Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff Under the Big Top

Cirque du Soleil's in town! And they're building their venue in the parking lot across the street! It turns out that you can't put up a Big Top in a parking lot without jackhammering and drilling for 8 hours a day, 6 days a week!

I'm trying to break my biological and chemical addiction to bitching about things and Cirque du Soleil is really not making it easy. But I thought that since the Cirque has presented me with this challenge so early in my attempted rehabilitation, it behooves me to rise to said challenge and stay positive about the impact the Cirque is currently having (and will likely have when the show is running) on our lives.

Here is what I've come up with:

Drilling is just mankind's way of giving Mother Earth a massage. While I may not appreciate the noise, I'm sure She appreciates the pampering.

The fence the Cirque has put up around their construction site is like a message board for dogs. So on really hot days, I won't even need to walk the pooch - I'll just trot her out to check her peemail.

Cirque du Soleil is pretty pricey and we probably won't actually go. But if the jackhammering sounds like it's right in the room with us, I bet we'll hear the show every night too! 8 shows a week! For FREE! Plus, there's bagpipes in the show! Total score.

Speaking of scoring, everyone knows Cirque du Soleil is even cooler when you're high. So if the ganja fairy fails us this summer, I plan to pass Emmy Lou off as a drug sniffing dog. I bet that after 25 minutes near the entrance of the Big Top, we'll be set well into 2010.

With the Cirque so close-by, providing a soundtrack to our summer nights, I'm thinking that Katr and I might re-enact that extremely hot scene from When Night is Falling, when Petra and Camille make hot circus love on a soft pile of curtains while those two girls in velvet outfits cavort above them on aerial straps. Katr and I would look HOT in the those velvet outfits. And we work those aerial straps like nobody's business.

If paying work is slow this summer, I could hang outside the Big Top with all of the Cirque du Soleil scalpers. But instead of scalping tickets to Cirque du Soleil, I'll ACTUALLY be selling tickets to my gun show. Hint: the tickets are free - I make all my money in the gift shop.

Speaking of shows, Cirque du Soleil setting up shop next door might actually help me fulfill a long-standing dream - getting my French clown act off the ground.

See, one time, at the train station in Montreal, a small French boy mistook me for a clown. In his defence, I was sitting on the floor in the middle of the station, wearing a bright red jacket, green leggings, green Docs, braids and a blue and white gingham kerchief with sunflowers on it. He pointed at me and exclaimed to his mother, "Maman, c'est un cloun! Un CLOUN, Maman!" I gave him the finger guns and he clapped excitedly before his mother dragged him away. The applause was addictive and I've been working on my performance ever since.

The plan is this: First, Emmy Lou and I will scout out the best location for busking as the 2600 spectators wait to get into the Big Top. When we've committed to a location, I will put on a red nose, tease my hair real big and put on my wedding dress. Then I put a ruff and a red nose on Emmy Lou. Then I hook her up to a little red wagon. In the wagon will be a sandwich board which reads "Cirque de la Lune". And then, when I have everyone's attention, I will moon them.

Then I will pass the hat.

Creampuff Knows She's the One

I'm having an ass-tastic day of shit and worry (the existential crisis kind, not ACTUAL PROBLEMS). Two things are making me feel better:

1. Far From Over by Frank Stallone, which I downloaded so that I could relive in my mind the awesome "getting ready for the most horrible show on Broadway" montage from the 1983 film Staying Alive.

2. Katr. She has been putting up with my shit and worry all day - listening, stroking, making reasonable suggestions, making lunch. And just now she took one look at my angst face (she knew it was my angst face because before I took the dog out for a micro-stroll, I demonstrated the face) and said chipperly:

"Wanna start drinking?"

It's in these special moments that you realize you've married the right person.

UPDATE: Oh my god, LOOK WHAT I FOUND!!

Staying Alive - Far from Over
Uploaded by nightwind23

Creampuff Receives May Flowers to Counter April Showers

I'm getting to that delicious point of tired - that point where you've been getting up too early, working for several hours on something you really like and then going to bed too late for days and days - where you start to feel nauseated all the time and your hair looks like Buckwheat because you had your "morning shower" at 11 p.m. and then slept on it and everything seems either TRAGIC or HILARIOUS. Hahahaaa - hilarious!! All caps is HILARIOUS!!

Fortunately for you, I'm just stopping by here to share some Monday morning cute-osity and report that this hat:

has found its way to this extremely innocent baby:

"What seems to be the problem, officer? No, that's not my weed. No, it's not."

"Hee hee - it WAS my weed! Lucky I kept the rest under my hat...Where are those Cheetos?"

Oh, the cuteness of this baby! The chubby cheeks! The mischievous expression! This jumper makes her head look like the topmost flower of a stalk of beautiful flowers. I would like a shirt like that and on the back, I would write "I'm a delicate flower - you asshole" because I always thought that would be funny.

Baby Elsa's mom, a friend of Katr's, sent these pics in accompanied by the nicest note ever:

Here are a few pics of Elsa in the hat. … the most beautiful hat in the world …. I think Rosemary could go into business selling these hats. I’ve had so many compliments on how adorable the hat is … in fact people comment on the hat and not the baby…. But I’m ok with that, we don’t want her getting a big head!

I was so flattered and flushed with her compliments that I briefly considered following her suggestion and going into the baby hat business. I love knitting! And babies, from afar. But then Katr pointed out that it takes around eight hours to knit these things and I can only knit for about four hours at a time and the yarn ain't free and that at even a fraction of my going rate, I would have to charge around $200 for each hat to keep the dog in her fancy designer kibble.

So people who are actually in the hat business? You can stop looking over your shoulder and relax.

I wish you all a most fabulous week!

Creampuff Landslide

I staunchly refuse to do a lot of things. Some are just common sense - I wouldn't stick a razor inside my nose, for example. But some things I won't do because everyone else is doing them and I like to be ornery. This orneryness has led to some decisions I'm proud of. It has also led to me carrying a fuzzy brown wiener dog purse named Quincy until I was in my late 20's.

Now that I've sucked the pipe and joined Facebook, I've started to give some thought to a few other things I've been holding out on, not necessarily on principle but just because it pleases me to resist them.

The Hair

I've been going grey since I was 17. It's been cool. The grey has arranged itself in interesting, only slightly skunk-like streaks and has provided delightful free highlights for several years. I've enjoyed the contrast of my fresh young face and my hilarious grey hair and congratulated my follicles for following in the footsteps of comedian Steve Martin, my snowy-haired childhood idol. Oh Steve. I believe that robots are stealing MY luggage too.

Lately though, I have to say, the hair is not working for me. Now, I could just need a good haircut. But I have also started to consider going down the dark, glossy chestnut brown path of actually colouring it. I KNOW!! The expense! The maintenance! The ROOTS! And yet . . . and yet, friends. If I can't rock the grey hair as hard as Lex, should I even bother trying? Let's go to the polls:

The L Word

I really don't know why I've been resisting this show so mightily. I'll watch lots of other shows with impossibly pretty people in them and most of those feature FAR less hot lesbian sex. For someone who's always complaining about how there's not enough lesbian entertainment out there, to not at least ATTEMPT to watch the one lesbian show just because it's a fantasy soap opera world where there are no creampuff lesbians is a little  . . . oh, also, MY MOTHER WATCHES IT. She gets it FROM THE LIBRARY. Yeah, that's right.

Having Kids

I know I joke about having joined the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement back in college, but I have to say - all these baby hats I'm knitting have really got my ovaries working overtime.

Every time I finish one, I imagine it crowning the soft dome of my own baby's pointy little -Hahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! Woooooooooooooooooo!! Just kidding guys! Sorry Mom.

Using a Real Pattern

I love knitting, but a lot of mine - why be coy? - is shitty. This is because a lot of the time I like to get IDEAS from patterns, but not actually USE patterns. That's not to say I can't read or use patterns - I just don't like to. Some of my knit-speriments have worked out okay while others . . . well, we shall not speak of them. The thing is, while I loathe to do things like "pay attention" or "be precise", I have also (finally) grown tired of churning out crap. I don't want to lose my adventurous, woolly spirit, but I have to say I'm actually following a pattern for a project right now and it's turning out pretty nice. Well, I changed the toe and stuff, but that doesn't really count.

Obviously, I'm still merely CONSIDERING these activities. I'm hoping the polls will help me decide! Then again, what if I decide to do the opposite of what you all think, just to be ornery?

Creampuff Distraction

Many of you have emailed me privately to ask why, WHY, after my many and varied protestations, I totally caved and joined Facebook yesterday. The reason is too embarrassing and mundane to go into detail about here; suffice to say that it involved a good-looking woman who isn't my spouse and a German existentialist fable.

While I may have gone over to the dark side, it's important to remember that innocence and purity still exist in the world.

Exhibit A:

Oh my holy Jesus. This baby is KILLING me softly with his hat. Killing me softly - with his hat, telling my whole life - with his hippo jumper. It's the kind of picture that makes me think about having babies. Thank goodness I read this right after seeing the photo. Whew! Reproduction averted.

Many thanks to my cousin Jero for the gorgeous soft blue Baby Ull yarn, which she gave me as a wedding gift. And many thanks to the baby's parents, who let me post their gorgeous son's picture on my blog for knit bragging purposes.

Where did I first see this photo? Yeah . . . Facebook. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

Creampuff Succumbs

I joined the Facebook.

Creampuff Detritus

It occurred to me as I reached for my coffee this morning and nearly sent the phone, my glasses, an open bottle of Advil and a CD on the loose from its protective case skittering across the floor that I am in dire need of some office organization.

My "office" is the dining room table. While I love its proximity to the goodies in the kitchen and excellent view of the front door (like Katr, I am on constant ninja-alert), I do not love its lack of drawers or other office-type amenities. I don't need much to make it more functional. Perhaps some kind of caddy, with a place for pens and USB keys and slots for a "to-do" pile and a "filing pile" and an "Old Fashioned Black Licorice Cigars with Authentic Look Red Glow Tip in Genuine Wood Look Cigar Case from Costco" pile (licorice cigars make me more productive. Also, butch. Are my black teeth turning you on?)

Right now, my "important papers management" system is best described as "Oh my fucking god, I TOTALLY just saw it yesterday, where is it?? Where is it?? Where the fuck is -- oh, here it is." No WONDER I never get anything done.

This morning, I finally snapped and went through it all. I found (mostly) paid bills, countless USB keys, pens I thought were lost forever, our marriage certificate and a teeny tiny string of plastic pearls. What the . . .

"What are these?" I asked, waving them at Katr.

"Hammy the Hamster's anal beads?"

"Yeah," she replied over the sound of me DYING over my own joke, "aren't those the beads you found before Christmas? The ones you thought looked like hamster anal beads and you saved them for the sole purpose of blogging about them?"

Oh. Yeah, that's right. I've had some hamster's anal beads on my desk for over a month because I wanted to take a picture of them. For you guys. Never say I don't love you.

Speaking of love, I'm back on the knitting. I'm still labouring through a tiny mystery project (so laborious! so tiny! so mysterious!) but I've also been knitting a lot of baby hats. I sent two off without documenting them (I'm hoping to get pictures back with actual babies in the hats) but since I was taking photos of Hammy's sex toys anyway, I thought I'd take a picture of this one before it wings its way east.

I hope the kid's head is at the upper limit of size.

Creampuff to Dog: You Smell Like Gym Socks

I can't remember the last time Emmy Lou had a bath. She hates baths like I hate the "musical" oeuvre of Fergie. I usually give her a sluicing on our balcony, where there's a drain and few witnesses. Because I am lazy and because it's been cold and because she is a fuss pot who keeps clean like a cat, she's gone bathless for quite some time. But the corn chip smell of the dog became pretty overpowering recently, plus she's been shedding like crazy, so we decided we would try something new. A self-serve dog grooming place. Which I suspected was run by lesbians. Woooo!

In preparation for The Bath, Katr and I thought it would be good to make sure Emmy had an exceptionally long walk to tire her out. Katr had a client meeting near a good off-leash park, so we decided to drive over together, play in the park/have the meeting and then meet up after for grooming and errands.

The park, like all the parks here in rainy, rainy Vancouver, was a total swamp. But Emmy is unstoppable once she locates fowl to hassle and this park is cute duck paradise. So Emmy joyously chased the ducks and sniffed things while I attempted to locate some high ground before the mud sucked my shoes right off. And it was while I was descending one slope on my way to a higher one that I felt the ground move. And then I felt my ass hit the ground. And then I slid down the muddy hill on my ass and bumped into my dog.

Me: Uhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!

Emmy: What's up, fattie?

I would like to point out that last week I saw some guy take a spill and I went over to see if he was okay. I was maybe 10 feet away from three people in the park who all had the pleasure of seeing me wipe the fuck out and no one so much as offered me a Kleenex. That's fine - I wasn't hurt and what were they going to DO anyway? - but I want you three to know that you make the Baby Jesus cry.

I struggled out of the mud and assessed the damage. It seemed that my jacket had taken the brunt of the mud and really only one of my pants legs were wet. I squelched over to a grove of rain-wet cedars and used their branches to scrape some of the mud off my hands while I considered my next move. Katr would probably still be in her meeting for an hour; maybe I would stand around and wait for my leg to dry for awhile, then Emmy and I could go sit in the car! Because I had the spare keys! Ha ha!

Pleased with my plan, I realized I'd lost track of the pooch. I finally located her rooting around in the underbrush at the bottom of another little hill. Mindful of my previous wipe out, I made my way cautiously towards her, inching carefully down the hill. Then I slipped on the mud and fell on my ass.

Me: Uhnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!! Fuck fuck!! Uhnnnnnnn!!!

Emmy (to other dogs): We're not here together.

This time my coat hiked up to my waist so that the muddy water I was sitting in had full access to my private areas. It wasted no time getting intimate with my nethers. Then it started to rain.

The "sitting in the car for 45 minutes or longer" plan seemed less good now, in light of my sopping wet, muddy lower half. And the dog was starting to remember how she never actually gets her mouth on a duck. But I didn't want Katr to have to leave her client meeting. So the dog and I walked the 45 minutes home, dripping mud and meeting the stares of passer-by with a glare that said "Yes?? Can I help you, FUCKO?" It's hard to walk belligerently in wet pants - hard, but not impossible.

I was determined that my slip-nanigans wouldn't put an end to our dog-bathing scheme, so once I'd showered and changed, Katr came home to pick us up and we were off to the dog-grooming place. Emmy Lou was excited to be back in the car - I was excited for her to not smell of gym socks. Things were lookin' good as we walked into the shop full of clean, happy dogs.

As it was our first time there, and because, frankly, I was on the verge of losing my shit completely, I was kind of hoping that the dog-grooming place would be run by nice, helpful lesbians, like at our vet's office. Lesbians who would take care of us. Instead, they were "here's the hose, good luck with that" lesbians whose lack of helpfulness was astounding in the face of Emmy Lou screaming like the Wicked Witch of the West and scrabbling desperately to get out of the tub every two seconds while I held her down and lathered her up. I spent as much time prying her little paws off the edge of the tub as I did actually washing her. 

Me, like I'm talking to a toddler: Emmy, if you jump out of the tub with the cord around your neck you could hang yourself.

Unhelpful lesbian (as I drench my shirt holding  the dog down with my whole upper body): Oh, did I not show you where the aprons are?

Emmy: OMFG!! Why are you DOING this to MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! It BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURNS!!!

Unhelpful lesbian: You should use a LOT more shampoo.

So basically, I paid $20 to torture my dog for half an hour when I can do it at home in half the time for free. Needless to say, we will not be returning to the dog-grooming place. Unless Emmy gets some Ativan and they get one of these.

Les resolutions de Creampuff - edition 2008

I know! It's already January 5th! It seems like I've blown the "procrastinate less/blog more" resolutions already this month, but I'll have you know that I have spent the last six days endlessly converting hundreds of posts from Textile2 to HTML and then reformatting them in order that they may be ready for the launch of the new onedegree.ca, the internet marketing blog we took over last year. It's taken six days to do one year's worth of posts and I've got two years to go and it's sucking my will to live.

But I am taking a break! Ha ha! Because if I wait too long, New Year's resolution time will be over - unless I wait for Chinese New Year. Which I seriously considered.

I love New Year's resolutions. I love reading yours - I love crafting my own - I basically love the idea that a "new year" equals a "new opportunity" to "suck less". I was pleased to note, when I checked last year's New Year's post, that I did manage to make good on several of my resolutions - I learned to knit socks against all odds, Flippy showed me how to make my blog searchable, we acquired a dog who forces me to exercise every day and while my various wages couldn't accurately be described as "livable", they do pay the rent. Also, I floss like it's going out of style, mainly because we don't have a dentist here yet.

Speaking of "becauses", 2007 was delightful in myriad ways, but it was also a fabulous year for excuses. FABULOUS. Living in Toronto for two months, adopting a dog, getting gay married - I had so many wonderful reasons to put things off! Like, for instance, learning to drive.

Hahahahaaaaa! I know! STILL!

I'm not going to bore you with why, because who cares? Suffice to say that, as part of my "embrace the new!" initiative, this WILL be the year that I actually do some driving. So...

1. Learn to drive. This means I will:

• Get my learner's license again 
• Take a driver training course
• Memorize our gay marriage vows so that I can recite them to Katr as I careen down the street with her in the passenger seat, white-knuckled and screaming.

Will I be able to take the road test before the gay divorce comes through? History will decide! Or perhaps Katr's lawyer.

2. Locate some health care professionals.

The dog has a vet, but we don't have a doctor or a dentist. Or a hairdresser, for that matter - we've lived here for a year and we both still get our hair cut IN TORONTO.

3. Finish my play.

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey - It doesn't seem to be writing itself. I realize that while it's still in an "unfinished state", it is PERFECT and brilliant in my mind. Once I declare it "finished", then it will be judged by others who do not love it as I do and that will blow. But you know - sometimes things blow! And no one will die if this blows. So I need to get the fuck over it and finish it. Preferably before we have to give up the fabulous printer we're "testing".

4. Knit Padu's sweater.

I promised Padu a sweater for his birthday. Last year. Hahahaaaaa!

5. Be greener.

We do plenty of environmentally conscious things around the house and beyond - buying carbon offsets for the car and air travel, using re-usable bags at the grocery store, signing up with greendimes.com, running the car off the dog's gas, recycling my hilarious jokes - but I confess that there are times that I can't face scrubbing out the peanut butter jar and just toss it instead of recycling it. There - I said it! So this year I'm going to suck it and wash those jars out.

6. 10000 steps!

When I first starting walking the dog, I nearly expired. Seriously - going from almost completely sedentary to walking for 2+ hours a day nearly did me in. But I have come to love my daily outings with Emmy Lou. Now that I can walk briskly for well over an hour without shitting twice and dying, I think it's time for a kicky pedometer and some really good headphones, so that I can keep track of our ambulatory progress and listen to Prince. I look forward to hitting the seawall fatly and startling passerby with my strange hidden clicking and sudden, off-key singing. Huzzah!

Okay, so those are the most specific of my goals for 2008 - I think if I can pull these off, it could be a banner year! Maybe I could KNIT the banner! And attach it to the back of the car while driving it! And then get pulled over by the fuzz!

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!!