White on, Kate!

It's award season! The play-offs for women. Finally, the couple months a year where the girls and I gather around the TV for the Golden Globes, SAG Awards, Grammys, and the big kahuna: the Oscars. The best part of course is the fashion.

Recently, I've really been feeling Kate Hudson's choices. Maybe she's been choosing white to make the public think of her as pure and virginal as she boffs Alex Rodriguez. But whatever the reason, it's working.

Golden Globes:
SAG Awards:

They both remind me of one Eva Mendes' dress from last year - the standout for me.

I can't wait for the big night(s) because I need the answers to the following questions:
- will Jennifer Aniston EVER put her hair up?
- will Drew Barrymore continue to think she's America's Sweetheart despite the mounting evidence that she is more America's Saccharine Annoyance?
- will my Oscar party dress give me a rash again? Or can I steer cilear from gold lame this time?
- will Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin be the best host match-up since...hmmmm

5 days til nominations come out!

Thoughts of a Crazy Girl with Insta-Crush

Don't you love those rare moments when you see/meet someone you actually like? The thoughts that race through my head are totally ridiculous.

The other night I was at College Street Bar with my boss; we were scouting out a band for some upcoming weddings. As we sat and sipped our Pinot Grigio, it turned into Beautiful Man night at the bar- I guess Sundays are good for that. Note to self.

So we're sitting, listening, gossiping, judging (as we do) and I noticed Beautiful Man: Exhibit 1 at the end of the bar. Sadly, all of these thoughts entered my mind at some point:
- Wow. Is he for real?
- I have to text SB - we are so coming here next weekend.
- Nice shirt - I like the sleeves rolled up, all casual-like. He doesn't care.
- Should I get some more wine? I like wine.
- He's taller than me!
- He's alone!
- Whatever happened to Sade?
- If this bitch behind me elbows me one more time....I sure hope I don't have to figure out how to finish this thought.
- I wonder if I could slyly take a picture. Hmmm. Too stalker? Yes.
- Uh, where'd he go?! Ok, there he is.
- Well-groomed, good dresser, chill, has rhythm, check, check, check.
- Oh no, what if he's gay?
- I'm going to text SB and tell her I think he might be gay.
- What if he thinks I'm with Rob? Why can't he act more gay? Maybe he should but his scarf back on. The hot pink shirt isn't enough.
- Ok, that's better.
- Wait, he's drinking a pint of beer. I'm pretty sure that means straight. I have never seen Rob drink beer. I don't think I've even heard him say 'beer'.
- He's looking over here. Smile. Uh uh, not too much!
- Why did I wear this? You know vests make you look like a lesbian! You know this!!!
- Oooh, I think that was a smile back. Although it's pretty dark in here.
- He's waving!!!
- Not at you...put your hand down. Talk to Rob.
- Sigh.
- Ok, but he's still alone, just making small talk, not making out with his girlfriend. Or boyfriend.
- What? Rob wants to go? Nooooooo. Ply him with more wine. Talk about his shoes, he loves that.
- Keep smiling.
- Fine, we'll go. Eye flirt, eye flirt. There you go. Take a mental picture - seriously, it's a guarantee you won't meet a man that beautiful for at least another couple months, more if you stay in Hamilton.
- One foot in front of the other, look over shoulder, looking at you! Ok, that's enough.
- Sigh.

Sold!!

I am a home owner!!! After looking for more than 6 months, I have purchased a house. It is old, full of character (i.e. needs some love), in a desirable pocket of a typical Hamilton neighbourhood (shut it Sammy.) and I expect that I will heart it very much.

I'm almost more excited about having an apartment than having a house. Moving out!! I have tenants in the upstairs apartment so instantly I have become a landlady. Yikes.In surveying my house, I have found the following features:

- stained glass windows, high baseboards, hardwood floors, French doors = all good

- ceiling fans = both disgusting

- orange linoleum kitchen floor = awful, unless they're due for a comeback

- green doors and porch accents = what were people thinking in the '40s?

- dead mouse

- low ceilings in basement = will surely result in at least two black eyes per month (watch for them)

- a bathroom mirror that only comes up to my clavicle = will surely develop back issues or an incredibly beautiful neck (watch for them)

- eggs thrown onto my back porch = it is only a matter of time before I become that crazy broom-wielding lady with curlers in my hair screaming at the rapscallions. Except my hair doesn't hold curls very well.

YAY!!

Sigh...

I got another haircut. And, much like the mullet of '01, I hate it. I have had only one good hair cut in my entire life...and of course it was the one no one noticed.

Random Stylists that I seem to gravitate toward, please pay attention:

- Stop digging the scissors into the back of my neck. If I bleed, it better be free.

- Quit asking me where I'm from. I'm not from Bosnia, Italy, or Nunavut. I'm from a faraway land called "I Really Need You To Shut The Hair Up."
- Do not pull my earring out of my ear and then not help me look for it.

- Leave my jugular alone.

- Stop wearing leg warmers.

and most importantly, never make me look like Ramona Quimby, Age 8 ever again.

The Return of Winnie

I am a chronic returner. Somehow, I think I return more than I buy and in most cases, I enjoy the refund more than the purchase. Yesterday, I reached a new level in my hobby: I returned 4 items I had bought last week and actually made money! How is that possible? I could now make my returning into a profitable side career.

I look at returning as a challenge. In the past I have successfully returned the following:
- one pair of running shoes that had been worn by sweaty boy in 2 basketball games (required dedicated cleaning that was in vain when salesgirl didn't even open the box)
- one toaster that I had bought at a garage sale - returned to the original retailer
- gum
- magazine subscriptions
- embarrassingly, a line of skin care products that I bought from an infomercial. Yes, they might have been from Cindy Crawford.

New Year's Eve...15 days later

I thought I would finally post about New Year's Eve. Everyone always hates on this night, but I really like it. I like how everyone in the world is doing the same thing at the same time (yeah, yeah, I know about time zones, shut up). Or if they're not counting down, they are at least aware that it is NYE. There is a buzz in the air.

Many of my past NYEs have been house parties, dinners, combinations of both and last year, New York City. I like whatever I end up doing to be special. It can't just turn out like any other night. Even if the difference is something small like champagne, it's has to be distinctive.

This year the Fab Four took to the clubs. I've never done the Toronto club thing for NYE so I was really looking forward to it. In hindsight, there was a reason why chosen club was so cheap to get in: rife with 19 year olds and unyielding bouncers. Just as I was organizing the kids to rush the doors, I was allowed in to get our tickets, the clock quickly ticking towards mindnight. Once I got our tickets, it was like trying to get a spot on one of the Titanic lifeboats. And the captain didn't take too kindly to my offer of anqitue pocket watch.

We did get in, ended up doing the countdown twice due to faulty clocks, stealthily ate and drank from drunk kids' VIP booths, watched said kids vomit on trays of cheese, narrowly missed numerous fights and, I think, danced a bit. I always have fun with my friends and I managed to get sufficiently tipsy, so I had a wonderful time.
The age old question: Labatt 50 given to me as a joke or $60 champagne that tastes just like the $13 bottle. The brand new answer: both.

Adventures in Real Estate

I've always been a homemaker. Just without a home. Of course I have my parents' home, but I've wanted my own place as far back as I can remember. I used to have full-on dinner parties and pretend I was 30 when I was 18. My own towels, my own linen closet, my own dishes, everything to call mine. I'm sure it comes down to control, but I'm ok with that.

So, since July I have been househunting, with the invaluable assistance from my Dad, for that perfect (or close to it) little place where I can organize the coats in the hall closet to all face the same way. Yes, I would do that and no, I don't expect you to notice. Although I expect 2 people in particular to come over and mess it up.

Over the past six months, I have seen the good (and therefore out of my price range), the bad (full of sketchy cokehead tenants) and the moldy. I want a duplex or triplex that I can rent out in a neighbourhood that doesn't make me lock my doors as I drive down the street.

It's been an eye-opening experience. It's qutie strange to walk into someone's home and judge where and how they live. Sure, I'm considering the baseboards and plumbing as well, but I definitely check out their bookcases and raise my eyebrows at their wall colour choices. And seriously, what was up with that guy owning 4 Celine cds? Even I don't own that many. Ahem.

There have been weird cat ladies - 3 cats which I ended up chasing down the street, pothead teenagers who I think thought we were cops, many baby mommas and a kindly nurse who plugged her fridge into her stove. It's humbling to see how people live. We saw a five-plex on Herkimer that would blow your mind.

I've also been learning a little bit. I know that knob and tube wiring is a bad thing, but I'm not quite sure why. Also, I...well actually that might be all I've retained.

The search continues, but whenever I see a place with potential I am already envisioning paint colours, furniture placement and how to fold the sheet sets in the linen closet. I'm dying to do that grocery trip where I buy all the essentials one needs to open a kitchen. Can't wait to buy 3 types of mustard and Diana sauce that I will never use.

Cool

I don't have cable. I have never had cable. So, when everyone was talking about the latest OLP music video in ninth grade, I had no clue. But I could definitely tell you everything that happened in the latest Sweet Valley High book. Unless ninth grade is too old to be reading those. So, when I finally get to see a video I like, I stick with it.

My favourite video of all time is "Cool" by Gwen Stefani. ALL time. It is phenomenal. Visually stunning, so romantic, whimsical and takes my breath away every time I watch it. It's just beautiful. Plus the song is pretty great as well. Really, it's the dream. The ideal way to be with a past love.

I adore everything about this video. Enjoy.

I've been Snuggified

I think it would be safe to presume that at least 65% of Canadians either gave or received The Snuggie this Christmas. You all know what it is from the brilliant infomercials. I obviously looked at them with disdain since they are so, so ugly. However, like Michelle, I recently got into one.

They are magical. I don't know how they do it, but The Snuggie put me out instantly. Maybe it's the fleece. Or all the blue. Or, actually it could be the copious amounts of cheese I had consumed, but as soon as I put my arms through the extremely convenient sleeves, I conked out. Cheese coma? Or successful Snuggie experience?

Long live The Snuggie!!


**Yes, as you may have realized, I have figured out how to embed links. Look out Internet!**

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.

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.

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:

Randomness

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.
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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!?"
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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.
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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?
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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.

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

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.

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!

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.