Creampuff Revolution

Happy Creampuff Holidays!!

Happy Holidays!! I hope you all had and/or are still having a wild and woolly holiday season!

After all the fun and excitement of our big gay wedding, we opted to take it pretty easy this year by cuddling up in our apartment with our turkey and our dog and basically doing fuck all. We had a magnificent Christmas Eve dinner and a delightful, languorous, unexpectedly snowy Christmas Day. I have to say that we both missed the pleasure of being with our families, but not the stress of entertaining or being entertained or having to explain what happened to all the eggnog or why I smelled of eggnog or what I was going out to buy more of at the store or why I was having chest pains. Also, I'm sure Katr was okay skipping my family's yearly "Decoy Wrapping and Gift Tag Clues Six Hour Present Opening Extravaganza" (the more fool her, I say!).

Lest you think we're becoming agoraphobic hermits here in Vancouver, we did attend a seasonal social event on the 23rd, when we ventured all the way ACROSS THE HALL to our lovely neighbours' open house. It was very festive and there were plenty of other homos there and some shrimp!  We enjoyed ourselves, but left fairly early after being cornered and barked at endlessly by a well-meaning, close-talking, very deaf older gentleman. Later on, when I took the dog out, I heard "Welcome to the Jungle" being blasted and a lot of whooping noises. Maybe our neighbours are swingers.

The "keep it simple" theme extended to gifts this year - while we both enjoyed the Amazonian bounty of family and friends, we each only got each other one thing.  Because I like to rub baked goods all over me, Katr got me a wide selection of delicious shower gels and lip glosses from philosophy. Mmmm.

I have been huffing them all for days. DAYS.  Fortunately, Katr hasn't noticed my new addiction, because I got her a Nabaztag.

I don't know what kind of dirty things she's getting up to with that Wi-Fi enabled rabbit. Sometimes, I hear it whimpering.

Emmy got a new treat as well. She discovered turkey.

Their love affair is ardent and touching.

She also got a couple of actual gifts - as Jeba's hilarious Christmas card predicted:

they did indeed squeak. Her new toy Dino has afforded us hours of enjoyment. HOURS.

 

As I sit here, contemplating my next turkey sandwich, it occurs to me that there are just a few days of December left - did you know? So little time to decide on my resolutions for the new year! Will 2008 be the year I finally get my driver's license? Or should I focus all my energy on my luge training for the 2010 Olympics? History will decide.

Ooo - for all those who are avidly interested, we've (Katr has) put together a post-wedding wrap-up blog over at www.kateandrose.com! If you were there, go relive the fun! And if you weren't, you can check out the ceremony and vows (nothing too cringe-worthy, I promise) and lots of other stuff. We're still working on it (particularly the thank-you page!) but we needed somewhere to put all of our tips and advice for the gay brides of the future. Because we're never doing that again.

No Molestar the Creampuffs

Oh the weather outside is frightful

But our honeymoon photos are delightful

And since we've no place to go, because I already walked the dog to a fabled dog park far away in the driving rain and ended up muddied from ankle to thigh

Let's make with the posting already

The morning after our big gay wedding, Katr and I left our patient and wonderful friends to look after the last few post-wedding errands in Toronto while we took off for our big gay two-week honeymoon at the Excellence Riviera Cancun. We'd had about two hours sleep and Katr still had a head full of bobby pins from her princess hair-do the night before. We barely made it through security. But soon we were winging our way to paradise! Sweet, boozy paradise.

We were worried that, because we're homos, we'd have to fight to get all the honeymoon perks the resort promises newlyweds, but we were thrilled to find the honeymoon banner on our door and the champagne chilling and the lurve swans on the bed when we arrived. Because nothing says hot, sweaty love like swans made of towels. Jealous?

For the first few days, we barely left the room and kept the "No Molestar" sign on the day to discourage housekeeping from molestaring us. I'm sure, between the honeymoon banner and the constant "No Molestar" sign, everyone thought we were doing dirty things in there. They were right - we were doing the hottest thing you can do on your honeymoon. SLEEPING. FOR REAL. We were so effing tired it took us two days to even notice the view from our swim-out suite:

This is the pool our suite was on. We were sad at first that "our" pool did not boast a swim-up bar. That's before we ventured into the strangely murky pool which did have the swim-up bar, where frat boys would do 15 shots of tequila and then hunker down in a corner with their creepily billowing trunks to whiz in the pool. We did not return to the swim-up bar.

The beach - salty!

On our day trip to Xel-ha, you could molestar the dolphins for $150 USD. We snorkeled instead.

At Xel-ha, you can molestar the lizards for free.

"Where's the ladies shitter?" "I don't think they call it that in Mexico. Look for shitter mujeres."

On the same day trip, we went to the magnificant Mayan ruins at Tulum. I refused to follow our tour group because I'm a rebel! Plus I knew they wouldn't let me re-enact key scenes from Apocalypto with so many tourists around.

Katr scored by finding the part of the ruins where the Mayans sat down.

I got in the way of my own pictures. Why does it look like someone threw a glass of milk on my face? Biodegradable sunscreen. Am I turning you on?

How about now?

Almost every night at the resort, they had some kind of entertainment. It was usually nubile young Mexicans dancing in skimpy outfits. No complaints here. Except this part, where I complain about these outfits. What are these guys wearing? I had to order an extra pina colada just to deal with those ruffles. Plus all that junk in my face.

Our instructor, Jesus, was unwilling to be photographed before the tequila tasting.

Katr was a willing student. Donde esta la tequila, Katr?

One afternoon we came back to our room to find these same sex swans by our jacuzzi tub! Perhaps someone on the staff figured out that we weren't just fat sisters who liked to grab-ass in the pool? We left an extra big tip for housekeeping the next day.

Nice hat, Mayan.

I couldn't take any good shots at night. Because I'm an incompetent photographer? Yes. But also because I was drunk.

Man, registering for a honeymoon was the smartest thing we ever did. Our blissful two weeks in Cancun was the best wedding gift we could ever have received. Thank you so much to all of you who contributed!! We were a little sad to come home, but then again, we knew we were coming home to this:

And nothing softens the blow of a honeymoon ending like a cute pooch sacked out on top of a duck who's clearly saying "Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the poliiiiiiiice".

Creampuffs Tie the Knot

"I feel like Erin [our photographer] didn't have the right filter on the camera," I said to Katr yesterday as we browsed through our newly-arrived wedding albums over a glass of eggnog.

"The filter where we each only have one chin and weigh 100 pounds less?" replied Katr.

"That's right. The filter where I don't look like a plump fuschia sausage."

Ah well. We may have LOOKED like a couple of well-dressed sumo wrestlers with fantastic hair, but we FELT like queens. Queens!! We had amazing family and friends come from near and far to perform, participate in and celebrate our Gay Wedding Cabaret and Topiary Festival and we are still awed by the love! And by the outfits. And by how extremely good-looking all our friends and family are.

For all you hard core gay wedding fans out there, Katr will be posting our vows, the ceremony, the program, the vendors, and, most importantly, the thank-yous, on her gay wedding blog (we're still updating - check back for a link!) Photographistas Lex, Melle and Sherry have already posted their photos and we'll be adding ours soon on Flickr. If you have some to share, be sure to tag them with "topiaryfest07" on Flickr so that we can find them.

I now present a random selection of photos from the big day.

The venue - cabaret ready!

"Fucking awesome cake, man." "Thanks, Dad."

The wedding party ("A lady reveals nothing!" "Yeah . . . we're not ladies." )

Creampuff brides (I'm the plump fuschia sausage on the left)

Katr's fabulous hair!

My fabulous parents!

Lesbians! (for some reason, 85% of the lesbians in attendance at our wedding are in this photo. FYI - Misu, the lovely young lady in the pink strapless number is gorgeous, yes, but I believe she is straight. So hands off, you queers!) 

Finger guns!

 

You can't see my hands here, but you can tell by my face that I'm totally doing finger guns.

Opening number

Our first dance (an audience participation line dance to Barrett's Privateers choreographed by Sam Booker)

An excellent example of appropriate gay wedding attire 

Ditto

Dancing!

Drinking!

Dirty dancing!

Taking it all in

Ass!

Okay - that's about all my little blogging software can handle. Next - more ass! Or maybe the honeymoon!

Creampuff Doesn't Even Know Where to Start

We're back! So much blah blah to share! And pictures! Thank you all for your well-wishes and other hilarious comments!!

When I'm so behind on the blogging, I never know where to start, but since a few of you have specifically asked how the whole CBC Canada Writes national radio gameshow thing played out, perhaps I should just begin there.

The short answer is "it ended in humiliation and defeat!! HA ha!!". But here is what I remember:

• I show up at the CBC building on the morning of my wedding day, fresh as a daisy after three hours sleep. When I ask the security guard where to go, he tells me that I'm late and that they've already started and I need to run! Run! I doubt him but wander down the hall anyway. On my way back to tell him he's an idiot, I meet fellow finalist and blogger Ben Boudreau from Halifax. We mock the security guard amongst ourselves, but quietly, in case he's armed.
  
• The other finalists, Amy Neufeld (Edmonton), Jenny Ryan (Saskatoon) and Derek Krismanich (Kitchener) arrive. The lovely producers have promised brioche for breakfast and we are all excited. Because we are hicks.
  
• We go upstairs, get a quick tour and then grab some breakfast in a conference room. All the other finalists are sweet, smart, funny people and I like them all immensely. Goddamn it.
  
• One by one we meet the host and the judges as we chow down. They are all very friendly. So friendly that it almost makes up for the fact that THERE WAS NO EFFING BRIOCHE.
  
• I get lost going to the bathroom.
  
• We all pile into the studio for the taping of the "first day". It's cozy. But at the end of this round, two of us will be voted off the Canada Writes Island, leaving more room for the victors! This is good, because with all 5 finalists in there, there was barely room for my ass. I still have the marks.
  
• The taping begins. Contestant Jenny Ryan describes us, her fellow finalists, as "very good looking" (it's true - stunning, all of us).
  
• I make a crack to host Jian Gomeshi about how Katr said she might not marry me if I didn't come back bearing the coveted Canada Writes "Golden Mouse" award.
  
• Judge Elvira Kurt cracks wise that perhaps, if I am dumped by Katr, Jenny "all the other finalists are very good-looking" Ryan might sleep with me.
  
• I'm the first finalist up to read my "Canadian classic" movie pitch. The reading part goes okay. And then the judging begins.
  
• I hear my fellow finalists quietly vomiting behind me as the previously jovial judges tear into my light Victorian lesbian romp the way I tear into an eggnog cheesecake - viciously. Judge Terry O'Reilly makes good points about what my pitch is lacking. Judge Dionne Taylor might have said something, but all I remember is her scrunched up "me-no-likee" face. Judge Elvira Kurt says (among other things) that it's just a mess of cliches and she's surprised it took me a whole hour to write it. Through the sleep deprivation and general nausea, a single thought flickers into my foggy, foggy mind as my Canada Writes journey comes crashing to halt. The thought is "Heeeeey! I might make my hair appointment after all!"
  
• I sit back down. I survey the bloodless faces of my suddenly terrified fellow finalists. Jenny Ryan holds up her notepad, on which she has written "I'll still sleep with you." Then Derek Krismanich holds up his notepad. It says "Me too."
  
• One by one, the rest of the finalists present their movie pitches, with varying degrees of approval from the Dragon's Den. It's pretty clear overall, though, which two of us are not going to make the cut. Hint: one of them is ME.
  
• Ben Boudreau and I each have 10 seconds to convey our final thoughts once we are voted off. I hope that one of us throws a diva fit, drops the F-bomb and stomps out. Sadly, we are both too Canadian.
  
• I say something both polite and very true about what a great experience the whole thing had been and how fantastic the other finalists are. Elvira Kurt cracks "Oh, she's not bitter at ALL." I laugh and think "Oh, Elvira Kurt. How I used to giggle at your childhood tales of sleeping in your bathing suit. And now - now, you are dead to me."
  
• The remaining finalists get their next challenge (an hour to write a 200-word humour piece about their childhood) and we all leave the studio. There are hugs and goodbyes and best wishes and everyone is lovely. Still a little shell-shocked, Ben and I wander out to the hallway, where the videographer tapes an exit interview with us. I haven't watched it yet, but remember thinking that we were HILARIOUS. Then we both take a whiz and leave.
  
• I whip out my cellphone and call Katr. "I got voted off first!!" I holler into my phone. "Will you still marry me if I don't  bring the prize laptop to our marriage as my dowry?" Lucky for me, the answer is a resounding "yes" and not just because we've paid a huge catering deposit. I hop in a cab to meet up with my love and her friend Tagu. And then . . . I get my hair done for my wedding. Jealous? HA ha!

[okay, so it looks a little scruffy in this picture - but the flowers! So cute!]

So thank you, CBC, for providing me with some additional fun and frolic on the morning of my nuptials. It really was a blast. And as for the parts that weren't a blast - well, let's just say I drank to forget.

Up next - the wedding! Followed by the honeymoon! Pictures of stuff! And this thing I wrote before the whole wedding happened about how our stupid bathroom at the Holiday Inn destroyed my innocence forever!

While you're waiting for the next installment, do head over to DropDeadHappy for Edition 2.6 of the International Carnival of Pozivities. Read - learn - get involved in the fight against HIV/AIDS - and be sure to leave comments for the contributors!!

Creampuff to Cancun!

I got married!

It's pretty hilarious that I thought I'd have all kinds of time to blog in the week leading up to the wedding. HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA! Holy shit!

Thanks to all of you fabulous people who came out to perform and drink and dance and celebrate with us! It was a pretty effing fantastic and there will be pictures later.

We're off on our honeymoon right now, where the water is warm, the drinks are plentiful and the other honeymooners wonder why those two fat sisters are making out. See you in two weeks!!!

Creampuff's Hope Chest Complete

Know what I don't get a lot of in the mail? If you said "Gina Torres' underwear", guess again. Give up?

SOCK MONKEYS!!

That's right. Our adoptive mothers Melle (maker of sock monkeys) and Sherry (sock-choosing maven) saw fit to complete Katr and my hope chests by mail with two adorable, hilarious sock monkeys! I'm not going to lie. There were tears of joy. And then some monkey-touching.  Katr chose the smaller of the two monkeys and has named her The Lavendar Ninja. She already has a theme song and sound effects. As for me - I chose this one.

I think I will call her Stretch.

Look at the personality on that face!

This is a monkey who'll wrap her long arms around you while you tell her your troubles. And then, when you're finished, she'll say tenderly: "Are you fucking kidding me with that? You think you have problems? Please. Have you SEEN my arms? I have to make an appointment to scratch my own ass! Now get me a banana and a beer and turn on Wild Kingdom."

I took this shot after she'd had a few beers:

And then I had to haul her drunk, gangly ass off the dog:

I think she'll be right at home here.

Thanks, other moms! We're the luckiest fat lesbian adopted daughters ever!! I look forward to a future with no wedding planning, in which Stretch and the Lavendar Ninja start a band and make music videos for YouTube. Stay tuned!!

Creampuff Likes to Keep It Simple

I really didn't think they'd let the "Pa took the biggest dumps in all of Kansas" girl get this far. But the fine folks at CBC's Canada Writes informed me Friday night that I'm one of five finalists chosen to compete in the national radio gameshow set to air November 20, 21 and 22 on CBC Radio One! Fame! Fortune! Possible humiliation and defeat! Either way I get to meet Elvira Kurt! Woooooooo! 

The only catch is that Canada Writes is not live. Shhhhh! It's true! They are taping the competition on Saturday, November 17th. If that date sounds familiar to some of you, it's because Saturday, November 17th is the day I'm pledging to forever intertwine my life with Katr's at our Big Gay Wedding Cabaret and Topiary Festival.

Hahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! Yeah!

I knew that Katr was 'the one' from the minute I read her personal ad that fateful night four and a half years ago.  Oh sure, we've had our ups and downs - a certain postcard from "Louise" comes to mind - but my conviction that we were meant to be together has never wavered.This certainty was cemented further on Friday night when I told the producers I'd have to check with my beaverancée before I committed to spending the bulk of our wedding day writing hilarious shit jokes at the CBC and Katr told them "Just get her to the church on time!"

Seriously. Unconditional love and support AND a quote from My Fair Lady? How did I get so lucky?? I do not deserve her. But don't tell HER that, 'cause she's still got a couple of weeks to back out of this whole deal.

In other news, Happy Hallowe'en! I was hoping to gad about town in this little number tonight:

You all know I would have rocked this outfit, if by "rocked" you mean "looked like I ate a small nun and then stuffed myself into her teeny tiny outfit". But instead, I had to turn my attention to another important costume - my big gay wedding ensemble.

Back in August, Katr and I found a lovely and experienced dressmaker who agreed to make our wedding attire from scratch. She told us that she was going home to Poland for a visit in September but would be back in time to ensure we'd be clothed for the big day.

About two days before we were supposed to meet up with her again, I got an email from her saying that her father was dying over there in Poland and that she had promised to stay until his last breath. But she would probably still have enough time to make our dresses. Probably. Depending on when the man passed on.

I don't know about you, but we felt that keeping our chubby fingers crossed that some poor old man takes the long dirt nap quick so that his daughter can jet home and make our wedding duds seemed like a poor choice in every possible sense. So I sent her our sincere condolences and thus began a flurry of online searching and ordering which culminated today in Katr and I busting into a dressmaking and alteration boutique with giant dresses and panicked eyes.

The ladies in the shop were awesome. Once they'd finished their pinning and laughing at our fat jokes, we were both extremely pleased with our new silhouettes. On the way home, Katr said "I am so glad we went there. They really seemed to know what they were doing. And now that woman can go home on this lovely Halloween night and tell her kids that today she altered a dress for Mothra."

Photo credit: Pink Ribbon (on our wedding invite) by Lex

Creampuff Glamour

I usually avoid the cosmetics department. I don't really wear much make-up (a little mascara and '80's style eyeliner) and every time I walk through one of those places I either:

a) get hassled for a makeover, until they get a good look at my ass and realize that I might crush their delicate, distressed wire stools or

b) get guerilla-spritzed with Sarah Jessica Parker's Covet.

But our big gay wedding is coming up and we'd like to look good in our pictures and our lovely friend Mach volunteered to do our wedding makeup for us and we don't actually own any makeup, so yesterday found Mach, Katr and I deliberately entering the cosmetics department of the Bay for some makeover fun. Jealous?

We had initially planned to go to MAC, but they were very busy and important at MAC - too busy for last minute creampuffs. We were then drawn to the super-cool packaging at Benefit, but, while there was a makeover station all set up, there was no one working the counter. We waited around for several minutes, touching all the stuff and then finally asked the girl at MAC where the Benefit girl was. She told us that she'd never actually seen anyone working at Benefit. Good job, Benefit.

The MAC girl then pointed us towards Cargo, where the stools were sturdy, the brand was Canadian and they had Halloween candy in a bowl. It's like they knew we were coming.

There was some initial confusion over why we were there:

Mach: They're getting married and we need some makeup.

Cargo Lady: It's for a wedding? Which one of you is getting married?

Us: We both are.

Cargo Lady: Wha-? At the same time?

Us: To each other.

Pause while the Cargo Lady got it.

Cargo Lady: Ohhhhhhhh! Well, hey hey!

Minutes later I was perched on a stool, being brushed with foundation by makeup artist Kelly, while Katr was prepped on another stool and Mach looked on, taking notes and eating tiny Coffee Crisps. Kelly, who also does makeup for tv and movies, had some helpful tips for good "picture" makeup - nothing that's shiny and lots of contouring to create shadows. As she "minimized" my chins and created some cheekbones, I was reminded of that scene in Roxanne when Steve Martin tries to downplay his Cyrano schnozz with some dark shading action. I laughed a little to myself, then choked on the powder. Then Kelly nearly poked my eye out with a Q-Tip.

I expected to feel spackled, with all the foundation and powder and contouring powder and blush and eyeshadow and eyeshadow and eyeshadow and cream eyeliner and powder eyeliner and mascara and lipliner and lip gloss and I also expected to look, as my grandfather used to say, like a hoor. But it all felt very lightweight and I have to say that in the store, under the very bright lights, I looked pretty good. Still like me, but faker.

The lovely Katr was pleased with her look too and when it was all over, we bought alot of Cargo stuff. Probably too much stuff. In fact, between what we bought and the "gifts with purchase" I think we may have enough to go into the makeup business ourselves. We'd call our line Argo - Gently Distressed Cosmetics and all of the packaging would have mysterious holes right in front of the "Argo".

Starving and exhausted by the glamour of it all, Mach, Katr and I took our bags to a nearby eatery and chowed down. Later, in low light of the bathroom at the restaurant, I checked out my face - still looking good. But when we returned to our hotel, I saw the makeup for the first time under regular light.

It was like Sigourney Weaver, when she gets possessed by Zoul in Ghostbusters, had mated with the giant Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and I was their demon love-child.

Good thing the wedding is at night. Mach - work your magic!

In other news, it's October 26th! Strange Sisters at Buddies in Toronto! Urban Tales 10 - BiFurious! at Northern Light in Edmonton! Have a fabulous weekend!

Creampuff Wedding Bounty

Warning: This is a post about big gay wedding things. If you hate weddings and think they are lame, maybe skip this. Or just drool over the pictures below.

Ever since my beaverancée and I got engayged, folks have been asking us three things about our upcoming Gay Wedding Cabaret and Topiary Festival:

1. Who's the man? (Me, I am the man, because I will be wearing pants.)

2. What are you wearing? (Actually, as it turns out, I'm wearing a dress. NOW who's the man??)

3. Where are you registered?

The whole idea of a wedding registry seemed challenging for us. We've lived together for four and a half years and have all the kitchen gadgets and towels that we need. The truth is, the fact that people are coming from near and far to celebrate our big gay wedding with us seems like the greatest gift we could ask for, so that's what I told people. And then they would say "Aw, that's so sweet! No seriously - where are you registered?"

So we thought long and hard about what to register for, because I had a sense that Kate's standard answer of "We'd like that set of $200.00 HD cables from Best Buy" wasn't going to fly with my relatives. And that's when we decided that the gift we'd most like for our November wedding was to go and have a fat lesbian honeymoon afterwards! Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaah!! And because the internet is a beautiful, bountiful place, we found a cool way to register for our honeymoon at a great little site called BuyOurHoneymoon.com.

I have to say, I fucking love this idea. You can customize your wish list and register for everything from deeply romantic honeymoon experiences to hepatitis vaccinations to sock yarn. And Shelley and Andrew Green, the couple who created and run it, are fantastic and helpful. I highly recommend it to anyone who's getting hitched but doesn't need china.

Some people, however, like young Melissa, prefer to go "off registry" for gifts. And so it came to pass that a package from Thomas Haas Chocolates arrived at our door yesterday. We swooned immediately upon opening it. But before we opened the case, we took a photo. Because we are geeks.

Please excuse the blurry photos. My hands were shaking with excitement.

Surely it can't - surely there can't be . . . TWO LAYERS??

Oh my holy Jesus, Melissa. Thank you. I . . . thank you.

So . . . that's a lot of truffles, folks. If we eat two of them a day, they'll last for nearly three weeks. Which is perfect, because it says on the box that they're good for three weeks. I will be reporting on the truffles on a daily basis; partly because I know some of you will be curious and partly because it's three weeks into September and this is my first post of the month and it's embarassing.

And so, the first two truffles:

Blackberry Honey * Smooth milk chocolate ganache laced with blackberry honey. (Delicate and sweet and heady - like me)

Marc de Champagne * Milk chocolate ganache perfumed with Champagne and Eau de Vie from Champagne grapes. (Tingled in my nether region)

Elves Don't Appear to be Planning Creampuff's Gay Wedding

I know it's ridiculous, but somewhere deep down, I really thought that if we hired a caterer and booked the hall, all other wedding planning and implementation would be carried out by elves. Maybe gay elves who look like Scott Thompson and also pay for everything.

It's not so much that I don't enjoy planning the big gay wedding, 'cause that part is fun! It's the actual doing of things that's holding me back a little. Because I am a lazy, lazy person.

Fortunately, Katr and I included a "day of big gay wedding stuff" on our whirlwind visit to Toronto last week and we managed to pack quite a bit in. We started by meeting our caterer for a tasting and I had to have a private moment with the wild sea bass skewers marinated in saikyo miso. I think the caterer was a little taken aback by our expressions of delight. I guess they must have sounded kinda dirty from the kitchen. We nixed the things that tasted like ass and signed off on the evening's delicious menu. Check!

Then we moved on to flowers, which went less well. So, uh . . . hopefully there will be some flowers and stuff. Hmmm. Semi-check!

We rounded out the day by meeting and immediately booking the photographer the Viscount of Knockers recommended, so I'm looking forward to lots of cleavage shots. I knew she was the right photographer for us not only based on her lovely portfolio, but also because she took it in stride when I told her that every photo of me on the big day had to include me making finger guns. That's the sign of a professional, people.

We were about to leave the area, feeling heady with accomplishment, when we ran into my friend Bejo and her camera on the corner of Queen and Dovercourt. "Hey!" she exclaimed, "Are you here for Cathy's thing?"

"What thing?" I asked. 

"She's crawling on her hands and knees from Kensington to the lake in her wedding dress to get divorced today! Come on!"

Who could say no to that? Well, Katr could, because she had a meeting. But I stuck around and chatted with folks as Cathy crawled into view with her entourage.

I don't know Cathy well, but I took a great writing workshop from her once and I'm a big fan of her performance work and her now ex-husband Steve did the sound design on a show I directed years ago. Plus he introduced me to one of my favourite words: "squoze". As in:

Steve: I was sitting in [name of restaurant withheld] and I felt a mouse run up my leg. So I clapped my hand down on my pants and caught in it there. Then I thought "Now what?" If I let go, the mouse would run up to my junk. The thing started biting me and I made instinctive decision. 

Me: What did you do?

Steve: Well . . . I squoze.

And so it happened that on the day Katr and I had our hors d'oeuvre tasting and ordered the big gay wedding flowers and hired an ace photographer, I watched Cathy Gordon and Steve Marsh get legally divorced in the basement of the building I'll be getting married in three months from now. It was quite sweet, really (photos of the whole day are here). They signed the papers and kissed before Cathy crawled off to her next stop and after saying goodbye to the folks I knew there, I hopped on the streetcar back to the hotel. I thought about synchronicity and how interesting it was that our wedding planning path crossed Cathy's divorce path that day and how lovely it was that Cathy had friends to hold the train of her wedding dre - OH HOLY FUCK, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO WEAR??

Yes, folks, this is the latest in many gay wedding panics. Now that we've left it so late, will we be able to find someone to make our creampuff wedding clothes? Fortunately, my friend Jeba has just spent the last two days stuffing my inbox with Vancouver creampuff designer ideas and some of them look extremely promising. I'll keep you all posted, but you can rest assured that at least we won't be getting married naked in a traditional Betazoid ceremony.

Yes, yes, it's true. Ich bin ein nerdlinger.