Thursday, February 26, 2009

The dress speaks for itself. However....

My wonderful friend Jen hosted the most fabulous Academy Award party, complete with red carpet, Oscar statues and champagne fountain this past weekend. We were required to come dressed to impress. I interpreted that as "dress to blind" and "dress to strike envy in the hearts of 80s teenagers everywhere".

I had originally purchased a full lace dress complete with four tiers of ruffles. However, perhaps after consuming too much champagne the night before, I had decided that it was too awesome and potentially wearable to don for the party. So, I ventured into my mother's pageant wardrobe from two decades ago. My beautiful mother represented Canada in the Mrs. World Pageant in 1987. Yep, that's right. Sash, tiara and all.

The clothes that survived that era made for one hilarious fashion show. They also proved that, alas, my 29 year old mother had a much smaller waist than I have 27. After modelling all the flashiest gowns, I settled on this gold stunner. It was a delicate matter explaining to my mother that I needed the dress so I would be a shoo-in for Best/Worst Dressed.

I decided the best course of action and the way to adhere most closely to the party's theme was to come dressed as an actual Oscar statue.

After sitting in it for 4 hours, a small rash appeared on my chest and arms - a small price to pay for glamour.

Hamilton's Mardi Gras

A couple times each year Hamilton slides into a period of Joaquin Phoenix lunacy when "Roll Up The Rim" saunters into our claim to fame: Tim Horton's. The same thing happens when the No Frills Dollar Days occur. (Pop your blue collar, Hammertown!). Now, occasionally, during some sort of twilight zone of mountain bikes and 25 cent pudding cups, these two momentous events will coincide, sending Hamiltonians into a tailspin of frugality and soggy coffee cup rims.

Such is the case right now in our fair city.

Cars were lined up down the street to get into a No Frills this past weekend and although every Tim Horton's always has a line, people who don't normally drink coffee are ordering up. They're all convinced they will win the Toyota, the wads of cash or a sour cream glazed doughnut.

I'm not knocking bargains and the pursuit of them, believe me. My aunt once won a barbecue during Roll Up The Rim, which she wonderfully gave to us. And I enjoy any glazed confection as much as the next future diabetic, but it's gotten out of control.

All I wanted was to buy a head of Boston Bibb lettuce, at full price, and I ended up getting swept up in the bomb shelter stock-up mentality. I've never even eaten a Hot Pocket before, but I couldn't resist.

I left the store having spent $24.67 on an assortment of brightly coloured boxed items. I was at their mercy and I hate myself for it.

Oh, and I forgot the Bibb lettuce.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

The pressure of an email subject

I recently tried to email a guy I went to high school with. He was much more popular than I, despite being a year younger than me. Sad. He now lives in NYC and I was emailing him to suss out the situation there as moving to Manhattan is always in the back of my mind. I thought it was a harmless enough endeavor and that he might have some insight into jobs, apartments, pretzels, etc.

So, I constructed a carefully written email that didn't seem too lame and that didn't pretend that we were once friends (although I had once driven him home - a strange aberration in a non-existent relationship). Then I came to the subject line of the email.

I needed to write something that jogged his memory, indicated that he might actually 'know' me and tell him why I was writing. Basically, I needed something that would make him open the email. After clearly not enough time thinking about it, I came up with this:

Delta Secondary alum - questions about NYC

After I clicked 'Send' I realized this was almost the worst possible subject I could have chosen, short of "Enhance Your Manhood - Naturally" - which actually might have had a better chance of being read. Someone told me it sounds exactly like spam.

Needless to say, it has been a week and he has not written back.

Lessons learned....

Champagne should only be consumed in single glass servings twice a year...max.
Drinking an entire bottle within 60 minutes will cause the following to happen:
- you will convince yourself that singing karaoke to both Nelly Furtado and Captain and Tenille is a great idea
- you will do this in front of a room of strangers at a house party you have just arrived to
- you will spend the following 3 hours on the floor of someone's bathroom, rueing the day you allowed yourself to buy into the sampling of Two Oceans at the LCBO
- you will remember that the day you are rueing was actually only two hours ago
- your own mother will comment the following day: "Uh, look really rough" Whatever happened to "a face only a mother could love"?
- you will have to apologize to aforementioned house party host and promise never to return

I vow I will never see the bottom of an empty champagne bottle again. For the rest of the month.