Snapshot #2

I was working with Andy The-Anh, a Montreal designer with clothes so beautiful I would give up sugar to wear them. Or maybe bread, yeah, I'd probably give up bread. I indulged him and his team for several hours while we worked out his show. He was perfectly nice and really appreciative - much nicer than most.

After his show, which was jam-packed, I got the following text:

Dearest Melissa. Thank in a million for your help. Without you, my show would not have been a success. Thank you. I love you. Andy TA.

Totally made my day. Actually, I coasted on that text for several days. We are BFFs now. Natch.

LG Fashion Week Snapshot #1

L'Oreal had hair stylists and make-up artists on site all week to do touch-ups for the few people who didn't get all made up by their own team before they arrived. I was one of these people and looked so haggard by Tuesday that I sat down for a quick 10 minute refresh.

This is what they did to my hair - and this is after I furiously brushed it down. I looked like Farrah Fawcett's grandmother.

Ok, now that I look at the picture, it doesn't look that crazy, but trust me, it was ridiculous. Actually, my face looks worse than the hair in this picture. Huh.

Turkey Day

Thanksgiving is quickly becoming my favourite holiday of the year. No gift pressure, no crammed social schedule that doesn't allow for much enjoyment, no decorations required, and a great meal - what's not to love? Plus it's only one day and everyone still gets it off work.

The only thing that kind of bums me out is that my life is not like a television show. Each year I try to invite people who don't have anywhere to go so we can be like that episode of Friends where everyone eats together. I really love being a hostess and want people to join us on this holiday especially. It would make me feel good, but people either feel like they're intruding or just don't want to come for whatever reason. Bah.

This year, I undertook the task of preparing the meal for my family and friends. There were 12 of us including my brother who drove in from Quebec for the weekend, which was really great. Mom had agreed to take care of the turkey, stuffing and gravy, since this is my first Thanksgiving in the kitchen. I made all the trimmings. Obviously, all recipes were from Barefoot Contessa - my loyalty never wavers.

- Buttermilk Mashed Potatoes: turns out buttermilk is no big deal, they tasted like regular old potatoes, but required a carton of $6.99 dairy product.

- Gruyere and Fennel Potato Gratin: Amazing! My greatest accomplishment - so much flavour, bubbling cheese ($30 worth!) and fennel isn't as offensive or licorice-y as I thought it would be.

- Roasted Carrots: snore, but somehow I managed to burn them on the outside and have them still crunchy on the inside.

- Haricots Verts with Shallots: Yes, I'm being pretentious, they're green beans.
- Mashed Turnips with Crispy Shallots: Ok, seriously, the rutabaga is like Mother Nature's joke on all of us and our knives. Have you ever tried to "cook" these suckers? I might as well have tried to peel, cut and boil a rock. No, for real. They are exactly like 5 pin bowling balls. I hate them. HATE them. But they're so delicious - do they come in cans yet?

- Parmesan Roasted Asparagus: delicious, anything with cheese seemed to turn out well.

- Ginger Cookies: You don't like ginger. You don't. You might think you do until you bite into these cookies and chew on a Canada Dry nugget. Bad.

- Pumpkin Roulade with Mascarpone: so sweet and so amazing - anything that requires a dishtowel to bake it has got to be interesting.

Pear, Apple and Cranberry Cobbler: simple and delicious, but a little "meh".

My family was gracious enough to eat the burned carrots and the turnips that really didn't taste like Grandma's and compliment me afterwards. That's why I love cooking for family - it's not something I've done before for them so I get a similar reaction as whe I took my first step.

WMD or spot of tea?

I was driving down Dundas Street the other day and saw this. I am pretty convinced that is an arm to a spaceship or a weapon of mass destruction. Or a really large tea kettle. Either way, he can't be up to any good.


I can't foresee any situation at any point during the rest of my life where I would be required to buy shoelaces. Ever. Think about it. Just think.

I think that on my list of 100 Things That Make Me Happy, getting more than 20 Timbits in a 20 pack is a solid climber. I always count them as I eat them and sometimes I try to be extra friendly to the cashier so she throws in some more sour cream glazed.

I was in a grocery store a few weeks ago (back when I consumed a real meal that contained food from a once living organism) and saw egg nog in the dairy section. Egg nog! In October?! People, this is ridiculous. I can't stand the holidays being jammed down my throat when I haven't even bought my 50% off Hallowe'en candy yet! But the nog sure was delicious. So creamy...

Why are AM radio stations so static filled? I've been doing a lot of driving lately and because even I can't listen to that stupid Akon song more than 11 times in an afternoon, I've been tuning into talk radio. Plus it makes me feel smarter. Like when I watch the CBC. Not CBC, the CBC.

How are Nielsen ratings produced? How do they know how many people watched a certain show last night? How?!?

There is no fathomable way that the words "Thanks a lot" can be interpreted as nice. Try texting or emailing them - totally sarcastic and bitchy. Even try saying them out loud, as I just did, they still sound rude and insincere. Why is that?

Why are many of my Randomness bullets filled with questions? Is there really that much that I don't know? Huh? Well, is there?

Couple Query

What is with these couples who spend their time together at Walmart or Ikea on a Friday night? It is my belief that the women are dragging their men to accompany them while they do errands and pick out the most plush toilet paper. Am I the only one that thinks this is a sad state of affairs? I am all for spending time with the one you love, and I understand the joy of doing the mundane with your partner, but surely there must be something better to do as a couple on a Saturday night.

The men never look pleased to be there. Watching these couples is like seeing a walking snapshot of marital unhappiness. It makes me wince. Everyone in the whole world is so busy that it would seem to me that the little time a couple gets together should be spent where both parties are happy.

I really enjoy doing errands on my own. I get a sense of accomplishment and it's time for me to be alone. I would never (yes, I know I have the luxury of not being married when I say this) make my husband join me on a trip to Home Depot to buy new lightbulbs on a Saturday afternoon. Nor would I expect him to make me come with him to put gas in the car, or whatever he does. I feel like women (yes, again, I am generalizing) feel slighted by doing household errands that they want the husband to participate/be miserable as well.

I've been in a lot of Home Depots, Ikeas and Walmarts the past weeks and see it time and again, someone being dragged along. Why can't we compromise that I will go do this and you do that and we meet together when we can have fun? Am I wrong on this one? Have I just being seeing the wrong couples? Are there couples out there who walk through the aisles like they're in a commercial?

The return...

I have surfaced. The past several weeks have been the busiest of the year for me. LG Fashion Week in Toronto has completely monopolized my time. 19 hour days, meals from gas stations or Starbucks, stiletto mangled feet, sleeping on the floor, and the most vicious of catfights have filled my life.

But it is over now. For another season. I still have a really busy week in Hamilton, but I can finally breath a little easier and sleep a little longer. And more importantly, blog a little more often! Yes, dear readers, I know you have been going through a minor withdrawal. You know who you are.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Glee hee hee

Are you people watching Glee yet? You really ought to be. I hate to sound like TV Guide, but it really is the best new show on television. I don't have cable so I have very limited access to what the bunny ears will allow me to watch. I am blessed to get this show - it's hilarious, sharp, and every episode has at least 2 full blown song and dance numbers.

Don't let that scare you away - these 'kids' are so talented they give me goosebumps. A lot of the songs they do are current pop songs - there's something great about hearing Beyonce's "Single Ladies" sang by a bunch of high schoolers. I live for the song and dance parts and usually I'm turned off by that sort of thing.
No laugh track, Jane Lynch, very cute boys, and just the right amount of Celine Dion - what's not to love?

Saturday of Sweat and Strain

This past Saturday was Indirect Work Out Saturday. Everything I did ended up with me sweating and experiencing muscle pain the next day.

1) Helping lovely friends move from a house in Hamilton to an apartment in Toronto. I had romantic ideas of how this would be - it seemed like a movie scene or a rite of passage, helping someone move. Turns out: not that much fun! It didn't help that they moved into a place that looked like this:Stairs everywhere - stairs to get to stairs! However, their place is pretty retro-cute and in an absolutely fabulous location. I covet that neighbourhood. I'm looking forward to being that "friend from Hamilton we can't get rid of."

Sweat, blood, tears (no one saw, though) and strained muscles. And yes, people, my face was red - I was exerting more energy and effort than I have all month. And last month. Get over it.

2) Salsa dancing. Yeah. Everyone that I told about these plans wished me sincere luck...not a great sign. Salsa dancing isn't something I would normally do, but I'm a Yes Woman and I like the challenge. I wore a silk dress with a ruffle that I expected would do most of the work for me. Deep in the heart of Portugal-town at a place called Lula Lounge I met my peeps. I didn't know anyone except SB, but the men were actually professional dancers. One had actually been on Dancing with the Stars. Canada, I presume, but still.

It was like going to Havana in the 1960's - an actual supper club with raised tables and a centre dance floor. The type of place where you'd expect to find cigarette girls. And great mojitos. Didn't though, now that I think about it. Dinner was surpisingly unremarkable, but the wine went down nicely. Then there was the lesson. Me and my ruffle learned salsa, merengue, the cha-cha and some other dance that seemed pretty much like all 3 put together.

What happened after that lesson I can't really account for as it seems like I was in a dream sequence. I ended up dancing with the Wonderful Dancer to countless songs and it was an out-of-body experience. I was twirling all over the floor, shimmying, two-stepping, we even did that Saturday Night Fever move where you have your arm behind their head and then slide down. You know what I mean? It was phenomenal! I actually can't even believe it was me. I was just holding on for dear life and trying not to fall - it made such a difference having a great partner. I didn't need to know what to do, he just made it look great and so much fun. The ruffle didn't hurt either.

But again, lots of energy exerted. At one point I got that cramp you get after running down the block. I mean, not the block, down many more blocks than one. Many.
I love love loved the dancing so much I thought about getting into it, but the truth is I don't really care to learn, I just want to recreate that night and let someone else lead.

3) You actually thought I would divulge the final activity that could or could not have occured after 1am? Come on now.

Friday, October 2, 2009

Mad driving skillz, cubed.

I'm quite adept at driving the 16' cube truck. No, really. I do almost every week for work as we schlep chandeliers, sofas, floral arrangements etc. around town. There has only been one mishap (the other one doesn't count because no one saw it and we don't need sandwich boards anyway) over the year and half since I first got behind the wheel.

It was TIFF '08, I was rushing to the Swarovski opening to get these male models their tuxedos. In Yorkville. During rush hour. There was one of those orange diamond construction signs - maybe something like this:I pulled up beside it then for some reason jumped the curb and drove over it while dragging it alongside my truck. In front of a sidewalk patio - some people actually jumped up from their tables to avoid my path of destruction. Bit of an overreaction, don't you think ma'am? Once I realized what I was doing, there was nothing else to do but reverse to get off the curb and sign. That noise again, the stares, the pitiful expression on my face that I hoped said:

"Oooh, my God, I'm so sorry. This has never happened before. I'm so embarrassed, yet still fully capable, you need not worry. Eeee, sooorrry, you guys."

But coupled with the damage and the fact that I was wearing a cocktail dress and looked about 17, it probably said:

"Heee hee hee, I've never even driven before. Don't have my licence. Hahaheeha, but aren't I cute. You should all think I'm adorable and not care that some metals shards have just landed in your Cobb salad. Tee hee."

I originally started this post with the intention of writing about my truck driving experience today, but it turns out, I'm no longer in the mood. Happy trails.

Text like you MEAN it

Ok, seriously, what is up with everyone? Why so sensitive? Is it me? Do people not understand my humour? I recently went out with this guy a couple times and thought he seemed pretty cool. Tall, funny, the usual stuff. He wasn't as sarcastic as I would have liked but it's not like I had to explain my jokes to him or anything and in person he was good with the banter. After our second date, that was pretty baffling in a separate way, we texted a few times and I made what I thought was an innocent, yet relevant joke. Then nothing! Nothin'! He had asked me out before this joke and then nothing!

Apparently, according to the friends tribunal, his ego was bruised (he was the tender age of 35 - my ceiling) and/or he couldn't take the good-natured ribbing. I even tried to smooth things over and still nothin'. So, it turns out, not as cool as I originally thought. Are men babies? Am I meaner than I think I am. It's baffling.

The second text disaster I made was with this other guy (also over 35, interestingly) who was talking about getting new tires. He joked that his life has been reduced to tires and I replied something about how he wasn't a re-tread with me. Funny? Punny, at least? Well, I thought it was, but the response I got leads me to believe he wasn't impressed.

I'm concluding that it has to be the texts! It has to be! This communication medium is really not working for me. I'm managing to alienate and altogether turn away people I like. No one cares that I have perfect spelling and grammatical form in these texts. Or that I reply promptly. Or that I don't go overboard on emoticons. One joke or stupid pun and it's over. There is a great need for a sarcasm font or emoticon. Maybe one with this kind of face:

It may not be limited to texting, however. My mother recently said, "I'd wouldn't like to meet the girl who writes your blog. She's mean." I don't have the heart to tell her we're the same person.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Things Women Do

The baby shower.

Do men know what is going on at these affairs? I don't think they do. Do you know that we sit around in a circle on the couch and chairs from the dining room table while the mother-to-be opens her presents? Or that she will then pass them around the circle so we can all oooh and aaah at them? Every single one of them, including the breast pump.

Do you know that we drink punch out of teeny tiny cups so that you have to refill every other sip? We eat standard picnic fare including deviled eggs, dips, dips and more dips and usually at least one Jell-o mould (or is it mold? I never know this one.) Sometimes, if we're lucky, we'll get tea sandwiches with the crusts cut off. But they'll be cut into teeny tiny triangles. What? Is no one else starving!?

But there will always be cake, ideally the good stuff with the really thick icing that looks like lard. There will be no alcohol, because the mother can't, so no one can. Spiking the punch is usually frowned upon. So are cigarettes and male strippers.

There are horrendous games involving clothespins, unscrambling baby words and not being able to cross your legs. I've never understood this one - a room full of women wearing skirts should be crossing their legs! It's just decent. Even if you somehow win these games, the prizes will be bad and no one really gets that competitive to make it fun.

Of course, there is the hat the guest of honour must wear. I would bet the last piece of cake that men have no idea women make other women do this. Since each present unwrapped will surely have at least one curly ribbon in a pastel hue, a hat will be fashioned. It will consist of a paper plate and all the ribbons taped onto it - that's pretty much it. Then we will make the woman wear this. I am hosting a baby shower next month. Per request, it must include many of the things I have just mentioned. But, I will put my own touches to it so that although we may be playing games or sitting in a circle, it will be beautiful and actually fun....or close to it. I'm worried that I'm trying for the impossible, but I'll do my best.
I've spent all weekend on the invitations and being in the event business, I have a plethora of style at my disposal. I've already found table linens that exactly match the invitation print. I know, I sound like a Stepford. I don't even think I've ever been to a shower that had table linens at all. Get ready to be impressed. Baby.

Come on in, put your feet up...

Hit up the Ottawa Street Sale on Saturday and if you're still going to Locke Street for antiques, I'm sorry to have to tell you, but you're a sucker. Get with it - OS is the place to be. Even a major antique house moved from Locke - now called Antiques Unlocked....I appreciate puns like this.

Managed to score this stool for $5.00. That's right - five!. I got it all the way home before I realized that the top opens up for storage. Love the distressed brown leather mixed with the Studio 54 glitz.Talked a woman down to $20.00 for this piece, but really didn't make me as happy as getting the other one for $5.00. Plus the upholstery is embarrassing. Look, it's already falling apart. And there are no hidden storage features. It even has a wonky leg. You suck, lesser ottoman!
Now I feel sorta bad for the ottoman. I do like your pretty pattern!
Over the last few weeks I have amassed three ottomans. You might say I'm creating an empire....an Ottoman Empire, even. Well done if you could see that one coming. Also, well done to the 3am punner.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009


I've realized that I will often go weeks without a truly deep breath. One where I will focus on the air entering and exiting my lungs and taking a moment to pa--use. Is this healthy? I hear people proclaiming breathing to relieve stress, but I really don't have time for this.
What is a rutabaga? No really, what is it? I'll bet you don't know. No one does. Potato/turnip? Squash/pumpkin? Lampshade/Beet?
I've thought long and hard about this, and I can't think of a time when an ambulance would not have the siren on. Leaving the hospital/ambulance station place: siren on - rushing to save a life. Going to hospital with patient: siren on - rushing to get someone else to continue saving said life. Once they've dropped you off, don't they just stay there until the next call comes in? Or are they getting ambulance washes, going to drive-ins, coffee runs? What?
People are not allowed to have a headache on a date. I was meeting someone after a crazy day at work, and felt sorta faint with the headache blindness setting in. All I needed to quell the migraine was a massive glass of water - since about three days had passed without any. But if I ordered water once I got there, no-no. If I actually needed a Tylenol, no-no. Showing weakness on a first date is a huge liability. Suck it up and suffer. Or run to the bathroom and drink from the tap.
In other news, not being hungry on a first date is also dangerous. Even if I were a salad person, there is no way I would ever order greens (with the dressing on the side, please) on a date. So annoying. Be a man! Order the meat - eat it all - order dessert - drink up! Any little thing can be an excuse for a 'weirdo' stamp, or with women, a 'high-maintenance' stamp - even worse.
Ok, flies and insects really baffle me. How are they so resilient and impervious to something that would surely end my life if I were them? For example, if there is an ant walking on the sidewalk and I step down beside it, shouldn't this feel like a tremendous earthquake to them!?! Or if I bat them away with my hand, wouldn't that be like being hit by a train? Yesterday I aimed the blowdryer at one and nothing! Shouldn't that feel like a hurricane? How are they doing this?!?!

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Not quite the intended look...

Ok, I got dressed today and then had the overwhelming sense that I looked like Han Solo. Do I?

Monday, September 21, 2009

Zu Can't-Get-Me-To-Go-There-Again Bar

Sometimes, a Saturday night just doesn't turn out the way you thought it would. I had to strike 2 crystal chandeliers from a wedding for work. In Milton. At 1am. No one ever said event planning was glamourous. Well, certainly I haven't.

So, I decided to kill some time by shaking my tail feather with some friends at a birthday bash. It was being held at a club I had previously sworn off - Zu Bar. Have you been to this club - it's awful, but I fear I would have thought it was amazing when I was 20. Sigh.

I was tired, cold and cranky - really, the optimal mood for clubbing, but tried to make the best of it. During TIFF, I found this cool satin jacket that had been left behind (I like to think it was left behind by Jennifer Connelly or Megan Fox - just because). I claimed this jacket as my own and wore it Saturday night. In my hast to add another jacket to my obese closet, I neglected to recognize that the jacket was XS and I am not.

By the time we by-passed the line (yes!) it was cutting into the flesh of my arms and I definitely couldn't zip it up, lest I look like a pre-wrapped sausage unable to breathe. So, I pretended that I planned it that way and let out the sleeve zippers a little. The strap on my stilettos was hanging on by one leather strand and I had to walk gingerly to keep them on. What was I even doing out!?!

The crowd was awful - am I too old for this? Well, I'm definitely not douche-bag enough. I'm pretty sure I spent the 20 minutes we spent there eyeing everyone up and down then shaking my head. But I couldn't even cross my arms to signal my disgust because the sleeves would make me bleed! Every person in there must have had either an STD, a criminal record, a butterfly tattoo on their hip or a white shell necklace from Cancun circa 1997. So not my scene, even with my stupid jacket.

After we sufficiently felt too old, clothed and tall, we left. I happily got in my car, switched the last legs stilettos to coral loafers (my favourite, which I've just been informed should be retired - wha-?) and my favourite worn hoodie - emblazoned with "Librarians are the Shhhh!!!" on the back - big props to Kathleen for that gem.

I threw out the coat and merrily went on my way to Milton. So much happier, so much more dull. Meh, that's just the way it goes sometimes. And I'm okay with that.

For the record, and I mean it this time, I am never going to Zu Bar again. That is all.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Text Hell

How did people date before cell phones? The period of time between the initial exchange of numbers to the first date (if you get there) is rife with interpretation of text messages. No one actually calls anymore, we just rely on texts because we're too afraid of the instant reply that is required on the phone. With texts, we can take minutes, hours or annoyingly, days to respond properly.

Especially if you don't know the person well, each letter of the text message is pored over and analyzed. Usually with girlfriends and wine.

- Ok, so he doesn't use shortforms like 'ur' or 'r' = add 1 point
- he takes at least 30 minutes to respond = deduct 1 point per hour
- he uses 'lol' or 'haha' = deduct 1 point unless the comment would have been offensive without it and he needs to use it because you don't know each other's sense of humour yet
- he makes emoticons using letters and punctuation = meh

It's all so ridiculous and a colossal waste of time. Nevermind about the time that goes into composing a text response. I'm pretty certain my group of girlfriends are not the only people caught up in this craziness - I've been there while men go through the same thing.

I can spend an entire Seinfeld rerun composing the perfectly clever, flirty, interesting text with no spelling mistakes and still not be sure that he'll get it because you don't know each other yet. And then, I can simply write "Yo" to someone else and it's sure to be interpreted as funny, sexy and inviting. Argh. The Texting Days are so frustrating...

When will the madness end? As annoying as it is, I'm an eager participant. I get very excited when my phone trills and I use the texts as evidence in the case for or against this guy being a weirdo. And I'm certain he does the same thing to my texts. The problem is that I don't think my sense of humour or love of puns come across well in only 160 characters. It's the same reason I don't speed date - I don't think I come across as likable very quickly. I'm an acquired taste, like...hmmm, everything I'm thinking of is something I actually don't like. Forget the example.

Wouldn't it be great if everyone we like could see us in our best possible situation? With the correct amount of time that is required to get a full introduction to the true you? With drinks around? And flattering lighting?

Ok, this post has been a nice distraction, but why isn't he texting me back!?!

Saturday, September 19, 2009

TIFF 2009

Nikki Beach was at TIFF this year and we got the exclusive contract to do the decor for them at the Park Hyatt. NB is a lifestyle brand that hosts parties all over the world and it was their first time at TIFF. It was a major coup and the Park Hyatt rooftop is THE place for the celebs to hang out without all the paparazzi and screaming fans.

This is what we did: It was a colossal change - there was ugly green carpet and old-fashioned drapes and zero style before we got ahold of it. It was an enormous amount of work, but everyone was really happy.

Here is a partial list of the celebrities that were at 'our' party:
- Drew Barrymore
- Edward Norton
- Adam Brody
- Megan Fox
- George Clooney
- Prince
- an actual Prince
- President of Abu Dhabi (or something - I can't remember if AD actually has a prez)
- Jennifer Connelly
- Mena Suvari
- Michael Douglas
- Colin Farrell
- Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York

Here is a list of the celebrities that were actually there when I was there:
- Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York

Yeah. I guess I went on dull nights or I left too early - turns out it's sorta boring when you're not a somebody. Plus, I'm not a fan of the $19.50 glass of Pinot Grigio. Every night there were line-ups around the block to get in and it was ultra chi-chi and exclusive. Not quite sure how I got in, come to think of it. Apparently Galen Weston was made to wait in line - gasp!


I now officially walk too fast for automatic sliding doors. Today I actually hit my face on one. Seriously, would it hurt stores to account for people like me - or people who don't like to waste sunny days at Home Depot? Fast walking has become a handicap - I should get my own parking spot. One that is right on the curb so I don't have to waste any time turning off the car. Why are hazard lights called that anyway, there is nothing hazardous about gettin' stuff done!

I'm sure there are other contenders, but the dirtiest line in any song on the radio now has got to be from Pitbull's Hotel Room Service song:

I'm the plumber tonight
I'll check your pipes.
Oh, you the healthy type,
Well, here go some egg whites

There's something about it that makes me giggle/gasp every time I hear it - it's pretty hilariously cheeky. But I got a look at this Pitbull character while watching the video (gag) and he should be embarrassed. I thought he was going to be a fly black guy or something, but he looks like...well, just a major loser.

Was stuck behind a driver's ed car today and before I peeled away from the petrified 16 year old, I noticed the licence plate:


Ok, I'll give them that - it's funny. But I still think it is my responsibility as a driver to teach the newbies what it's like in the real world. Toughen 'em up, I say. Now, get out of my way.

Running into high school people in the real world, especially in your day's work can really throw you off. More often than not, it turns out that they are exactly the same. The kid who sat across from you in 5th grade and sprayed battery acid into his eye while poking it with a pen, is still pretty likely to run screaming out of a room. I guess this realization is what all you Facebookers get.


Major garage sale/antique show last weekend.

The Mohawk College United Way Garage Sale is always the highlight of my September. Well, that and my birthday. My friend Jen and I go every year and usually I leave with more Trivial Pursuit editions than I can carry. Here's what I picked up this year: (sorry, for the poor quality)
Turns out I'm now into collecting crystal decanters. I found three in one day and I actually think they're pretty cool. I just have to figure out a good way to figure out which is vodka.

Even though I promised I wouldn't buy any more trivia, especially since I no longer host, I couldn't resist one edition - it's pretty recent. Usually the questions I get from garage sale trivia centre around Clark Gable movies, the stuff people used to do before TV, radio plays and recent world leaders like Churchill, Roosevelt and Jesus.

After I picked up this globe, everyone that saw it kept commenting on it - it's a conversation piece before I even get it home. Plus, doesn't everyone want to know coastlines looked like before global warming? Of if Timbuktu actually exists? I have been looking for a picnic basket all summer and I came across many that day. It was like last year when every other booth had a foot bath. Seriously, why would someone buy that second hand?
The pink thing in the second picture came free with the basket. Or I snuck it in and didn't mention it. Whatever. Apparently it's a hot dog holder. But, it's Tupperware and as you know, my policy on Tupperware is: see it, buy it.

Ok, this was a totally weird purchase. We were down on the ground and Jen was rooting around Polly Pocket dolls and I thought, hmm, this is kinda funny - maybe I can make this work somehow in my bathroom. I'm pretty sure I'll end up giving it to Jen's daughter. Plus it's plastic - what was I thinking?
Obviously, these are my favourite item of the day. Mint condition, my size, never worn...how could I pass them up? I haven't been on them yet, because I'm a little afraid, but I think I'll give it a go tomorrow.
Frames...meh. But I'll paint them black and cool them up a bit.
I have never been to an antique show before but there is a huge one that happens twice a year in Dundas. I took my Dad's truck with the intention of filling it with treasures. There must have been at least 200 vendors and I meandered for over 3 hours. I kinda like saying I spent my Saturday 'antiquing' like a prideful yuppie. But it really seems like something only couples should do. Or old people. Or old couples. I got a few discounts because I was the young thing and people were so happy "the new generation is getting into it."

The things I picked up seemed really awesome in the bright sun while I was all hopped up on mahogany and the 1920s. Back in the harsh reality of my life, I'm not so sure. But I figure that it's my time to get cheap and ugly furniture. And I still maintain it's better that the latest at Leon's.

This piece I actually haggled for. It reminded me of an old desk my Dad had. I'll have to repaint it, but I liked the size and the little shelf that pulls out at the top. I pulled the "poor student" routine and the woman fired back with the "poor antique dealer" routine. Well played, Betsy.

I really liked how this seemed very 50s and I will put it in my kitchen. It's made of tin or some sort of metal and is vaguely yellow. I got this for a steal - $35. And yes, I bargained with them. Actually, I became pretty good at the haggle. I didn't pay the asking price for anything. Although I found that I really have no idea the value of things - I had a price in my head for this other table and when I asked it actually cost approximately 865 times more. Huh.

This really seemed very 50s cocktail bar to me. There is a space cut out on the top for ice and the black and gold appealed to me. I totally bashed it up when I drove it home (I didn't have enough foresight to bring any packing materials). Won't it look so great with my crystal booze decanters!!?
I got this woman to throw this ottman in for free. I mean, please. It's seen better days and I'm pretty sure it came from my grandma's living room circa 1983. Gotta love the vinyl and the top lifts up to store stuff in it - I imagine sewing kits or flasks of scotch.