Getting Unstuck

More Tales from Revision Land

2009-07-05T19:00:00.004-04:00

Procrastination is my friend. No seriously. We're BFFs.

I'm back in Revision Land, this time doing a line edit and making some minor (and hopefully final!) changes on LOVE STRUCK (which is now officially available for pre-order!).

Note: You can tell it's a minor revision by the number of Post-its. When I'm in writing or first-revision mode, there are more than 30 Post-its in several colours. Now, there are only 7! Yippee.

Still, I don't have a lot of time to do my revisions. I'm on a strict deadline. Which means I should be spending every free minute working on my book.

But I'm not.

Unfortunately, I chose this past week to have my website redesigned. The company I hired promised me that he would work quickly -- I tend to have a bit of a problem when I decide I want to do something (cut my hair, get a manicure, the list goes on and on), I want to do it right now. Not in five weeks. I'm so impatient. The company said it would be no problem.

So now, the real problem is that the guy doing my site wasn't kidding. He's in Holland, which means every morning when I wake up, I've got a new change to my site that I need to approve before noon. I'm very excited, but it means I'm choosing the right colours for my new website rather than words for my book. Yikes.

The good thing about being in Revision Land is that The Hubs gets me dinner so that I don't wander into the kitchen, get distracted and end up watching TV for hours. And Hubs dinners are the best. Today we had our friends over for brunch, so dinner was leftover almond croissants and pain au chocolat from Epi Breads with homemade jams from the farmers' market on King Street West. Maybe that's why I like being in Revision Land for so many days on end...

10 Ways to Justify a Shopping Splurge...

2009-06-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

You know my love of the list, and so, this week I figured out how to incorporate the list into my Sweetspot blog post...

A Tale of Two Cheesecakes

2009-06-29T06:45:00.002-04:00

My dad's birthday is only a few days after Father's Day. Which means what's normally a hard task (what to get the guy who has it all?) is even harder. Or that's my excuse. So this year, the Hubs and I decided we'd cook up a feast for my dad for Father's Day. Okay, okay, it's kind of sort of a totally selfish gift, because it meant a) we got to BBQ and b) go in the pool and hot tub at my dad's house. Still, we had to actually cook the meal.

Anyway, as it turned out, it rained all day on Father's Day, so we ended up just staying inside and drinking. Or rather, my stepmom and I did, while the Hubs and my dad manned the BBQ with beers in hand.

A few days before the BBQ/gift, the Hubs' parents told us they'd be in town for Father's Day too. So we decided, if 1 BBQ for 1 Dad = Good Idea, then 2 BBQs for 2 Dads = Even Better Idea!

We decided we'd go to my Dad's on Saturday, then drive back to the city on Sunday and host BBQ #2 at our place.

"We'll just get double of everything," The Hubs said. Which in theory sounds like a good idea, and really isn't much more work.

Except, who wants to eat the same meal two nights in a row? Not me, says the girl who really hates leftovers. So instead, I got a brilliant idea that I would do everything similar, but different.

I agreed we could have steaks on both nights, but everything else I'd make different.

The vegetable was easy. I brought broccoli for BBQ 1 and asparagus for BBQ 2.

The dip was a bit harder. I made a roasted red pepper dip for BBQ 1, then remembered my inlaws don't like peppers, so made an artichoke dip for BBQ 2.

I served the dips with potato cheese bread at BBQ 1. Multigrain at BBQ 2.

Then came dessert: I decided on cheesecake. Except, I only have one amazing cheesecake recipe (even if it is out of season).

It's tried and true (read: I've made it enough times that finally I don't screw it up). But what to do for BBQ 2?

And so the hunt began. Although cheesecake #1 is apple cinnamon and amazing, my general rule off thumb is that for a dessert to be good it must contain 2 ingredients: chocolate and caramel.

Then I found this recipe for Turtle Cheesecake.

The only trouble was, I couldn't find the Kraft caramels. And that's when the trouble began. First I improvised with caramel dip. Then I swapped the regular crust for an Oreo crust (more chocolate = more yum!).

The first cheesecake tasted amazing. It's too bad that the caramel oozed out the middle of it, so it didn't exactly look pretty. I took that cheesecake to work.

Then I tried again. But I left the caramel on the stove while I went to look at my dad's plumbing situation (enter yawn here). It burned to the bottom of the pot.

Finally, I made my own caramel sauce and cheesecake #3 turned out perfectly. By which point I was sort of sick of cheesecake altogether.

But the Dads were happy. So I guess that's all that matters.

Goodbye, MJ

2009-06-26T10:02:00.008-04:00

I really can't believe Michael Jackson is gone.

I can't say anything that's not being said on a million other websites today, so I'll just tell you what I know. The King of Pop was my first true love.

When I was seven, my entire room was plastered with MJ posters. I loved him. I played his Thriller album on my record player and memorized every word to every song.

That same year, MJ came through on the Victory Tour with the Jackson Five. Knowing mine and my sister's love for Michael, my dad stood in line for hours to get us tickets. Then, he drove us to Buffalo to the concert, and let us see the show alone (while he probably went to have beer and wings. Or something. I don't think I ever asked what he did that night).

Unfortunately, I didn't even know Michael Jackson had brothers. So whenever a Jackson Five song came on, I would turn to my older and wiser sister and ask what was going on and why MJ wasn't just singing "Thriller" and "Billie Jean" and "Beat it" over and over again. Clearly I though "Jackson 5" was just a tribute to his favourite number, or something.

Still, the concert may be my one of my favourites ever. Unlike some concerts I've gone to where I can't even remember details a year later, I still remember that show and can picture our seats and how MJ looked on stage in his white outfit.

I still have the program and the sparkly glove pin I got at the concert that night.

As years went on, my musical tastes changed and so did my crushes, but I still always loved MJ deep down, even when I was 17 he and he was no longer cool. I was totally into Britpop and a guy in a band with very discriminating musical tastes who I knew, if he knew I still loved MJ would probably dump me on the spot. But I didn't care. I secretly bought MJ's CDs and listened to them alone in my bedroom.

Eventually, the boyfriend discovered my secret, but by that time our relationship was over anyway.

And now I'm married to a man, who, last night when I came home and asked if he heard about MJ, said in all seriousness (although he never owned a single MJ album), "Yes. I'm going to wear a black glove to work tomorrow."

Goodbye, MJ.

Up Close and Personal (ized)

2009-06-22T09:40:00.002-04:00

Today, over at Sweetspot, I'm talking about why I can't find a single item with my name on it.

The back story: When I was born, my parents named me Chantel (surprise, I know). But my dad, even though French, knew me too well even when I was only a day old, and could see that despite multiple attempts -- a stint of French immersion, a summer in Paris as an au pair, an exchange to Quebec during my summer vacation, and a diet of poutine, I would never speak French well. Thus, he anglocized my name with an "e", giving me an out when people said "why don't you speak French?" and also, making my name unique.

Which I love. But as a result, I have had only a handful of personalized items:

1. A mug from Quebec with my name spelled "Chantal".

2. A Minnie Mouse hat from DisneyWorld. But that doesn't count, since they'll write whatever name you tell them on it.

3. A mug from my coach my first year of baseball. Ditto on the not counting, because the coach handpainted all the names herself.

4. Return address labels. Tritto.

5. Personalized stationery. Quattro. Still, I love them.

So because I could never have anything with my name on it, I became obsessed with things that sort of have my name on them. Like an item I talk about today at Sweetspot.

PS: I know what you're thinking: Why am I coming here just so that you can send me over here?

I promise only to do it on Mondays. And to update more regularly here. Girl Guide's Honour.

Boot Camp Is Hard.

2009-06-16T08:06:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I went to the YMCA, where I work out. I use the term "work out" loosely. Basically, when I'm not too lazy to get out of bed in time to get to a class before work, I go. But since most of the classes are at 6:30 and I usually end up getting there at 7, I'm forced to create my own "workout" -- which often is centred around what TV show is on the elliptical trainer. Note: There are very few good shows on at 7 am -- on BT, Today and GMA, the good guests come on in the 8-9 hour. And MuchMusic airs French Kiss at 7 am. I like crepes...

I also like frites...

And I am obsessed with escargot...

Ooh-la-la!

But I do not French videos. Non-non.

So anyway, yesterday morning, I decided to drag myself out of bed and go to Boot Camp. Because as painful as it is, I keep telling myself that if I actually went regularly, I'd probably be pretty fit.

When the class started, one of the instructors said to grab the heaviest weights we could handle. Determined to give the class my full effort, I chose the heaviest weights I could handle. I figured that if they were too heavy, I could just switch to lighter ones (like um, I usually do).

Then the instructor told us we were going outside! Hurrah! I thought happily. It was so nice out yesterday morning. I was super-glad I came to the class.

Then we got outside. Then the instructor told us we were going for a run.

With the weights.

In our hands.

I thought I was going to die.

And then, we had to do some crazy boxing move. With the weights. And then tricep lifts. With the weights. And then straight-arm lifts. With the weights.

While running.

And just when I was thinking that I might be able to keep going, if I just stop doing all the crazy arm moves and instead hold the weights at my sides -- or rest them on my love handles -- the instructor yelled out: "Get your arms up! Do you want saggy arms flapping in the wind?"

Not when he put it that way. No, I didn't. But I did sort of want to chuck one of my weights at him.

Bland foods can be the pitta...

2009-06-15T09:13:00.003-04:00

Last week I went to the launch of Beauty 2.0, a must-read beauty bible, written by Kristen Ma, co-owner of Pure+Simple in Toronto. Want to know your dosha? Want to know what is a dosha? Want to read about how I failed to stick to my dosha?

I share it all over here!

Saving the World (in Sensible Shoes)

2009-06-15T08:00:00.000-04:00

I have a friend named Nerissa. Actually, her name's Marissa, but we used to golf together in a ladies' league and the guy in the pro shop used to call us "Nerissa" and "Chanel", and now the names have stuck.

Marissa and I met at TV Guide when we both got engaged at the same time (is there anything better than bonding over tiaras and flowers?)

Now, Marissa and I are both authors. Marissa's first novel, Saving the World (in Sensible Shoes) is not only funny but also so smart, so it's almost a non-guilty pleasure, because you're learning something while laughing. I can't do the premise justice, so in Marissa's own words, here's what the book's about:

Rhiannon O’Shea, an eco-justice intern, doesn’t fit in anywhere: she’s not a vegan (despite what she’d have her eco-fascist boss believe); nor is she an upscale socialite (never mind the grandparents with the Park Avenue penthouse or the handsome oil heir suitor she’s not falling in love with). She’s also not a particularly good intern. Until she's sent to the arctic to save beluga whales from offshore drilling, and her whole world changes. This book is about choosing your own adventure in a world full of forked roads, escaping the daily grind and searching for enlightenment, figuring out what you believe in, then turfing it all to believe the unbelievable -- and finally, it’s about dressing for success and accessorizing for survival.

Doesn't it sound good? Don't you want to buy it right now? I know! Me too.

But we're all going to have to wait. Her agent is shopping the book to publishers, so hopefully the book will sell very soon! In the meantime, Marissa has started her blog, where she writes about writing, getting published, and trying to be as green as she can. And it's super funny, just like her.

Shark attack!

2009-06-12T07:00:00.000-04:00

Don't worry. It wasn't me. (Not surprisingly, when you live near an unswimable lake, not an ocean...). Still...

I'm obsessed with sharks. And the Hubs is convinced we're going to get eaten by them.

If we have kids, it's going to make for some interesting bedtime stories. The other night we went to a wine tasting from South Africa, to prep for our vacation to South Africa later this year. A woman at our table was telling us how it's the best place to do shark dives (in a cage, however). You TOTALLY cannot go into the water by yourself, with just a wetsuit, unless you are crazy or want to get eaten.

But the Hubs was like "No one's going in a cage."

I was like "I'm TOTALLY going in a cage!"

The Hubs looked at me like I just admitted to liking sardines. Seriously, who likes sardines? Not me.

I get the risk. You could do everything you're supposed to do, but the shark could still eat you.

But if you go skydiving, the shoot could not open, and the ground would break you.

If you go ziplining, the zipline could break, and a tree could break you. So is it really all that different?

On the way home, I was thinking to myself how I still have a few months and can totally convince The Hubs that it's going to be fine for me to go in the cage.

Then we got home and as were both on our laptops, and I saw the main story on my home page: Shark-infested beaches of the world.

Of course, I gasped, then quickly closed the screen. Too late.

Unfortunately, The Hubs had the same home page.

He: "I saw it."

Me: "I'm sure South Africa isn't even on the list."

He: "It's Number 1."

Me: "Oh."

He: "You're not going."

Me: "But why?"

He: "Because I like you. I would like to keep you."

Hmph. How can I argue with that?

5 Things You Need To Work

2009-06-08T17:15:00.004-04:00

As you probably know, I got myself a new job a few weeks ago, and this week I started my new blog over at Sweetspot.

I had to come up with an idea about what to blog about.

Since the whole mandate of Sweetspot is to talk about things we love (how hard is my job?!), we decided that my blog -- The Cherry on Top -- would cover all the pretty little things that make your outfit, hair, home, life or events that much better.

Today I'm talking about those little things that make your desk pretty (and keep you inspired to keep working)! Because seriously, don't you get totally distracted when there's ugly crap nearby?

More reasons to have (many) editors...

2009-06-03T07:00:00.000-04:00

Since Love Struck is set in New York and I don't usually frequent Wall Street when I'm in the city, I asked my friend who lives there for the name of a good restaurant on Wall Street that bankers would go to for lunch.

He wrote back. "Does it actually have to be on Wall Street? Or do you mean that they "work on Wall Street", the way I do?"

Did you know that people who "work on Wall Street" don't actually "work" on "Wall Street"? My friend works in Times Square. Even though he works on Wall Street.

I'd make a TV reference for comparison, but there isn't one. When I say "I watch the Bachelorette", I mean it. I really do.

Why everyone needs an editor...

2009-06-01T17:46:00.005-04:00

After finishing the latest revision of Love Struck, I asked The Hubs if he would read it over. He's very good at catching things that I just make up, but which, in reality, make no sense. In Stuck in Downward Dog, he was my go-to guy when it came to Mara's ex-boyfriend's business-y career. He knew why he was leaving and where he was going. And I trust him that when it comes to numbers and suits, it all makes sense.

The Hubs said he'd read the manuscript if I took it to Kinko's and got it double-side photocopied and bound so that the pages wouldn't go flying when we took a trip out west on the weekend. So I did, then he read the book on the plane while I drank red wine and pretended to read a book and discovered a new love for Lionel Richie on XM radio ("Hello! Is it me you're looking for?") But I couldn't focus. As soon as he pulled the top off his pen and circled a word on the page, I just had to know what he was doing.

I looked over as he circled the words "MBA" and "Cambridge". In my mind, I thought it sounded lovely that one of the characters got an MBA from Cambridge. I pictured him eating scones with clotted cream and looking very smart in an argyle v-neck over a shirt and tie.

Me: "Why did you circle that? Can't he get an MBA at Cambridge?" (I had no clue. That's why it's called fiction. I just make it up).

The Hubs: "He can. But I doubt anyone will hire him."

Yikes. I hope no one reading this has an MBA from Cambridge and a job they love. Anyway, the character in question is no longer a Cambridge student. I hope he enjoyed the ride while it lasted.

Mr. Mouse, the Goldfish

2009-05-27T07:00:00.000-04:00

As I may have mentioned before, the Hubs is obsessed with getting Mr. Baz a mouse to play with on the patio.

For obvious reasons I am against this.

I am not, however, against a goldfish.

So the other day we bought Mr. Baz his very first goldfish. And then, because we were worried he was going to scare the goldfish to death, we bought it a friend, so they could um, be scared together.

To appease the Hubs, they are named Mr. and Mrs. Mouse.

On day 1, Mr. Baz drank the water from their bowl.

On day 2, he gave Mr. and Mrs. Mouse a passing glance on his way to eat the freshly planted grass and flowers instead.*

* Note: While buying our flowers for the patio, we also bought Mr. Baz two catnip plants. We even went to a second store to find the perfect flower pot in which to plant the catnip. And what does he think? He is not at all interested in the catnip. What kind of cat is not interested in catnip? A crazy one, that's what. He's like "I'm not into things that put "cat" in the title. Give me a scrap of steak, a crumble of parmiagiano, the tail from your dynamite sushi roll. But catnip? Fuhgeddaboudit.

On day 3, he ignored Mr. and Mrs. Mouse completely, but meowed incessantly when I pulled out the fish food (which are dehdrated worms or something equally disgusting).

And now I'm worried Mr. and Mrs. Mouse are going to die of boredom. They're like "Where's the big black cat? There's nothing to look at around here. This place sucks." It's a good thing we bought a pair, so they can amuse each other. So far they seem to be playing tag, though I can never tell which one's "it".

How to MC a wedding

2009-05-25T07:00:00.000-04:00

Last weekend I was an MC.

Not that kind of MC.

The kind at a wedding. The Master of Ceremonies. Or, as I like to call it, The Mistress of Ceremonies.

Luckily, my initials are MC, so it wasn't at all confusing when people would call out "Hey MC!". I'm lying. Not a single person hollered that. But at the end of the night, some drunk guy was like "Hey, there goes the DJ!" to me as I walked by him on the dance floor. I didn't have the heart to tell him that the DJ was the one sitting behind the table, mixing music on his iPods. I guess he was confused by the lack of turntable action.

Anyway, I always think of MCs as guys. And funny. I'm neither, but then I remembered that my sister and sister-in-law were actually my co-MCs at my wedding so clearly I didn't think our MC had to be a guy. Or even just one guy. When I was preparing, I thought about what they did, to try to get some inspiration. At our destination wedding, though, their biggest task was to ensure no fat, bald guys in Speedos tried to sneak their way into the ceremony area or get caught in the background of any photos. So perhaps not really relevant, though it was the May 24 weekend, on a golf course, with a winery onsite and an open bar, so I didn't underestimate the reality that some people might decide to pound back a 2-4 and strip down.

Luckily, no one did, although I like to think they were going to, until I told them I'd kick their butt during my speech. So really I stopped them in their tracks. Go me. Either way, no embarrassing moments for the bride, and the most embarassing part was only when I explained how to get the bride and groom to suck face (aka the kissing game). My father appeared slightly mortified by my choice of words. Oh, Dad...

College Humor

2009-05-22T07:00:00.000-04:00

Last night I was at an event where I was playing wing-girl to my friend who liked one of two guys. She talked to the one she liked, and the other guy (who was actually the one who liked her), got stuck talking to me, the married girl. Nothing sucks more than getting stuck talking to a girl who's happily hitched, while your friend hits on the girl you like. At least it was open bar.

Anyway, he sold ads for CollegeHumor.com! So even if he had a crappy time, I got to the bottom of this mystery! Do you know this website?

I discovered the show on MuchMusic a while ago, and am now addicted to it. It's hilarious, but I just assumed that the premise (a bunch of kids started the website to make beer money in college, and then turned the gig into a full-time business) was fake. Then I found the website, and it looked far too complex to be a fake site for the show. Then, I met the guy last night who confirmed it's for real! They did start this website and then it turned into a job and now that's where they all work, and now they get to star in the scripted TV show.

Just call me Nancy Drew.

Or maybe you already knew all that.

If you didn't, here's a clip to get you addicted too.

The evolution of the Trekkie

2009-05-10T19:25:00.005-04:00

This weekend, I boldly went where I have never gone before.

To a Star Trek movie.

I spent all of Saturday doing the final* edits on Love Struck...

*Note: When I say "final" I mean, final until this week when I read it over one last time. And then send it to my editor and agent. And then they read it. And then I go to the next round of edits. But that is not for many, MANY weeks, and that is what I'm focusing on.

....and getting so excited every time I heard another clap of thunder because it meant I wasn't missing out on a sunny Saturday, stuck inside with my computer. I'm so selfish, I know.

To make me feel better, The Hubs did work too, because there's nothing like working while someone else is eating ice cream sandwiches and dancing in the living room.

Then, when I finished, he said I could choose whichever movie I wanted to see.**

**I'm pretty sure when he said "whichever" he did not really mean 17 Again, although he did tell me where it was playing. But I'm not that terrible.

Instead, I chose Star Trek. I really never imagined the day that I would see a Star Trek movie a) in a theatre and b) without complaining.

But that's what happens when J.J. Abrams makes a film with hot guys. It may be one of the best movies I've seen in a long time. I know you think I'm kidding right now, but I'm not. If J.J. had been around 30 years ago, maybe we'd all be Trekkies.

Now that the movie is over, I'm a little bit obsessed with the Star Trek the Movie website,
where you can upload a picture of yourself and turn into a Romulan or a Captain or an Officer, or my personal favourite, a Vulcan. You can also record yourself saying any phrase you like in Vulcan voice! I would show you but everytime I try to embed myself saying Live Long and Eat Cupcakes in my fab bowl cut, it crashes my browser. Oh well. Go beam yourself into the website so you can be a Vulcan too.

Toe crack

2009-05-07T07:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I walked by this mannequin and noticed her flip-flops. Then I noticed she has no toe crack. No cleavage. She's like a web-toed frog. Is it me, or does it sort of freak you out to stare at her feet for too long?

Swine flu: Conspiracy theory?

2009-05-06T08:00:00.000-04:00

I'm not really worried about the swine flu, which is weird, because I keep thinking I'm going to get a blood clot to my brain and have an aneurism and die on the spot, so it's not as though I'm not irrational or think I'm invincible. Maybe it's that when SARS hit, I really did not change my habits at all; I took the subway, went to class, went to work, went to grimy bars and kissed lots of boys. On the lips.

Ooh. How naughty.

Did Purell even exist back then? I don't think so. I don't remember using it. And I survived.

Side note: Do you know what Purell's slogan is? I'll tell you.

"Imagine a Touchable World."

Awesome. Sounds like the name of a George Michael song.

At my friend's work downtown, the company sent out a statement saying you can't have more than five people in a meeting at once. Which means that that they had to conference call people in another board room, just to have a regular meeting. It's kind of ridiculous, but at the same time, it's kind of scary.

To keep myself sane, I tell myself piggy stories. Like when I was in grade school I had a teacher who wore pig clothes, pig accessories, and carried pig accoutrements (like her lunch bag, umbrella, etc). It's a weird sight on its own, but see a woman in all pink piggy items every day in a school that is otherwise a mass of green plaid and it's even stranger. A lot of kids made fun of her. I'd like to say I didn't, but I'd by lying. Come on, pig paraphernalia? You'd have made fun too. That's what twelve-year-olds do. Then one day she told us that the reason she was so obsessed with pigs was because her heart stopped working and she got a pig valve put into her body. And so, a pig saved her life.

I felt like the biggest jerk ever for making fun.

I guess it's not that weird to wear pig clothes when you compare it to having part of a pig inside of your body. I wonder how she feels about pigs right now.

When I played baseball, one of the girls on my team had a pig as a pet. She'd bring him to all the games. He was black and had the shiniest coat ever and walked on a leash.

His name was Pigmalion.

No it wasn't. But that would be an awesome name for a pig, no?

My sister was set to go to Cabo last weekend. I emailed her in a panic to ask her if she was still going to go. She wrote back immediately to say that she was already in Mexico and it was a ghost town at the resort which meant she was living like royalty. (Royalty that's about to get piggy flu, I couldn't help but thinking). She said people were running for their lives to catch the last planes out of Mexico and that they were crazy, that it's the flu not a plague. She finished her email by telling me she thought it was a conspiracy by the US government to take our minds of the recession.

If that's true, I think it's working, though does that mean the people who have died are actors and are laughing. Ha ha ha, those crazy North Americans. They think we died from flu from a pig.

They made a movie about this sort of thought process in the 90s. It was called Wag the Dog, remember?

iheartintoronto - prettier than ever!

2009-05-05T07:00:00.001-04:00

Several months ago I launched iheartintoronto.com -- a blog to talk about everything I loved but couldn't write about at my day job. Little did I know when I got a fabulous assistant, she would turn the site into this, which made its post-makeover debut yesterday!

Thanks so much to Jen, Suzanne and her guy Mo, we now have such a pretty site to talk about pretty things!

Let us know what you love, what you hate, and what you want to write about!

Cat Ladies, Bedtime Stories and Amadeus

2009-05-04T08:28:00.004-04:00

We saw Mr. Baz on Friday night -- he did an amazing job! All three seconds that he was on the screen! But seriously, I was glad that he (and when I say "he" I really mean "we") weren't on the screen for too long because we (and when I say "we" I really mean "I") was sort of making jokes, and the film Cat Ladies was actually sort of sad. There were hilarious parts, but those were actually at the expense of the cat ladies. Not in a mean way, but the film obviously highlighted the stereotype of the "crazy cat lady" -- four of which were featured in the film.

One had three cats.

One had sixteen.

One had 123.

And the final one had too many to count. (The one with 123 actually counted them all.)

The film was incredible and I was so proud of my girl Christie Callan-Jones, the director. She did an amazing job.

There was a short film before Cat Ladies called Statistics, which showed the life of workers in a call centre in Norway. When I first graduated from university I took a government job, and spent my days on the phone helping people start up their small businesses. It was really just a glorified call centre as I spouted out memorized info while doing the daily crossword in the Metro. (I didn't even last my probation period before I went postal and quit). So I could totally relate. The film plays again this weekend - Saturday and Sunday and I highly recommend catching it with Cat Ladies. You won't be disappointed.

Then, to add a little low-brow content to my weekend I watched Bedtime Stories with Adam Sandler.

The film was super cute, but the best part was a scene with Adam Sandler in his truck, rockin out to Rock Me Amadeus. I can't find a clip, so you're getting the actual Falco vide. I forgot how awesome this song is.

Hot Docs: Cat Ladies & Mr. Baz's big-screen debut!

2009-05-01T08:58:00.004-04:00

Tonight's the night! Mr. Baz is making his big screen debut in the closing credits of Cat Ladies, a documentary that's part of Hot Docs. Months ago, you might remember me blogging about Mr. Baz's experience filming for the documentary; at the time I just assumed the film would air on TV. But then it got accepted to Hot Docs and THEN, the other day OPRAH'S PEOPLE CALLED.

Oprah!

Apparently she's doing a show on documentaries. Could you even imagine if she talked about the Cat Ladies on her show? And what if she needed one of the cats to come? Sure, Mr. Baz isn't the star of the film (which follows women who have hundreds of cats), but he's the comic relief! And he dressed up! Surely she would want him to sit on her couch, wouldn't she?

I would even put him in a tutu, so he'd look pretty.

Compared to this...

...Mr. Baz would look so well-behaved!

Now, aren't you dying to see Cat Ladies? Well you can! Here's the sked:

Tonight, 6:30 pm at the Cumberland: Rush tickets only
Saturday, May 9, 9:45 pm at The Royal: Rush tickets only
Sunday, May 10, 9 pm at the Cumberland: Advance tickets still available.

And now... I'll leave you with this (Mr. Baz is not in this clip. You have to buy a ticket to see him!):

Strange noises...

2009-04-25T08:46:00.003-04:00

This week I started my new job, which I totally love, but which came with some strange noises.

As we were reading in bed, the Hubs said to me, "Do you hear wine bottles clinking?"

I totally did. We didn't think Mr. Baz had been getting into the booze when we weren't looking, but it was really the only explanation, since we've yet to have a mouse on the 25th floor.

The next morning, we heard the bottles clinking again. But when I checked it out, Mr. Baz was nowhere to be seen.

Around 10 am, I heard the wine bottles again, only I was now at work, in my office and the sound was coming from my coat. I realized there were two scenarios: either the wine bottles were in my coat pocket or I was slowly going crazy. I channelled my inner Nancy Drew and realized it was not wine bottles but my new BlackBerry.

It was my a-ha! moment. Of course, I had no idea what the clinking sound meant or how to shut it off, but I was officially on the case, and the following day I solved the problem. And just in time, because a new sound emerged when I got home from work. As soon as I unlocked the door I heard this ticking noise in the front hall. I didn't take off my coat or drop my handbag, but instead started looking for the source, which seemed to be following me everywhere I looked: the coat closet, the cleaning closet, the smoke detector, the water sprinkler head. Finally, I realized the noise was actually coming from me. Or rather, my handbag. I reached inside and pulled out Percy Lights & Sounds Engine (you know, Thomas the Tank Engine's friend), a gift I'd bought from my friend's son, who loves Thomas. I got sucked in by the Percy who beeps and chugs and has a headlight that turns on and off. Only apparently this Percy had a strange tick, that well, made him tick incessantly.

I quickly learned that slamming a toy on the dining room table shuts it up.

For about five minutes, until he started up on his own again.

And went on and on all night and all morning. Until, of course, I got back to the store to show the cashier that he was possessed, at which point he was Silent Percy, the Perfect Engine.

"He's possessed, I swear," I told the cashier.

Turns out, when a customer tells you that a kid's mini green engine is possessed, toy stores tend to just believe you and not ask questions. (I'm not going to dwell on the why's...like how maybe they just wanted to get crazy me out of the store before I scared little children). So I got a new Percy, who seems to beep and chugg on command only, and all is well.

Phew.

Suicidal Orchids

2009-04-20T19:11:00.005-04:00

I love orchids. Sadly, they don't love me.

For the past few years I've tried to keep my orchids alive, but inevitably, all the flowers fall off and then they're just sticks in mud. Only they're not in mud, they're in dirt, but whatever. They're not exactly eye-catching without their petals.

Apparently, orchids will come back to life but every website I read had a different theory. Some said you had to cut them down to the root. Others said you had to prune them to just past their last bloom. Some said to water it religiously. Others said not to water it at all.

I tried everything. Mostly each orchid plant just became some variation on the stick. Short stick, long stick. One stick even started rooting at the top, which just proved it was just as confused as me about what it was supposed to be doing.

So each time I just threw the orchid away and started fresh. But then, about six months ago I decided to do nothing but put the most recent dead orchid on a high shelf in my home office. I ignored it, even when I saw that some of its leaves had turned brown.

And then, last week, it caught my eye. And shock of all shockers, it had a new bloom! I was so excited that I immediately sat down to Google what to do next. I found some guy who blogged that whenever he paid attention to his orchids they died, and when he ignored them they came to life. I decided this was proof I had done something right!

And then, I made a fatal mistake.

Two days ago I took the orchid out of the office and put it on the dining room table so that it could have light. And then I watered it, assuming I should treat it as I do my orchids when they're alive and blooming.

Today, my orchid blossom is brown and shrivelled up.

Sadly, I'm assuming I've killed my orchid, just as he was trying to come back to life. But I learned a very valuable lesson.

It may look like an orchid and smell like an orchid, but an orchid is just a cactus in flowery clothing.

Endings, beginnings and all things pink.

2009-04-19T19:04:00.007-04:00

I'm currently eating a pink chocolate bunny that The Hubs gave me for Easter (and which Mr. Baz guards while I'm at work). Only, the pink chocolate bunny isn't chocolate. It tastes like Quik strawberry milk. Yum.

It's an odd night. Last week I finished working at the magazine that I've walked to and from every day for nearly five years. It was a hard decision to leave my position for many reasons. It represented a very real era in my life. I spent as long there as I did in high school (only I wore a different outfit every day, not a kilt and knee socks).

I accomplished one of my life goals by accepting that job, of becoming a magazine editor before I was 30. I bought my first home, got married while I was there and changed my last name. I became a magazine publisher. I got an agent while I was there, and sold my first novel. I learned how to do a photo shoot, and how to write an editor's note. I made friends, and said goodbye to many.

And now, I'm moving on.

Tomorrow I'll start a new chapter, as Editorial Director of Sweetspot.ca. I used to be a columnist for Sweetspot.ca and have loved it since its inception so I can't wait to be a part of it. My dad and stepmom gave me a stash of pink school supplies because they are that cute.

And now, I'm eating my pink bunny.

Taxes, Revisions, Chocolate and Warriors

2009-04-13T07:00:00.002-04:00

This Easter, The Hubs and I decided to stay in the city. Thanks to the Easter Bunny's little helper (aka my amazing husband), the Easter Bunny still found us--but didn't pee on us (we were wearing something new)--and left chocolate eggs around our place.

It's much easier to sit down to revisions while eating a chocolate peanut butter egg. Yum.

Unfortunately, when I wasn't revising, I was doing my taxes. Before I met the Hubs, my dad did my taxes. Go dad!

Then the Hubs took over, but instead of just doing my taxes for me, he taught me how to do my own. Every year I'm sure I'm going to dread the day we have to sit down to do them, but in the end it's never that bad because every so often I figure out where a number comes from and I feel empowered. Taxes are actually not very hard, especially if you just follow along with last year's return and write numbers in the same lines. The trick is writing the correct numbers on the right lines.

After I attempt to write in numbers and add them up, The Hubs and I swap tax returns "to check over each other's work". It's a pointless exercise for me, since The Hubs doesn't make a mistake on his return. But for him, his time is spent punching in numbers, erasing my answers and writing in the correct answers.

"I already made a mistake?" I asked in shock two minutes into the exercise. He was only on line 1 of the return.

How hard was it to add up two T4s? I'm fairly certain there's something wrong with my calculator. It happens every single year, and only on my tax return.

"No, it's not wrong, don't worry," The Hubs reassured me (aka lied so I wouldn't feel badly).

So while The Hubs continued to erase and write, erase and write, I started cutting the pages I needed and attaching them to other pages. With all the cutting and stapling and erasing and writing, for a moment, I had this blissful thought that The Hubs and I were scrapbooking together at the dining room table.

It made it all go by much better.

Then, when we finally finished, we opened a bottle of wine and watched this show, because although it is barbaric and ridiculous, if you ask me Who Will Win: The Gladiator or the Apache? I somehow need to know.

What goes up a chimney down but can't go down a chimney up?

2009-04-09T07:00:00.003-04:00

That joke was funnier when I was 12. Ah well...

So I was using my umbrella the other day and my hair was getting wet. Which I'm pretty sure means that my umbrella is no longer keeping me dry. I still love it, but since that's really its sole purpose, I figured it may be time for a new one. And then...an email all about the cutest umbrellas ever popped into my inbox and I had to share some of their finds...

The Strawberry Shortcake umbrella...

The Twilight Umbrella...

But my personal favourite, which I found at umbrellas.com is this pink polka-dot clear umbrella.

But is it worth the exchange and shipping? Maybe it's better to just stay inside on days that it rains...

Time of my Life

2009-04-07T07:00:00.000-04:00

As part of Procrastination Week -- I mean Revision Week -- I just finished reading Time of my Life by Allison Winn Scotch. It is now one of my favourite books ever. And not just because the cover is adorable.

About the book:

From the outside view, Jillian Westfield has a pitch-perfect life. Her cherubic 18-month old daughter, her wildly successful investment banker husband, a four-bedroom, five-bath, lemon-scented home with landscaping and neighbors to match. But that doesn’t stop her from mulling over the past, from pushing away the “what ifs” that haunt her when she allows them to seep into her consciousness. What if she hadn’t married Henry? What if she hadn’t abandoned her job at the first sign of pregnancy? What if she’d never broken up with Jackson ? What if she answered her mother’s letter? Because underneath the shiny veneer of her life, Jill waddles around in a faltering marriage, brewing resentment, and an air of discontentedness.

But after an ethereal massage in which her therapist releases her blocked chi, she wakes up to discover that she’s been whisked seven years back, back to her old life, her old self, back to the moments in which she made decisions that charted her future course. And now that she’s back, she’s faced with the same roadblocks and obstacles, only this time, armed with hindsight, she can choose a different path and finally lay to rest all of her “what ifs.”

Time of My Life is much more than a story about a real life desperate housewife. Instead, it speaks to so many of our tiny, lingering doubts, the same doubts that send us googling old friends and exes or wistfully pulling out pictures of days gone by. And through Jillian’s journey, in which she rediscovers the mother who abandoned her, reacquaints herself with the strengths she once deemed important, and may literally rewrite her future, we all get a chance to peek inside the windows of our own “what ifs,” and consider if the path we took was the one that has granted us the most happiness.

The book is already a best-seller and the film rights have been sold to Nicole Eastman, who wrote the forthcoming movie, The Ugly Truth, which stars Katherine Heigl and Eric from Entourage and comes out this summer. Here's a clip. Enjoy!

I am in Revision Land...

2009-04-06T07:00:00.000-04:00

I am in Revision Land...

It's like LaLa Land, only there aren't celebrities. It's like FairyLand, only there aren't fairies. It's like CandyLand, only there is candy. Because if there were candy, I would not actually do any revisions.

I really don't like revisions. Of course, it's a necessary evil. Like, do I want my book to get published with things like "nun" when I really meant "none"? Or the word "lies" when I really meant to type "lives?" No. Because lies are evil. And so are mistakes.

Still, revising sucks.

Some authors like revising. Making things better. Making things perfect.

Not me. I hate revising. Know why? Because revising is ADMITTING I am not perfect and that the first draft of my novel was not perfect. That it had mistakes like "mercenary" when I meant "missionary". Just joking. I really don't talk about missionaries or mercenaries, but do you remember that episode of Joe Millionaire? I'd find the clip for you, but I'm supposed to be revising, not watching YouTube.

Anyway, the other day I had tea with a PR rep and she asked how the book was going.

"I'm just about to start my revisions," I told her.

"Revisions? Why do you have to do revisions?" she asked, shocked.

Exactly my point!

But it's something all writers must do. Except maybe John Grisham or Margaret Atwood or Stephen King. They probably write a perfect draft on the first time round. Or rather, revise it enough themselves before giving it to their editor.

Not me. That's not my style. I like to write one draft, call it perfect, hand it in, cross my fingers and hope for the best. Clearly my finger crossing isn't working. I'm going to have to work on that. You know, when I'm not revising.

To be honest, my editor's notes were not that bad. They were clear and thorough and filled with lots of good things to think about. And actually, I don't think the revisions will be very hard at all.

I just really have to get to actually starting my revisions. So far, I've accomplished an entire week of denial. Here's how it played out:

Monday: She hasn't sent notes. Maybe the book is perfect!

Tuesday: I've got the notes. They're not that long. Maybe the book is perfect!

Wednesday: Maybe the notes were for another author. Maybe book is perfect!

Thursday: The notes are definitely for me. It's okay. They're not that bad. Maybe the revisions will only take a day. I'll just put it off for a few more days.

Friday: It could take a few days to revise 335 pages. Maybe I should start. Tomorrow.

Saturday: I deleted a few paragraphs. Then added them back in. Then I went out for brunch.

Sunday: I did my laundry and I hate doing laundry. Then I went to a bridal shower. I love bridal showers. Then I watched Bridget Jones's Diary for the millionth time, which reminded me that Helen Fielding probably didn't write that book in one fell swoop. She probably did a revision.

And so, therefore, will I.

But not before I play this one clip...

Criss Angel and other Mind games...

2009-04-01T07:00:00.001-04:00

I'm back. I left Criss behind in Las Vegas. I know, it's shocking. But it turns out I don't like a man who disappears whenever there are dishes to be washed or kitty litter to be changed.

While we were away, my parents came up to cat-sit Mr. Baz in his own domain. Because you know, he is the master of the house. People should come to him. And so they did. They got a bottle of wine, and Mr. Baz got two suckers who fed him every time he meowed starvation.

By the time we left, I'd already given him two breakfasts and he'd eaten half of the food he was supposed to be saving for the next 24 hours until his babysitters arrived. He is now ready for UFC heavyweight division.

And The Hubs has found him his ultimate fighting competitor. He is obsessed with getting him a live mouse to play with on the patio. He says that it'll be hours of fun until Mr. Baz catches the mouse and then eats him. At this point, Mr. Baz would just have to sit on the mouse and he'd suffocate. But regardless, it's not up for discussion. Mr. Baz is not a python. We're not buying him a live mouse. It's animal cruelty!

But The Hubs won't listen, and last night before bed, as Mr. Baz was snuggling in for a long night's sleep, he whispered into his kitty ear: "Soon we're going to get you a little mouse to play with. Sweet dreams!"

The Hubs may be joking, but Mr. Baz does not realize it's a joke. So now he thinks he's getting a mouse and it's all he can meow about. Meow Mouse Meow Mouse.

Consistent messages! This is what all the parenting books say. You've got to have both parents on the same team. Team No Mouse! Now what are we going to do?

Four Things and Many Useful Tips!

2009-03-24T21:42:00.021-04:00

Last time I posted, it was like, 1994. Ross loved Rachel. And now it's practically the end of March?

I'm not sure what happened. But, I'm here to recap the month, and offer useful tips to you.

First: Happy Spring!

The first day of spring arrived. I'm still wearing my winter coat, but inside, I'm trying to make things appear balmy.

I love plants. Unfortunately, I'm not very good at remembering to water them. Tip: Plants need to be watered. Or they die.

So instead of looking at dead plants, I've been supplementing my desert-loving greenery with fresh-cut flowers. I know what you're thinking -- buying fresh flowers every week can become expensive. True!

But here's a tip: Invest in great foliage. My friend gave me a bouquet of pink gerberas with the greenery you see in the photo. The flowers lasted two weeks because I cut the stems twice a week, but this greenery is going on 5 weeks! So, once the flowers die, you can splurge on just a few more of your favourite flowers and you'll have another pretty arrangement for weeks!

Second: Happy St. Patrick's Day!

St. Patrick's Day came and went. Mr. Baz kept it refined. He is a gentleman, after all. Tip: A bowtie is an ideal fancy-shmancy way to dress up your outfit, and it's perfect on St. Patty's Day, when you're inclined to spill drinks on yourself and friends. If you only wear a bowtie, you won't ruin an outfit.

Third: Cupcakes!

For my birthday, one of my girlfriends gave me the best cupcake book ever. It's filled with recipes on how to turn your cupcakes into works of art. The only stipulation, my friend told me, was that I had to make her one of the cupcake creations. So tonight, as a thank you, I made this:

Isn't it cute? I wish I could take credit for the originality, but I can't. I just followed the recipe. Which is so simple, and I will now share with you:

1. Make mini cupcakes. Tip: Use a mix. It's easy!

2. Ice mini cupcakes using white icing. Tip: Use the kind in the tub. It's super sweet. Yum.

3. Buy package of multi-coloured mini marshmallows. Pick out the yellow ones and stick them on top of your cupcakes. Tip: Feel free to eat the pink ones to keep your strength up while decorating.

4. Buy popcorn container. Stuff with tissue paper halfway, then place mini cupcakes inside!

Voila!

Fourth: Vacation!

This weekend we're heading to Vegas. Four days of sun, cocktails, crepes, Cirque du Soleil and Criss Angel! I cannot wait. Neither can Mr. Baz. He will not get out of my suitcase.

Tip: When trying to pack for a trip, remove all animals first. Not only does it make it easier to pack without getting clawed or bitten, but also, there will be more space in your suitcase for your many pairs of shoes.

See you in a few days!

East Side Story

2009-03-19T22:07:00.004-04:00

As part of the magazine program I teach at a college on the Danforth, the students create two issues of a magazine called On the Danforth (you have to admire a magazine name that actually makes sense). I'm not sure exactly when this magazine gets made because as far as I see, the students spend all their time going to class, doing assignments without complaining, having part-time jobs, doing free internships, watching ANTM, ProRun and a whole host of other reality TV shows. I assumed they also slept at some point, but now I think perhaps not. When you're that busy, something has to give. Because somehow, between all that, they create two very impressive magazines, all on their own. After reading both issues cover to cover, I realized that I may be their teacher now, but I will likely be working for some of them in the very near future. This made me feel two things: proud -- even though I really can take no credit -- and like maybe I'm not that old after all? Hmm... maybe that's a stretch.

In any case, one of the girls in the class had read Stuck in Downward Dog and because it's set on the Danforth, she asked if I would be featured on their back page. How flattering! She interviewed me, and then she and her classmates set up a very professional photo shoot, complete with makeup artist. It ended up being one of the best makeup applications I've ever had, and I love the photo -- I'm not sure how much photoshopping went on but I'll take it, thank you, girls!

All Wrapped Up

2009-03-13T09:00:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week I got the Universal Contour Wrap – a two-hour treatment that involves you getting measured and marked (à la Nip/Tuck), then wrapped in mud-soaked tensor bandages until you practically can't breathe and then lying on a bed for an hour. Fun times.

All the Hollywood celebs were gifted it pre-Oscars and supposedly it guarantees you lose 6 inches. I actually lost 9, so it was worth the hour of discomfort. But, for it to be permanent, you have to cut out caffeine, sugar and alcohol. In other words (or at least, in my world), stop living. My pants are still loose today, but I'm guessing that my birthday weekend is going to do me in. Oh well, I like my love handles and saddlebags.

The craziest part about the wrap, though, is that ever since, I can't sleep. The esthetician said it would boost my energy, but I have a feeling I actually do need more than three hours of sleep a night. I have a million thoughts running through my head but seemingly, no ability to filter it or channel it into anything productive. I'm blaming that for the reason this post is so scattered.

Have you heard that Barbie is only $3 – its original price – all week long? It's taking all my willpower not to buy myself one. The only thing that's saving me is that I really want Kissing Barbie – and I'm not sure she still exists.

Kissing Barbie was my favourite. I got her as a birthday gift one year. Sadly, she was also everyone else at my party's favourite, and within about five minutes, before I'd even got to put her lipstick on and make her kiss me on the cheek, she was broken. She was still my favourite. One of my best friends just had a baby girl, so maybe I'll have to buy her first Barbie. Even if she has to keep it in the box for a few years.

Ooh, another thing on the detox topic: I've been using this Body Shop Pure Detox gel for the past month and I really love it because it smells amazing and makes your skin feel really good. And also because I'm all about detox regimes that don't involve me drinking cranberry juice or starving myself.

But the one problem with the gel is that it makes the shower floor so slippery so that every morning I seriously consider that this might be the morning that I actually slip, fall and get a concussion. Or break something. Or die. It's gotten to the point that I tidy up my side of the bed before having my shower, just in case something happens so that the Hubs won't have to contend with my mess while I'm in the hospital, in a body cast. It doesn't help that there have been 2 Friday the 13ths to also contend with. But this morning, as I was using it, I actually read the label closely. And then realized that nowhere on the package does it say to use it in the shower or rinse it away. Do you know why? Because it is not a shower gel. That's right. I have been using a body gel, NOT a shower gel. In the shower. Every morning. And risking my life trying to stand upright as the lotion turns the shower floor into a slip n' slide. Because I am an idiot.

I'm not a very religious person, but every year I attempt to give up something for Lent. Usually, my attempts last about 3 days before I crack. But over the years I've learned that I have to attempt to give up something that I can actually live without for 40 days. In other words, not sweets or carbs. Quitting those crutches is just not for me. Instead, this year I decided to try to walk 10,000 steps a day. I actually thought it would be pretty easy. I was wrong. It's not that 10,000 steps is that far (it's about 8 km), it's just that I realized I don't actually have any need to walk that far. It really would help if my office was a bit farther away. Or, um, if I wasn't lazy. So far I've walked 10,000 two times. I'm going to keep trying – really, given that I'm only sleeping 3 hours a night I've got an extra 5 hours to do something productive, like walk. Except that it's likely not ideal to head out for a walk at 3 am. Unless you are a lady of the evening. But then you're out walking for another reason, which likely has nothing to do with Lent.

Reality recap

2009-03-03T14:53:00.003-05:00

So last night, of course, was The Bachelor season final. Don't deny it - you watched. You're not alone: 15.5 million people watched - the highest in Bachelor finale history. I watched, and so did The Hubs. He called me last night to ask if I wanted to go out for dinner and before I could answer, added "Don't worry. I know you have to be home by 8."

When we got home, he announced as we entered our lobby, to our concierge: "Bachelor Finale!" I could've died. I guess it's proof that a bottle of wine will make anybody excited about Jason, Molly & Melissa.

I wanted to hate Jason for what he did, but then I read in People that he wanted to break up with her weeks ago, but the show wouldn't let him, because in his contract, he must appear on After the Final Rose and any development in his relationship - whether good or bad - must be revealed on the show. So he didn't really have a choice.

Then, he went on Jimmy Kimmel right after (which was awesome, right from the opening, when Jimmy gives his final rose to Donnie Wahlberg (of NKOTB, of course), then retracts it and chooses Joe instead). And on the show he explained that he knows everyone hates him for doing what he did, but it's his life and he can't stay with Melissa just because we want him to. Which is true. Anyway, Molly's more interesting and has cute outfits and a real job. Although, during the montage of all the Molly/Jason dates this season, The Hubs turned to me and pointed out:

"She wears a lot of scarves. Maybe she's not a very good department store buyer and so she has to wear all the merchandise that doesn't sell."

I liked that he was giving it so much thought. That's what I look for in a Bachelor-viewing mate.

Anyway, this was the best part of the Jimmy interview:

Jimmy: So now you're with Molly.

Jason: Yes.

Jimmy: You're really with her? Or tomorrow night is there going to be another special and we find something else weird out? Do you have the numbers of all the contestants in case you change your mind again?

Hilarious. Here's the whole interview if you, like me, feel the need to watch every single interview with Jason this week:

In other real reality, how much do you love the story of the real-life mermaid?

Speaking of people with disabilities, there's this cute couple who are blind and have seeing eye-dogs. I pass them at least weekly when I'm walking in my neighbourhood. But yesterday, I saw them and they were just walking. Holding hands. No dogs! What does this mean? They can see?

I was so excited that I wanted to clap and hug them, but then I thought that if they're still blind and have just somehow memorized their walk on Yonge Street, they might be alarmed by some random stranger they can't see mauling them with happiness. And then I'd feel horrible if they were still blind. Maybe the dogs had the day off? Who knows.

Finally, in my own reality of bringing my fictional characters to life, I have an official pub month for my next book: Love Struck. It will be out next February! Just in time for Valentine's Day. Or anti-Valentine's day. Whichever you celebrate! Either way, we've got a whole year of events, contests and giveaways lined up in anticipation, so all you need to know is that if you check back here often, you'll get free stuff from me!

And now...only 6.5 hours until we find out who the next Bachelorette is! And then, we will officially move on to talking about something else. Promise.

Hellooo? Helllooo?

2009-02-26T08:00:00.001-05:00

I'm back and before we get into anything, I just have to say that I'm a bit concerned because I just saw the Jonas Brothers movie preview and I sorta want to see the movie.

Oh dear. I don't even know the difference between the three of them, although I did learn when they were on the Ellen Degeneres show that they always have to stand and sit in that order. Which is just too weird, really. But the movie...

It's 3D!!! Can you ever really go wrong with a 3D movie? Actually, yes, and the answer is the Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana movie, which is also coming out very soon, too.

Even if that movie was in 3D I would NOT want to see it (although I DO want this dress. So cute!) And I do sort of want to know the answer to the pressing question: Is this the end of Hannah Montana? Because the movie REALLY makes it seem that way. Like from now on it's going to be all Miley all the time.

The other question I really want to know the answer to is: What is the crazy dramatic thing that's so crazy and dramatic that they can't even have a studio audience on the After the Final Rose on The Bachelor next week??? Because I cannot reveal my sources (OK I can -- this photographer I know who is so amazing and shoots in NY all the time told me) that apparently....

****SPOILER ALERT! DO NOT READ ON IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW********

Jason proposes to Melissa (which actually I already knew because of the crazy Canadian guy who figured it out and posted it on YouTube after the very first episode...note the pinky ring, which Melissa wears) but THEN, you know how after they finish filming and everyone goes back home and has to be quiet and good until the show finishes airing? Well, during that quiet-at-home-by-yourself-being-good-time Jason is not at all home by himself being quiet or being good. Oh no. You know what he's doing? Sneaking off to hook up with Molly! And apparently, she's pregnant! With his child! Out of final rose wedlock! How's that for de-flowering?

Do we believe it? I don't know what to believe.

One thing I do believe is that I loved Kathy Griffin on Privileged this week!

Seacrest, out!

It's already Wednesday!

2009-02-18T08:00:00.004-05:00

I know! This is why you come to this blog -- for breaking news like what day of the week it is!

But really, this is why I love a three-day weekend. Especially one that included both Valentine's Day and Family Day. Although I have to say, calling a holiday FAMILY DAY feels like so much pressure. Like, YOU MUST HANG OUT WITH YOUR FAMILY. Or else. Or else what? What about if your family lives 50,000 miles away? Or in another country? What then? You have to go to work? Or be sad?

And there's so much pressure to do something so extraordinary with your day off. Whereas with say, Easter Monday, well you just eat more chocolate. Or Boxing Day, you shop or play with your Christmas presents.

Anyway, I spent Family Day doing what any faithful Jason-Melissa supporter would do: watching The Bachelor. And screaming at the TV over Molly leaving her bag behind on the date. (It's the same un-reality that The City has. Have any of them ever paid a bill before leaving a restaurant?).

As for V-day, I'm usually not really into the holiday.

It's a little commercial, and I like to show the love on other days of the year instead.

So to make no big deal of the day the Hubs and I made plans with a guy friend to go out for beers (fruity cocktail for me) and ribs (pasta or pizza for me) and a movie (something with guns, martial arts, aliens or all of the above if the boys had their way). But instead, things turned out differently.

Beers (and a fruity cocktail for me)? Check.

Ribs (and poutine for me)? Check.

Movie: SHOPAHOLIC!!!!

There's nothing cuter than two boys insisting on seeing a girly movie, just because it's Valentine's Day. (Even if they did have to order a last-minute extra round of beers before we headed to the theatre).

Unfortunately, I was disappointed. I'm not going to spoil the movie if you haven't seen it, but let's just say it was way different than the book. And I really loved the book. I remember laughing on practically every page, and I just didn't laugh that many times in the movie.

After the movie was over and I relayed my disappointment, he said: Did you just not like it because Colin Firth didn't play the boyfriend?

Me: Of course not! (Totally lying).

I mean, of course Colin Firth cannot play the handsome British boyfriend in every movie.

I know that.

I do.

But this guy?

I really just could not believe him as the super-successful, super-refined, super-serious, super-rich love interest.

But this guy....

"Oh Becky Bloomwood! I love you!" Smooch. smooch. smooch. Totally believable.

I'm sorry! Sue me! Yes! I admit it! I wish Colin Firth would've been cast as Luke Brandon. He would've been perfect. (Even if he might very well be twice Isla Fisher's age. Who cares?!) All would've been perfect.

Did you see it? What did you think?

You Asked, I Answer

2009-02-09T07:00:00.004-05:00

Every so often I get emails from aspiring writers, friends, family and perfect strangers asking questions about writing, the publishing world, agents and how Mr. Baz is doing (okay that last one is a stretch, but he's doing very well, thank you very much). I'm always surprised that someone thinks that I'm an expert on anything to do with writing. Most of the time I have no clue how anything works. Really. I'm no expert. Sure, I have an agent, and a publisher and an editor and a publicist, but mostly they all take care of everything and I just sit in confusion at how it all works.

But I'm always excited when someone says they have a book idea and wants advice, and I try to answer them the best I can. So then I thought, why not give the answers here? So from time to time, I'll post questions and my responses here.

Question: I have a book idea. Can I sell the idea or do I have to write the entire book?

Good question! In my dream world, I could send my agent a quick one-line email telling her about my book idea, and she would immediately write back and tell me Fabulous idea! I'll sell it! Then, she'd email her favourite editor and tell her the idea and that editor would email back: Love it! We'll take it!

And then I'd buy myself a pretty new dress and sit down to write.

Sadly, it doesn't really work that way. When I wanted to write Stuck in Downward Dog, I had to write the entire novel. Then, I sent it out to several agents and then sat on the couch with my toes crossed eating jujubes hoping an agent would call and want to represent me. And then, one did. Hurrah! Then, I had to revise and revise and then eventually my agent sent it out to publishers and then eventually one bought it. And then I had to revise some more.

While writing my second novel, Love Struck, I was luckier. I came up with the idea and wrote a synopsis. My agent showed it to my editor. She loved it and I wrote a chapter outline and a couple of chapters and we gave it back to my editor. She and my publisher loved it and made me an offer, which was one of the best days ever. Then I bought myself a cute dress...

... hung it in the closet, put on my sweatpants and wrote the rest of my novel in a couple of weeks. This was ideal, though you do actually have to write the book, since once they've bought it, they'd ideally like for the book to come out in the next century.

For non-fiction, it's different. You really can write a proposal and not the book. Usually it's several pages long (up to 40) and includes a synopsis, table of contents, chapter outline, source list, and a bit about you as the author and why you're the best person to write the book (for example, you want to write a book about video games, and you had to write this proposal when you were supposed to be sleeping because you spend all your waking hours playing video games). Then, you submit all of the above to an agent or publisher and then hopefully get an offer, then buy yourself whatever makes you happy (such as a new video game or a pretty dress!) to celebrate and then write the book.

Have a question? Email me or leave it in the comments and I'll answer!

Winter Weekend Getaway

2009-01-30T07:00:00.005-05:00

This weekend I'm escaping the cold by going to... well, a cold destination, but where The Hubs and I will stay inside all weekend long, hopefully by a warm fire and pretend we're in Malibu. Fiji. Maui. You get the idea. We're heading to a little inn in the country. It's just a short drive, but a total escape and I have been counting down the days ever since The Hubs gave me the gift on Christmas morning. The deal was that it would be a reward once I finished writing Book 2 and my editor accepted it. Mid-December, when my agent asked me how long I thought it would take to finish writing the book, I projected sometime mid-February. At the earliest. (I can't rush my muse, I argued!). But when The Hubs gave me the gift, I practically handcuffed myself to my pink computer to finish typing.

Then I spent the rest of the break finishing the book, and handed it in nearly a month early. Yay for being done! (Except, of course, for the million revisions that are likely to come, but whatever. For now, Yay for being done!)

Note to all aspiring writers, or really, anyone who wants to meet any sort of goal or deadline: PRESENTS ARE THE BEST INCENTIVE!!!

Especially when they involve a weekend away filled with nothing to do but indoor, warm activities. However, once we decided on all our warm activities, The Hubs said:

"What if they have snowshoeing? When will we snowshoe?"

If all goes well, in our minds only while drinking wine in front of a fire. I'm really hoping they're all out of snowshoes.

A few years ago I went to an inn in the woods where there were no TVs in the rooms because you were supposed to be escaping reality. Um, my idea of escaping reality is watching reality TV! But anyway... I didn't know what to do with myself but they had snowshoes so I decided to snowshoe as I've never gone before and it seemed like one of those things I should do in my lifetime. But you know what? It looks a lot more fun than it really is. I mean, you're basically just walking. Only it's totally impossible walking because you've got tennis rackets strapped to your feet.

Oh sure, you're in nature and all that, but you're going by the nature SOOOOO slowly that it's not that exciting. I mean, if you were cross-country skiing, you'd be whizzing by, and see a lot of trees and well...what else are you going to see in the middle of winter besides snow-covered trees?

Stare at this picture for 10 minutes. That's what it's like when you're snowshoeing. Nothing changes. Now multiply that by a bazillion.

So yes, if you were on skis, you'd see a lot of trees. But because you're walking, well, nothing's really happening, except you're sort of staring down a lot at your feet to make sure you don't trip over the tennis rackets and fall face-down in the snow.

Not that THAT happened to me. Um. I'm just saying.

Also, when I asked where I should go snowshoeing, the lady at the front desk said I should probably just stick to the backyard of the inn. The backyard? How fun is that? I wanted adventure! Woods! Nature at its most undisturbed! I wanted to see deer! Bunnies! An abominable snowman! So instead I walked -- er, I mean, snowshoed -- to the end of the property and then, instead of turning around and coming back, I continued onto a path. Only the path wasn't really a path, it was a road, and then that road turned into the highway, and the only way to get back was to take the highway all the way around to the front of the inn.

Okay, that wasn't the ONLY option. Obviously the other option was to turn around and backtrack. But did I do that? No. I didn't because I have this real problem with backtracking (Note: Backtracking=good. Not backtracking=bad because if you're like me you'll inevitably get lost). In the end it took me like an hour to get all the way around the inn to the entrance and I took the snowshoes off (because just a side note, there is NO point wearing snowshoes when you're walking on a gravel path on the side of the highway) and carried them back to the inn.

So technically, I could probably improve upon my snowshoeing techniques this weekend (especially because The Hubs is very practical and would always think to take the best route back, ie. the one through a snowy forest and not a gravelly highway and he probably wouldn't be talking to his snowshoes and scare away all the potentially live animals).

But now that there is actually a lot of snow outside, The Hubs has also lost interest in doing anything outside. Thank. God. Besides, we really can't cut into any of the really fun indoor, warm activities we have planned, like wine tasting, afternoon tea, and best of all spa treatments.

When The Hubs asked what I wanted to book at the spa, I told him a massage and a pedicure, which are my two favourite treatments. (One to make you feel relaxed and one to make you feel pretty.)

So then he booked both and the same for himself. Seriously, who needs to go snowshoeing when they have a boy who will get a pedicure with you?

When Obstacles Get You Down

2009-01-28T07:00:00.003-05:00

While cleaning the other day, I found a note that my dad sent me years and years ago, when I was floundering in life: I'd finished university but waffling, unsure what to do, knowing I wanted to be an author but thinking it was an unachievable dream, and wanting to work at a magazine but believing my instructors at university who told us that it was impossible to get a job on staff. Instead of telling me to get a secure job doing something--anything--that paid the bills, he sent me this inspirational article.

When Obstacles Get You Down

Is rejection part of your business life? Do setbacks and apparent failures destroy your self confidence? Do obstacles get you down when you're trying to get something done?

* After Fred Astaire's first screen test, a 1933 memo from the MGM testing director said "Can't act. Slightly bald. Can dance a little." Astaire kept that memo over the fireplace in his Beverly Hills home.

* An expert said of famous football coach Vince Lombardi: He possesses minimal football knowledge. Lacks motivation."

* Louisa May Alcott, the author of Little Women, was advised by her family to find work as a servant or seamstress.

* Beethoven handled the violin awkwardly and preferred playing his own compositions instead of improving his technique. His teacher called him hopeless as a composer.

* The teacher of famous opera singer Enrico Caruso said Caruso had no voice at all and could not sing.

* Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper for lacking ideas. He also went bankrupt several times before he built Disneyland.

* Eighteen publishers turned down Richard Bach's 10,000-word story about a soaring seagull before Macmillan finally published it in 1970. By 1975, Jonathan Livingston Seagull had sold more than seven million copies in the US alone.

At the time, I remember feeling hopeful. Now, finding this note years later (when I'm in the midst of realizing my dreams) I feel confident that anyone, that means you, reading this!, can achieve your dreams, if you just work hard and believe in yourself.

Mr. Baz's TV debut

2009-01-26T07:00:00.002-05:00

Mr. Baz is going to be a TV star!

This weekend we went to a studio so that Mr. Baz could be a part of a documentary that's going to air on TV in a few months.

What is the name of the documentary?

Cat Ladies.

Only, for some reason, everyone keeps calling it Crazy Cat Ladies.

Which, when my good friend heard about this Crazy Cat Ladies production, tipped off the director of the documentary that she had a friend (me) who may or may not (may) dress up her cat every chance she gets.

That's crazy?! Doesn't everyone dress their cat up at some point?

Apparently not, because Mr. Baz was the final cat of the day, and everyone kept telling me how I was the only one who brought their cat dressed up. The only one? Now that's crazy. To me, at least.

"Is it to keep him warm?" the makeup artist (for me, not Mr. Baz. I'm not that crazy that I'd put eyeliner on him) asked me curiously, eyeing Mr. Baz in his Chinese New Year jacket, while he was still inside his carrying bag.

"Um. No," I said.

Obviously she had not seen Mr. Baz in all his glory because if she had she wouldn't worry about him keeping warm. I mean, he's not exactly petite.

Which, to be honest, was quite evident when I changed him into his Valentine's Day sweater for the camera (Of course he has a Valentine's Day sweater. I mean, am I only supposed to dress him up once a year?! Now that's crazy. Especially when he loves dressing up!). Anyway, his V-day sweater may be more of a belly shirt than a full-on sweater. Which, when everyone saw him in it, made them start laughing and I had to tell Mr. Baz we weren't laughing at him. We were laughing with him, because he's just so cute. He's just not as svelte as he was in his younger days. But who is, really?

Actually, I was a bit concerned that our on-camera time was going to be about two seconds, because all the other women who went before me were apparently telling totally sappy stories about their cats. But I didn't really have any sappy stories to tell, unless I was going to talk about when Mr. Baz had to have an operation on his privates because he had crystals and couldn't pee and he had to stay overnight after the surgery and The Hubs went to visit him and stayed for hours and talked to him and the vet thought we were totally crazy and had to tell us that visiting hours were over and that we should go home and get some rest (even though I'm almost positive they don't even have visiting hours and he was totally making that up). Obviously I wasn't going to tell that story because that would mean talking about Mr. Baz's wee-wee on national television, and that's just not fair to him.

And also, the other women also seemed to talk not only about their cat but about all the cats they'd ever had in their entire lifetime and even cats that aren't theirs, like, their parents' cats or their friends' cats or random cats they see in the street, and I'm really only obsessed with Mr. Baz.

Which may have come out slightly wrong, because when the director asked me why I love all cats so much, I had to say that I don't really like other people's cats and that my friend has a theory about OPB: Other People's Babies and I sort of have the same theory about OPC: Other People's Cats. I mean, I actually find "cat talk" rather boring. Which they thought was totally hilarious. And then I had to beg that they cut that part out, to which the director stopped laughing just long enough to say, "Um. No." And then started laughing again. So, now I'm going to come across as not only crazy but also a jerk. Yikes.

Coffee, Tea or a Vanilla Rooibos Latte

2009-01-22T07:00:00.001-05:00

Everyone's talking Obama, but what can I add that's of any news or interest? Nothing, although I loved his speech. So instead, I'm talking tea. Although I didn't make new year's resolutions, one of the deals I made with myself was that I would spend less money on chai lattes at Starbucks and Timothy's, and then, with the extra cash I saved, I could treat myself to say, a massage, a new pair of shoes, or um, a latte at Starbucks. Ha.

And for the first week of the year I did amazingly well. Not one single latte.

And then, I went to Starbucks. And I saw, on the chalkboard, the words: Vanilla Rooibos Latte.

What is that? I thought. Because I LOVE Vanilla and I LOVE non-coffee lattes.

And then, I remembered, a few months ago, while reading Freedom 33.5, which is a blog about a girl who was trying to become debt-free (and has now succeeded. Yay Tammy!), I read a post about the London Fog latte, which at the time she said you had to ask for because it's not actually on the menu.

And then I saw, on that same chalkboard was the London Fog latte, as well as the Berry Chai Infusion (Has anyone tried the Berry Chai? Is it good?) and a few other items. And I was going to order the London Fog, but I really could not pass up the idea of a new vanilla drink, so I ordered the Vanilla Rooibos. And I fell in love. Not more in love than I am with Jason the Bachelor, but definitely more than I did when I had the Timothy's Chai Latte (which is much better than Starbucks, even though it's waaaaay more calories because it's a mix, so it's like having hot chocolate for breakfast. Um, maybe not so nutritious.).

Anyway, I loved the Vanilla Rooibos latte, and how bad could it really be -- it's Vanilla Rooibos tea and milk, right? Except it tastes so good I'm pretty sure there HAS to be something else in it.
So anyway, I could not stop thinking about the Vanilla Rooibos Latte and so the next day I had to have another. And then the third day, well, I had to have another, which meant I was REALLY not doing well on my mission to not spend so much money on lattes. But come on, it's not as though I can buy a pair of shoes for $4, right? (Just FYI, that is ridiculous logic to follow. Don't follow it. Because obviously the point is not to buy a $4 pair of shoes every day instead). But in the moment, I made a deal with myself: I could go to Starbucks, but I was not allowed to order the Vanilla Rooibos a third day in a row. (How is this even a compromise? I'm still spending money!). So then I remembered the London Fog and thought, I should order that, only I didn't remember what Tammy said was in it, and I hate to be disappointed in a beverage.

So I asked the barista: "What's in the London Fog?"

And he said: "Vanilla".

Now, any normal person would've been like "There's Vanilla Rooibos and Vanilla? That seems sort of odd."

But me? No, I just nod and order the London Fog anyway (Side note: Maybe THAT should've been my non-new year's resolution-vow -- asking people questions in my head when I'm too shy to, because clearly the whole "Spending Less at Starbucks and Timothy's resolution is not working out very well).

Anyway, I took one sip of the London Fog and I was like, "This is DEFINITLY not Vanilla." But did I say it out loud? No. Why not? I totally could've gone back to the barista and said, "You said this was vanilla, and it's not."

But anyway, I decide to drink it because it wasn't terrible, it just wasn't vanilla. And for the next twenty minutes I try to figure out what the flavour is, until, hello! I wake up and remember that it's a tea bag in a cup of milk. So I look at the tea bag tag and see that it's Earl Grey tea. Which, had I reconsulted Tammy's blog I would've known.

And I do love Earl Grey. But I do not love the London Fog as much as I love the Vanilla Roibos. I love it so much I want another one now.

I'm telling you. If you try it, you will have an addiction. A $20-a-week addiction. But what I don't understand is WHAT IS IN THIS CUP THAT IS MAKING ME SO ADDICTED? CRACK??

No, it can't be that. Crack is whack. Whitney even said so, remember?

So what is it? Someone, anyone, please tell me!

The City in Review

2009-01-19T07:00:00.001-05:00

So, since I'm obsessed with all things The City, I've been emailing my friend Jay-Rock in NYC about the show with questions, as I mentioned in last week's post, such as:

"Did I eat at Stanton Social?"

To which he somehow remembered that yes, I'd eaten there two years ago on a press junket. But then I had so many more pressing questions and so did my friends, so I was madly emailing him and then emailing my friends to report back. So, then I thought, why keep all the secrets to The City to myself? So every Monday in anticipation of the show, I'm going to give you, my loyal blog-readers, the rundown. Jay-Rock's answers in purple.

My first obsession, of course, was Whitney's apartment. Now, I have friends and relatives who live in New York and I've seen their apartments. For the record, an apartment like the one Monica & Rachel had on Friends does not even exist in the city. Because if it was that big it would be called a penthouse and wouldn't be painted purple. Anyway, most people have an apartment the size of Whitney's head. Originally Jay-Rock said that the apartment would be about $2,500-3,500 US. Last week, he took that back:

Whitney's apartment is probably closer to $4500. The camera angles hide just how big it is, but it's a high corner apartment with lots of windows in a new building. It ain't cheap.

Is Gramercy one of the more expensive places to live in the city?

Gramercy is pricing, but no more than other areas. Probably a bit less than the West Village or definitely less than places in the east or west sides near central park. It's on par with Tribeca. Didn't see enough of Erin's place to pass judgment, but probably similar. Looked like there was an outside shot of the building, which was a new luxury building.

Let's talk restaurants, bars and diners:

a) Caffe Falai -- where Whitney and Erin meet for breakfast before work. Is it totally reasonable that she went here before work -- on her way from Gramercy to the Meat Packing District?

Never been but walked by. Reasonably chic, but not a "hot spot". But enough style and comparatively low key that it is a makes for a good place for the Whitney's of the world to go. Location is definitely not on the way from Gramercy to Meat Packing, but not so far out of the way either. In Gramercy go straight down 3rd, just south of Houston will get you to Falai. Then it's straight west to the river and north to work.

b) The Diner (where Whitney and the accounting guy go for lunch). What's the scoop?

Never been, never heard good things about it. Fancy comfort food for the Meat Packing crowd. Meaning it's a place to avoid. For context, most holier-than though Manhattanites (meaning anyone who wants to project an air of cool indifference above it all while complaining how the city is not what it used to be) would now view the Meat Packing District with some disdain. It was edgy and interesting 10-15 years ago. But on Fri and Sat nights it's packed with skanky-looking bridge and tunnel crowd. Better on weeknights, but then it's full of model/scene people. A lot of the restaurants in the area are big, over-the-top places where it's as much about the scene and vibe as the food. Keep all this in mind when assessing anything on the show set in the MPD.

Do you have burning questions about the show you want to know the answers to? Email me and I'll find out the answers by next week!

meme, meme, meme...

2009-01-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

A meme. Feel free to leave your own answers in the comments.

1. What's the last TV show you saw?
The Bachelor. I'd long given up on this show, but this season, I'm back. Because of Jason.

02. What are you wearing at the moment?
A white t-shirt, grey loungerama pants and fuzzy blue socks.

03. Favorite Song of the Moment?
Reign O'er Me. The Pearl Jam version. I desperately want to see the movie, but the man with whom I reside who shall remain nameless will not allow it into the home. Hmph.

04. What is your favorite scent?
Gingerbread. I'm assuming I was supposed to say something sophisticated like Vera Wang but whatever. I love gingerbread.

05. What's your occupation? What do you do there?
I'm a writer at my pink laptop. I write stories that are lies, all lies. I'm an editor at a magazine. I try to edit stories that are not lies. I'm a teacher at a college. I attempt to teach students who have paid a lot of money something useful and interesting so they don't fall asleep in class or throw things at me.

06. What do you drink the most?
Club soda. I'm pretty sure that's not sexy, but I'm bringing Canada Dry back.

07. What is your favorite restaurant?
In the world? The Cliff in Barbados. It's on a cliff over the water. For takeout Italian, I love Amato. Their motto is: Eat More Amato. That's my new year's resolution.

08. What will you be doing after finishing this?
I will write some more lies.

09. What did you want to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a writer.

10. Your favorite romantic movie?
On Golden Pond. I cry a little just thinking about it.

11. What's the least favorite thing about yourself?
I have the shortest attention span in the world. I have to be doing 17 things at once, which makes it very difficult to do things that require my full attention.

13. What are your ideal qualities in a novel?
I like it when I cannot stop reading it, because I want to know what happens next.

14. What time do you usually go to bed?
Lights out: 11 pm.

15. What's the meaning behind your LJ username/name/nicknames you go by?
My LJ name is chantels, which is obviously my first name, last initial, not an indication that I have multiple personality disorder. My ebay name is mittensncats because I love both these things.

Happily Ever After. The End.

Cooking with Fire

2009-01-13T07:00:00.002-05:00

So, the other night was my bookclub meeting and we all bring a dish inspired by the book of the month. As I mentioned in an earlier post, this month's pick was Tess of the D'Urbervilles, of which I read the first chapter. But man, that was a good first chapter. It's not that Tess isn't a page turner, it's just that um, I didn't get around to turning the pages. (Hello -- The Bachelor, The City, Criss Angel. There`s never enough time, is there...). So unfortunately, in the first 10 pages, they didn't eat anything, so I wasn't sure what to make.

At the same time, I discovered that my good friend Ryan, co-writer of Entertaining with Booze, which I contested-off at the holidays, had started a blog! And in the blog, he had an excellent post on how to pass off carton soup as your own! My kind of cooking! So I asked him if he had a quick cheat for my bookclub and he posted this recipe for Yorkshire Puddings, which couldn't have been more perfect since Tess is set in England. So I'm sure, somewhere between page 200 and 800 she probably ate a Yorkshire Pudding.

And Ryan swore this not-from-scratch recipe would take me less than 20 minutes. Though, to be honest, I was stil a bit intimidated by it, but I wanted to give it a go. Except, the Rabba did not have Yorkshire Puddings and that's the whole easy-way-out of this recipe, so I had two choices: venture to another grocery store, or not make the recipe. So because it was the day before my "fruit-and-flower"-themed anniversary with my husband and I wanted to also make him turnovers, one of his favourite snacks, as part of his present, but it was something that I'd never attempted before PLUS the dish for book club and I only had 1 hour, I had to sadly forgo the Yorkshire Puddings, but I'm planning to make them when I host because then I can serve them warm. So then the only task will be choosing a Brit-based book. Any suggestions?

So instead, I made this Potato Salad with Haricots Verts, Roquefort and Walnuts, which was SO easy, and really, surely Tess ate a potato during the book, even if she didn't have Roquefort with it.

The only real dilemma was the Mustard Vinaigrette, for which there was no recipe, I'm guessing because you're just supposed to know how to make Mustard Vinaigrette. Oops. And I had to ask the Hubs if haricots verts were really just a snooty way of saying green beans, to which he replied, "In your case, yes." Translation: "You're not going to find haricots verts at the Rabba, so buy some green beans."

Anyway, then I made these fruit turnovers, which were SO easy to make.

In addition to apple, I made cherry and blueberry too (which is TOTALLY cheating because instead of making them from scratch you just use canned pie filling!). But, they're totally gratifying to make because they seriously take 5 minutes of prep and then 20 minutes to bake and they're all golden and gorgeous. I made an icing for the top, too, which looked even prettier. And then I left for bookclub and the Hubs ate the turnovers for his dinner, which was a sign they were a success.

So, all in all, not Yorkshire Puddings, but they did just fine.

Surprises you might find when you clean...

2009-01-09T07:00:00.001-05:00

I was cleaning my craft closet and I came across a faded keepsake box that inside, contained a myriad of keepsakes, including (shame!) an unfinished Bachelorette Party album for one of my best friends. When I'd thrown her the party, I'd put out a guest book, where each of her friends could use a page to write messages to her. Then, I'd develop the pix from the evening's shenanigans and put them on the appropriate page. Apparently, I never got around to that part and I completely, totally forgot about the entire plan. It's now two computers and two cameras later and I have no idea where those pictures may be--if I was still using a regular camera at the time (which I'm sure I was), wouldn't I have developed that roll of film? I don't have any random rolls of film laying around. So then, where are the photos? I have no idea. And given that my friend has now been married for almost five years and her second child is three months old today, it's not likely I'm going to find them.

I thought about sending her the scrapbook anyway, without the pictures, but perhaps that would just highlight what a horrible bridesmaid I am.

I'm undecided, so I just put the album back where I found it. I wonder how many years will pass before I look in that box again and wonder what to do?

A New Year...

2009-01-07T08:00:00.001-05:00

Well, it's January 7. I'd say that my new year's resolution to update this blog more regularly is going smashing well, wouldn't you?

Ha! I did not MAKE that new year's resolution. Why? Because I inevitably break all my resolutions, so really, it's better to just have none. That way you have more time for other things, such as:

New TV Shows

Are you watching THE NEW BACHELOR with Jason?

Oh my God, do you love him? And what about when DeAnna returns?

Ahhh! Drama!

PS Obviously we could've told her the novelty of that snowboarding dude would've worn off.

Really! What was she thinking?

I'm also watching The City, which is officially my new favourite show. Seriously, what is not to love about Whitney? Actually, I'll tell you what: those crazy culotte shorts she's been wearing on every episode.

Those are not sexy or cute. Please stop wearing them! Just wear a short skirt! But I am loving everything else: Social Olivia Palermo, her cousin, the boys, the job, the setting. The last time I was in NY on a junket, I even ate the Stanton Social, where they ate on this week's episode! Could you imagine if it would've been the same night they were filming?! Sadly, I did not see Jay.

Anyway, I haven't just been watching TV...

Not So New Books

I've also been reading. I just discovered Jane Green. Do you know her? She is the best-selling author of a bunch of books like Jemima J., Mr. Maybe, Swapping Lives (which is strangely similar to The Holiday with Kate Winslet and Cameron Diaz). But the one I'm reading is The Other Woman, which is about an engaged couple.

The other woman? The mother in law. It's so good.

And Twilight. I succumbed. I'm only on Chapter 1 though...

And also, Tess of the d'Ubervilles.

This is the book I'm supposed to be reading for my book club, but I just CANNOT get into it. I realize it's a classic and good for me and all that, but it's just SOOOO boring. Is that terrible? Who cares. If I'd made any new year's resolutions, they would've had to do with the fact that there's only so many things you can do that are good for you. Right now I'm working on trying to floss my teeth more often. And the rest, well I just can't feel guilty for not doing things I don't want to do. Anyway, I bought the book--and paid like $11 in a used bookstore for it because it was the only copy left and it was an original or close to--so I've done my part for the publishing industry this week. And it's a very pretty book, so I have it on my nightstand, with other pretty books that I like to look at, but not touch.

Speaking of classics, I've also been watching some good old movies lately.

Not New At All Movies

Twelve Angry Men: I love a good court movie, and this one's a classic. It stars Henry Fonda (who I love. On Golden Pond is my all-time favourite movie). It's surprisingly captivating, given that all but 3 minutes of the movie take place in a tiny room. So you're really just staring at twelve angry men yell at each other for an hour and a half.

Rebel Without a Cause.

I'd never seen this, and I was totally surprised. I thought it was going to be more like, well, Grease, to be honest (without the singing). It wasn't. That's all I'm going to say.

The Shining: I've seen this a million times but The Hubs never had, and there's no better way to start the year than with a little Tony and redrum.

Saw III.

Really, after Saw II I swore I would never see another of these movies, but then Saw III was on TV and so I taped it, which was a huge mistake because after watching it, I couldn't sleep for like three hours, and so I had to watch all my taped episodes of Chris Angel: Mindfreak.

I have no idea why, but I TOTALLY love him and I have already convinced The Hubs that we have to go to Vegas so that I can meet him. We're in negotiations. My stepsister is there right now as we speak and is going to see his show, so I told her to let him know I'm coming. She said she's see. She didn't even WANT to see his show! Can you even imagine? It's really beyond my comprehension, in the same way as I have no idea how someone could have possibly thought that Bromance was a good idea.

Oh, well, 10 guys in a hot tub?

Maybe it's not that bad...

Happy New Year!

2009-01-02T12:40:00.002-05:00

Mr. Baz's Uncle Jay-Rock in New York sent him this outfit for Christmas. He loves it. Oh yes he does...

I, on the other hand, might have preferred snaps, rather than the oh-so-fancy polyester loops. I feel like I just wrangled a croc. But wasn't it worth it?

And the winner is...

2008-12-31T07:43:00.000-05:00

The Entertaining with Booze contest is officially closed and I have chosen a winner. But, before I tell you who it is, I want to explain how I chose this winner. Because I wanted it to be totally random and fair (and because I cannot at all be trusted to do so), I had to enlist the help of my assistant, Mr. Baz.

And he came up with a brilliant idea, so that I would not cheat.

Here's what we did: First, we took pieces of paper and cut them into squares. Then we wrote the names down of everyone who left a comment on the blog. Then, we wrote down all the names of the people who emailed their entry. (I mostly did this, while Mr. Baz invigilated the process).

Then, we went to Mr. Baz's treat cupboard, which is where he keeps all his snacks that he got from Santa. And we chose a bag of Temptations.

Then, we took one Temptation and put it on top of each square of paper and then folded the paper around the cat treat. Then, I was going to put all the treat papers into a fish bowl filled with water so that Mr. Baz could fish for one, as though each paper-wrapped fish-flavoured Temptation were really little fish...

...but then Mr. Baz reminded me that if we put the papers in water the ink would run and we wouldn't be able to read the winner. So instead, I hid the treat papers around the entire house and let Mr. Baz go to it. And the one he opened first was...

Cavan!

Congratulations, Cavan!

Now, my work is done, but Cavan, your work has just begun. What you need to do is send me an email to chantel (at) chantelsimmons.com, telling me who you want the book to be dedicated to or if you want any special message (or just want Ryan & David to write whatever their little boozy brains desire), and your mailing address. Then, Ryan & David will sign the book and their publicist will ship it off to you!

Thanks to:

-Whitecap Books for donating the books for the contest
-Meisner Publicity for arranging everything
-Everyone who entered
-Mr. Baz for randomly choosing a winner
-and of course, Ryan Jennings & David Steele, for writing the most fabulous hostess cookbook ever!

Last chance to make your New Year's Resolutions...

2008-12-29T12:56:00.003-05:00

Or eat more chocolate. Whichever's easier.

My dad said that if you haven't made your New Year's Resolutions by mid-November, it's too late for you.

Too late? Aren't New Year's Resolutions supposed to start in the New Year? Did I miss a memo?

But then I got to thinking about it, while eating chocolate-covered peanuts from Manitoba Santa that I am addicted to (To be honest, when I got them I wasn't really all that excited because I'm not a huge fan of peanuts and definitely not Glosettes and so I was fairly certain that I would not even eat one single chocolate covered peanut. But then I tried one. And then I realized that I was always thinking of Glosette Peanuts as chocolate-covered peanuts and saying I didn't like them, which is basically like thinking of salmon from a can or crab as the stuff in california maki or burgers from McDonald's and saying you don't like those things either). Anyway, real chocolate-coated peanuts are actually very yum. The package is practically empty, so clearly I do like them alot.

Right, so I got to thinking about the resolutions and maybe it's the fact that you need a bit of time to work yourself into the frame of mind that you're going to be able to conquer the resolution in the New Year, which is why you need to make the resolution back in November? Which, come to think of it, is sort of like the chocolate covered peanuts, because I didn't think I'd eat them but after a few days, I brought myself around to trying one. I mean, come on, they were chocolate after all, and if I have any pre-New Year's Resolutions on the holidays it's to eat as much chocolate as possible. So far so good with that resolution.

Now the only problem is that I'm almost out of chocolate-covered peanuts and the package says they're from The Peanut Shop in Williamsburg, Pennsylvania. I just checked Yahoo Maps and apparently Williamsburg is 701 miles away. Or 11 hours and 28 minutes.

I should probably use that time to make New Year's Resolutions. Like eat less chocolate.

Anyway, say your New Year's Resolution is to eat more! Or to drink more! Or to entertain more! Well then you're set, because you officially have 2 days left to enter to win Entertaining with Booze! I'll announce a winner on December 31.

Happy Holidazing!

Holiday Giveaway!!

2008-12-18T09:17:00.003-05:00

So the holiday bake shop is closed this year, because I am on a writing deadline (more on that in the new year!) and, as though reading my little Betty Crocker mind, my agent called the other day to say that she had not received my box of holiday baked goods yet, and that, if I had not baked them I should take off my oven mitts and return to my pink laptop.

So here I am, not baking, while visions of gingerbread men dance through my head. It is sad, because I love to bake, and I got the most adorable Martha Stewart boxes to give away my Christmas cookies...

Seriously. Could these be any cuter?

... but I will not be using them, because I have to learn that I cannot do it all and do it well. So there will be no gingerbread men running around my house.

But perhaps YOU are not on a writing deadline and are looking for some inspiring new recipes to try out over the holidays! If so, then here's your chance to win a copy of my friend Ryan Jennings and his partner-in-the-kitchen David Steele's latest book, Entertaining with Booze.

Designer Drinks, Fabulous Food and Inspired Ideas for your Next Party

It's the followup to Cooking With Booze, which came out a couple of years ago and which I gave to everyone I knew because it's the perfect hostess, birthday or holiday gift. But now, I'm obsessed with Entertaining with Booze, because it's not just a book full o' recipes. Oh no. It's PARTY-THEMED!! That's right. Ryan and David have devised 31 soiree ideas–from the Spread The Cheese Party (my personal fave) to the It's All About Me evening–complete with menu and signature cocktail recipes.

Want to win your very own copy so you can start planning your puppy's first birthday bash?

I'm giving you a chance to win your very own copy, which Ryan and David will personally dedicate to you, your grandma or your pet turtle.

I'll be giving away TWO copies of the book. For your first chance to win, send me an email to chantel (at) chantelsimmons.com or leave a message in the comments. For your second chance, head over to my new website, iheartintoronto.com for a sneak peek at Ryan's favourite recipe. Leave a comment, and you'll get another chance to win!

Happy Cocktail-Making!

Staycation...All I Ever Wanted

2008-12-10T07:00:00.006-05:00

For the past week I've been on Staycation.

What did I do on my Staycation, you ask?

Well, I will tell you. Because I lead such a fabulously exciting life:

I marked papers for school.

And went to the doctor.

Sadly, he did not look like this.

Then I read the article in Toronto Life about Ashley Madison -- you know, the cheaters' version of Lavalife? The slogan is "Life is Short. Have an Affair. And then I became a paranoid wife. Thanks, Toronto Life! Then I hid the issue from The Hubs so he doesn't get any ideas. Then I made cupcakes and pumpkin bread because a fat husband is a happy husband, right? Right, people?

I also invited the Rogers phone guy into my home because our phone was not working. At which point he told me, Your phone doesn't work. You need a new one. Oh hmm... That's what I get for buying a US phone at Target. And how can I return it when I threw out the receipts so the border guy wouldn't make me pay duty? (Just kidding, Super Customs Men! I would never ever do that.) So then I bought a new phone at Best Buy. You can tell there's a recession by going into Best Buy. It was a ghost town. I couldn't even find the cash desk because there was no lineup. The only lineup was at the Returns desk.

I also invited the plumber into the house. Our ongoing shower problems have now reached a four-week record and he still didn't solve the problem. Instead, he told me to rinse my shower head with vinegar, which seems very suspicious, even if I did as I was told. I mean, what do I know about plumbing? I can't even understand the Plumbing for Dummies book.

On the same day, our bed mysteriously half-broke when I was making it. Note to all wives: When the bed somehow decides to break, it should not be on the same day that you stay home because the plumber is coming over to fix your shower. It will look very suspicious to your husband, trust me. Especially if the plumber leaves and the shower is not fixed. Even if you tell your husband that the plumber was 65 and bald. Ew.

But you know what I missed while on my Staycation? Meeting TOM CRUISE at one of the beauty events I didn't go to because I was at home with the plumber. Okay, I know he's sort of crazy and everything, but I had the HUGEST crush on him during his Top Gun days and sometimes I just can't get over that.

IceMan: "I don't like you because you're dangerous."
Maverick: "That's right. Ice. Man."

Now if the plumber had looked like that... I'm kidding, people! Sheesh.

But now, sadly, the exciting Staycation has come to an end and it's back to work. Which isn't that bad--it's almost Christmas! Which means everyone is sending chocolates and beauty products that I don't have to write about but can just use for fun. Who can complain about that?

I have whiplash and sore muscles but I am alive...

2008-12-04T15:00:00.000-05:00

Last weekend we went to Tremblant, and because I have not skiied in more than six years and have the memory of an antelope, I decided that I am just SO good at skiing that it would be impossibly boring for me to ski while my husband learned, and so, I should snowboard.

#1. I should not snowboard. Because

#2. I am not 18 or cool.

#3. I am not as fit as I think I am.

#4. I have only snowboarded about 3 times. And

#5. I have the memory of an antelope so I did not remember that those other 3 times were p-a-i-n-f-u-l because... refer to items #1 through #5. Repeat.

But anyway, I snowboarded. Or rather, I strapped my feet into a snowboard, then proceeded to stand, move five inches, fall onto knees, hit my fist into the ground, stand, move five inches, fall backwards onto my butt and slam head into side of mountain, cry a little bit. Repeat for 5 hours then drown sorrows in bottle of wine.

Meanwhile my husband and brother-in-law bonded on the slopes.

Skiing is a breeze!

On day 2, I awoke full of pain. Everything hurt. But I decided that magically overnight I had osmosed everything I needed to know to be a first-rate boarder and so, I tried again. I did one run in the same fashion as I did on day 1, then proceeded to swiftly swap my board for skis. I had to rent skis though because when I went to my dad's to get all my ski gear he allowed me to take my ski outfit and boots, but prohibited me from taking my skis from the premises.

He: "Oh no you don't."

Me: "Why not? I like my skis." I was sure he would be thrilled that the hundreds of dollars he'd spent on all my equipment would be put back into use after such a long hiatus.

He: "No one has skis like that anymore."

Me: "They DON'T?"

He was right. When I went into the rental shop to get my skis, the rental guy asked me what length I wanted.

"185," I said confidently, sure that despite six years off, I could still manage my race-team length skis. I'd show that hill that I may not be able to snowboard, but I could still ski.

The rental guy started laughing at me. "They don't MAKE 185s anymore. Your skis must be OLD. They only go up to 175 now, and that's for experts."

"Oh," I said sheepishly, slunking down into my pink neckwarmer. "I'll take whatever then."

I couldn't have been happier to be back in skis.

Me, minus the bikini and blonde hair.

And because he's so sweet, the Hubs couldn't stop saying how amazing a skier I was. That is the glory of skiing on green circles with your husband who has never even see a ski mountain let alone been on one before -- everyone looks like a pro if they're not snowplowing. The Hubs of course, didn't realize that. He's a keeper, that one.

100 Notable Books of 2008

2008-11-27T12:39:00.002-05:00

Oh how I love a book list. The New York Times has their top 100 Notable books of 2008. A little premature, but not many books are left to debut this year.

Note: I would agree, these are NOTABLE, not necessarily the BEST books of the year. Otherwise, where is David Sedaris? Malcolm Gladwell? Sophie Kinsella? Emily Giffin? Also the Hubs is reading a book about a guy who was an undercover Hell's Angel. And it's awesome from what I've read. I mean, why not that book?

Anyway... it is a sad excuse because of all these notables, I've read two. TWO! Sad but true.

AMERICAN WIFE. By Curtis Sittenfeld. (Random House, $26.) The life of this novel’s heroine — a first lady who comes to realize, at the height of the Iraq war, that she has compromised her youthful ideals — is conspicuously modeled on that of Laura Bush.

BEAUTIFUL CHILDREN. By Charles Bock. (Random House, $25.) This bravura first novel, set against a corruptly compelling Las Vegas landscape, revolves around the disappearance of a surly 12-year-old boy.

How many have you read?

Gobble, gobble...

2008-11-24T21:24:00.000-05:00

It's almost US Thanksgiving and you know what that means...

Run for your lives, turkeys!

This is why you should travel to another country on your own country's holidays. That way you can save the Holiday Animal!

On Canadian Thanksgiving, I tried to do my part by going to Cape Cod. Because it was not American Thanksgiving, there were no turkeys on menus. Instead, we ate more lobsters than I can count. Okay, I'll count anyway...

First: The lobsters in their swimming pool. Swim Lobsters, Swim!

Sadly, they all didn't get away. And thus, they became...

Lobster ravioli.

Lobster Panini.

Whole lobster with lemon and butter.

Stuffed Lobster.

Lobster Newburg.

Lobster Roll.

Actually, I feel a little bit sad about all the lobsters that died on my trip. But, at least I saved the turkeys! In fact, the turkeys were not worried at all. As we were driving back from the Cape in the dark, my friend suddenly screamed and slammed on the breaks.

I thought for sure she'd just seen an axe murderer and we were all going to die. But instead, on the road was a gaggle (a goggle? a herd? a pack?) of turkeys! Look hard... it's dark out.

Turkey crossing.

Eventually, the turkeys moved to the other side of the road, but it just goes to show how peaceful all the animals are when they know they're not about to be eaten. I mean, you wouldn't see this many turkeys flitting about the day before Canadian Thanksgiving in Canada, would you?

So this weekend, if you are American, I strongly encourage you to flee your country and save the turkeys! Eat chickens! Eat pigs! Eat lobsters!

This weekend, we're kidnapping my American sister-in-law and brother-in-law and bringing them to Quebec for the weekend. Where we will eat frogs' legs, escargot and poutine. Save the turkeys!

It's Twilight Day...

2008-11-21T07:26:00.007-05:00

I have to say, I was never very excited about the Twilight series.

Then, I discovered Robert Pattinson. Can you even seriously tell me you don't love him?

Also, I started to read the books, and against my will, I am hooked. Why am I surprised? I loved the Lost Boys. Okay, so not the same thing. Anyway, I am madly attempting to finish the first book before I see the movie. You know what that means: Tess of the d'Urbervilles is getting cold on the nightstand. Poor Tess. Mmm, Robert....

Happy weekend!

Tess of the D'Urbervilles

2008-11-18T07:30:00.001-05:00

Is it just me or is there really nothing on TV right now? Which is very good for reading.

Right now I'm reading Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy for my bookclub. Since the book was written like 124 years ago, I decided to head to my neighbourhood used bookstore, Eliot Bookshop, to pick it up, rather than pay full price at Indigo. I headed upstairs to the literature section, only to find that the store had every other possible book by Thomas Hardy except Tess. Which was too bad because the average price of each book was about $2.50. A steal! When I headed back downstairs, the lovely bookseller asked me if there was something in particular I was looking for.

"Tess of the D'Urbervilles," I told him.

"There's a copy here," a man near the door said and pulled out a near-first edition of the book from the classics wall.

"The book gods are smiling down on you," the bookseller said and rang the book in.

I think they were likely laughing. I had to pay $11 for my ancient copy. Eleven dollars! But what was I going to say? No, I don't want the pretty, near-first edition copy. I'll just go spend the same amount for a cheap, new imitation that was printed last year? So I bought it. And I hav e to admit, it does feel sort of special to read something so old. All the pages are brown and it's a hardcover but it's pocket-sized (in height, if not in depth) and there's still a dustjacket on it, even if it is rather tattered. Still, I'm only on Chapter 2. There may very well be something like 824 chapters. I'm pretending that it's taking me so long to read it because I am only allowed to read it at home. I mean, I don't want to just toss the book in my handbag in case pages start falling out or something.

Anyway, at the LCBO on the weekend, I was picking out a bottle of wine to take to a friend's wine and cheese party, when I noticed a bottle of Australian wine called Thomas Hardy. Is there a more appropriate bottle to take to my bookclub meeting when we discuss Tess? Except, it was $87. I'm not sure I love Tess or Thomas Hardy that much at this point to salute him with a bottle of wine when I could buy a pair of shoes for that price.

Is that horrible?

Who are Susan and Tony?

2008-11-14T06:00:00.000-05:00

Every year my stepmom and dad go to a Halloween party at their friends' house. This year, my stepmom emailed to say they were going as Susan and Tony.

Who? I thought. I know they're Sopranos fans, so I thought maybe Susan was Tony's wife? Clearly, I stopped watching Sopranos in Season 2 and have forgotten all the characters' names.

Of course, Susan and Tony could be Survivor players. The odds that there's a Tony. There was definitely a Susan or two. Remember Trucker Sue? My parents would know if here was also a Tony. They are self-professed "#1 Survivor fans!" They haven't missed a season or an episode. They can tell anyone the rules of any game.

Oh sure, I like to tease them about this. I mean, come on. Survivor? It's like Season 17 or something. It's time to move on. Of course, tell that to them. They're still watching ER. Which means, Susan and Tony could be on ER. I know there was a Doctor Susan, who was on the show, left the show and came back to the show...

Still, it was then that I realized I may make fun, but maybe, I am not cool.

My parents are cooler than me.

I couldn't even bring myself to ask who Susan and Tony were, because clearly, if this couple needs NO last name introduction, they are pop-culture-fabulous and I should know who they are.

I am so lame.

"Sounds great!" I emailed back to my stepmom in response to the costume idea. Then, waited, for days, until they finally figured out how to upload pictures of themselves in costume for me to see.

And then, my dad emailed. Only, instead of the usual pics from his slightly outdated camera, which he has to send one picture at a time because his laptop is so ancient it can't handle anymore than that, I got an email with the subject line:

Check out my great iPhotos!

Not only is my father now in possession of a super sleek MacBook, but also, an iPhone, with which he took the pictures.

He was dressed in a grey suit. My stepmom had a red slinky dress and long black wig on.

I still had no idea who they were, though they looked fantastic!

Thankfully, his email said: Susan and Tony from Dancing with the Stars.

So then I went to hunt for this picture on the information superhighway, and saw all of the costumes Susan wore, and read her daily blog of the schedule and the dances, and was suddenly so sad I had missed this season so far and had absolutely no idea she was even on DWTS.

I then returned to my rock of lame, where I like to hide.

The psychic.

2008-11-12T10:05:00.004-05:00

On the weekend, I went to a psychic for the first time.

She was SO real. Her cat had RED eyes. I'm not even kidding. And it was a Siamese cat and aren't they supposed to have BLUE eyes?

My two friends and I were sitting at the table together during the readings, so the psychic said that the spirits might get confused and she might say things about one of the other two while reading one of us. Which actually happened. Like when she told me I'd be going on a ski vacation soon (TRUE! And I haven't been on a ski vacation in 10 years, so how could she have guessed that?) but that it would be in Colorado with family (not true - we're going to Quebec), but my friend's family is all in Colorado.

Then, she said one of our friends was having a baby with the EXACT name of the baby that my other friend is naming the baby that is inside her AT THIS VERY MINUTE, waiting to be born.

She told me I would move into another unit in my building that I've had my eye on for a long time and that it has a bigger terrace and I will love living there. This is EXACTLY what happened five years ago to me, after the Hubs proposed. We moved up seven floors in our building to a suite we'd had our eye on forever.

She also told me that I've been teaching a class recently. I mean, how could she know that?!

There were some things that I'm not sure are going to come true, though. Like the baby named Mark I'm going to have in 2 years. Oh really? But she said I would have this baby at the same time as someone in my family, and then she told me the name of that person, which is the name of my stepsister! The same stepsister who is getting married this year, so in all likelihood of the way things work in life (I mean, other than me), she WOULD be having a baby in two years.

Then she also told me the name of a sick relative, which was true. And sad.

But, she also said I am angry. Am I angry? I don't feel angry! Maybe I'm suppressing it!

What the psychic did not tell me was that I would lose my mitten this week. If I'd known I was going to lose my mitten, I would've been more careful when taking them off. If you see my mitten, can you let me know? I'm sure he's scared without his twin.

Maybe I'm supposed to be angry about my lost mitten? But I'm not, I'm just sad. I liked my mitten.

NaNoWriMo

2008-11-07T07:00:00.000-05:00

It's officially NaNoWriMo. What is NaNoWriMo? It's National Novel Writing Month.

That's right. It's time to write a novel. Or 50,000 words, whichever comes first. In one month. Starting November 1st. Which was actually six days ago, but it's not too late to join! Because if you do write 50,000 words, you win! What do you win, exactly? Well, the satisfaction of completing a task on deadline.

Normally I'm all about deadlines. Actually, I don't think I do anything without a deadline. That is the joy of working in a field that's driven by deadlines. I can't not write a magazine article because I didn't feel like it and just send a blank page to the printer because SOMEONE will notice the blank page in the magazine. Really. People notice blank pages. One blank page might be fun, though. Because you could doodle, make a list, draw a picture, or write your own story and pretend you're published in your favourite magazine, like US Weekly or The Enquirer. Personally, I'm all about Real Simple. But more than one blank page, well, that would be too much. Anyway...

I need deadlines, which is why novel writing can be tricky, because you often don't have a deadline. When I first started writing my first book, I didn't even have an agent, so there was absolutely no one waiting for my novel, which was still in my head at that point. Now, it's easier, because I can give things to my agent to read, though whenever I ask her for a deadline, she tells me to give it to her when it's done. Hmm. So I have to set my own deadlines. Which is why NaNoWriMo is so great. To make it work though, it's best to try to write every single day. Because, like eating breakfast or flossing your teeth, you really need 30 days to make something a habit, so if you write, no matter how little, every day, it will become easier and easier every day.

Of course, there are always excuses. On November 1st, I had to finish reading my bookclub book (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie society, which was SO, SO good. It's set post-WWI in Guernsey, which is in the Channel Islands, and is about a bookclub and romance and a pig and potato peels, which they used to make a pie).

Then, the next day I had to go to a wedding. And then the day after taht I had to make a potato pie because it was bookclub night and it's a potluck and everyone makes something mentioned or inspired by the book of the month.

See how easy it is to make excuses for not writing? I could go on, such as: once Monday hit I had to go back to work (to write words on pages that go to the printer so they're not blank) and watched The Hills (can you believe Heidi got fired?) and then go to the mall (to buy myself a present for doing NaNoWriMo). See how good I am at making excuses?

The thing is, excuses don't get a novel written in 30 days. Writing does. So even though you can do all those other things, you also have to write, write, write. But it's not that hard, really. Because YOU get to pick the topic and YOU get to write whatever words you want and then they're YOURS.

Don't you want to do NaNoWriMo too? You should! Then we can be in it together! Peer pressure rocks!

Okay. I am done with my excuse for the day (Update Blog). Back to writing!

Happy Halloween!

2008-10-31T07:00:00.001-04:00

Yes, I am a Mexicat. Take the picture already.

Mexicat swagger.

Enough, Papparrazzi, enough. I`m outta here.

One day until Halloween!

2008-10-30T07:00:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow's the big day. As you know if you've been reading this blog for a while, Mr. Baz dresses up for Halloween every year. He loves it. He really, really does. After all, Halloween is his birthday, and what better way than to get dressed up in brand new clothes?

In preparation for tomorrow, a look back at his previous Halloween costumes...

Psychics

2008-10-29T07:00:00.001-04:00

Because I already had plans last Saturday, I couldn't go to the Sweetmama.ca Spa-a-thon, but editor Nadine said it was fantabulous. You can read about it here - and gear up for next year - but all I could focus on was THEY HAD A PSYCHIC.

I have a fear of psychics, because I think they may be real and what if they can really tell you your entire future? I mean, sure, I'd love to know what my winter coat will look like next year and where I will buy it, because that would certainly save shopping time, but what about bigger issues. Such as: What if they see me alone? Does that mean I'll get divorced? I don't want to get divorced. What if they see me with 17 kids running around? Do I need to start saving because that means I'm going to have seventeenuplets? What if they see me with one arm? Should I avoid all activities in which my arm may get cut off? What if they see someone dying? I don't want to know someone's going to die. It's too sad. It's bad enough when my plants die and I don't even name them.

But, a bunch of my girlfriends SWEAR by this psychic who's in Burlington and many go every single year for a check-in and they say they can't live without her. Plus, she's not very negative and the positive things she does see actually come true. So I finally agreed that I will go, only this woman is so busy that she doesn't return calls if you leave a voicemail so you have to keep calling and calling until she answers, which can take, like, days. Weeks. Months. We've been trying on rotating shifts for almost two months, trying to get her to answer her phone, but last week, my friend got through and now we have a date, so I'm quite excited and nervous, but I feel there are so many questions I have, will she be able to answer them all?

What do you think? Have you been to a psychic? Did she tell you things that actually came true?

In the meantime, are there any TV psychics out there that can tell me when MadMen Season 3 will air because I just watched the season finale of Season 2 and I cannot wait even though I'm sure it's going to be another year before they're back in the office. Hmm.

Fudge, Cookies and the U.S.A.

2008-10-24T07:00:00.000-04:00

The other night I decided to make Halloween cookies. Only, once I got home I realized that I didn't have a pumpkin cookie cutter, which I'm POSITIVE is either a) wrong. (I know I have one!) or b) a sign of early-onset Alzheimer's that I thought I had one and don't or have misplaced it and don't know where to look.

No problem, I thought. I'll make ghosts. Only, I don't have a ghost cookie cutter. So I tried a bunny head upside down, thinking that the ears would look like the bottom of the ghost. No such luck. It looked like a cross between a breast cancer ribbon, an upside down bunny head and a fish. So I ate them, which is when I realized that the Party Skirt cookie cutter from my Princess Cookie Cutter set, would make a perfect ghost. Voila!

So anyway, I told my friend (who came to Cape Cod with us and who lives in New York) about my ghost cookies and sent a picture and he told me to bring him one when I came to New York (where I am right now as I type).

The problem was, when we came back from Cape Cod, I brought a box of fudge for my Dad, who likes fudge. It was the only thing we bought, so when the customs lady asked us what we spent $10 on, we said: Fudge.

She: So that's dairy, then?

Me: Huh-what-pardon me?

She: SO....THAT'S....DAIRY....THEN.

Me: Oh. Okay. I guess. (But really I was thinking, What?)

So then the customs woman circles Dairy and writes "FUDGE" on that form that has all the REALLY BAD THINGS you're not supposed to bring into Canada, like nuts and seeds and fruit and farmers. And well, yes, dairy was on the list, but I mean, it's not like I was bringing a jug of milk straight from the cow's udder, right?

After all, isn't chocolate like the most popular souvenir item that people bring back from vacation? And that's dairy. Does that mean you can't bring chocolate anymore?

So anyway, I was sure we were going to have to pay duty or a fine or go to jail or something but when we got to the next stop after customs where you hand in the card, the guy took it, looked at it and sent us on our way. With the fudge.

So I was glad, but still it didn't really make any sense at all.

Anyway, I told my friend what happened at the border -- and the icing on the cookies has milk in it so there you go, does that mean I can't bring a cookie across the border?

My friend said that if the dairy item is cooked it's probably free of bacteria (which makes complete sense, actually) but if that were true, then the fudge should have been fine, since it's fully cooked. Whereas the icing ON the cookie is not cooked at all.

What to do?

He suggested I try to bring it. If they didn't let me, I'll have an excuse to eat a cookie at 7 a.m.

Which actually sounded like a good plan.

So that's what I did. And then, when they asked me if I was bringing anything in, I said No sir. Nothing at all. I'm so bad. Oh brother. (Though my friend liked the cookie, so it was all worth it).

Now, if only I could find the perfect pair of boots before I head back to Toronto.

In other news, I've chosen a random winner of the Sweetmama.ca Spa Day tickets.

Congratulations to Sarah M. You'll be emailed the tix! Enjoy! And thanks to everyone who emailed!

Happy weekend!

2008-10-22T07:00:00.002-04:00

My friend and fellow blogger Nadine is the superfabulous editor of Sweetmama – and this Saturday she's hosting a super sweet event for moms to raise money for SickKids. And...just for reading my blog you could win 2 free tickets to an afternoon with your mom, sister or BFF, getting pampered. What could be better than that? Here are the details:

********************

Raising money for a good cause is important, but who needs to run 10k, spin for 2 hours, or walk for 24 hours, when you could just spend the day at the spa? Well, with Sweetmama's first Mother's Day Off Spa-A-Thon you can! I'm proud to announce that we have partnered with the SickKids Foundation to host this very special event. It will take place on Saturday, October 25th from 1-5 pm at Andrew Richards Designs.

You'll enjoy an afternoon of manicures, massages, yoga/pilates, boot camp, make up applications, and much more from some of our favourite sponsors like Gee Beauty, Dermalogica, Pilates for Life and Track Fitness! Plus there will be sweet treats provided from Flour Girls, Genuine Health, Track Snacks, and Vitamin Water.

If that's not enough, here are a few more reasons why you should buy a ticket:

1. You don't need to be a Sweetmama, or a mama, for that matter! It is just a day for women to kick back, relax and enjoy some "me" time, all for a good cause. Show your support without wearing a support bra!

2. The value of the gift bags is already over $175, so you'll more than make it back the ticket price in sweet swag!

3. Even if you can't make it that day, you should buy a ticket. Why? Because the money is for a great cause, and I will personally put your gift bag away for you so that you can enjoy it another day.

GET PAMPERED FOR A GOOD CAUSE!
GET YOUR TICKETS NOW!
http://sweetmama.ca/national/pages/5005/mothers_day_off_spa-a-thon/

***************

Want to WIN 2 FREE tickets? Email me at chantel (at) chantelsimmons (dot) com and I'll randomly pick one winner on Friday!

I have now sent 3 text messages.

2008-10-21T07:00:00.001-04:00

I have a new phone. It's pink. Really, that says it all. It couldn't be more perfect.

Anyone who has ever tried to call me knows that my old phone did not ring. Still, I loved this phone. It was the LG Chocolate and when it came out years ago I hinted and hinted until the Hubs bought it for me for Christmas. I loved it so much, but right from the start there were problems.

It wouldn't ring when people called. Days later I'd go to use it and I'd get a random notification that I had a missed call. Or, I'd be walking with phone in hand and get a beep that I had a new voicemail even though again, it never rang. On the few times it did ring and I actually heard it, because the ring was so quiet you basically had to be in a library or church to hear it, and I actually picked it up and tried to talk, my (apparently) pointy cheek or hair would set off the touch screen and hang up on the person. When I tried to dial in to check my messages, the keys would stick and inevitably the system would tell me I was entering the wrong password and it would hang up on me.

Needless to say, I haven't talked on my cellphone very much in the last 2 years. I'm not sure why I waited this long to upgrade. I guess it's like a favourite sweater. Even if it's pilly and out of sorts you still wear it because you love it. That's what I did. Until today when I found the shiny pink phone!

And the best part? It rings! So loud that there's a warning telling me not to put the phone near my head while it's ringing because I may experience hearing loss. I bet I could wear earplugs and still hear it ring. I could definitely wear the PINK headphones that come with it. But the even better part? When it DOES ring, all the buttons light up in PINK!

Also, I can send 2,500 text messages a month. TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED! This is crazy, isn't it? Or is it just me? Is this how many texts teens are sending nowadays? Would my 15-year-old cousin look at this plan and say, "Hmmm.... 2500. That seems okaaaaayyyyy...., but I'll probably need to monitor how many texts I'm sending around the last week of the month just to be sure I don't go over the limit."?

Also, I can send 1,000 picture texts. I don't even know what this means. Like, if I wanted to take a picture and send it as a text message? Anyway, whatever it is, I can send 1,000 of them.

So far I have sent 3 text messages.

Text Messages Left To Date (TMLTD): 2,497
Picture Messages Left To Date (PMLTD): 1,000

P.S. An update: There is a Mr. Baz Halloween costume glitch. The item I need is nowhere to be found in Toronto except I did find it hanging on a wall in a restaurant but I don't think the owners would appreciate if I stole the item and ran home with it because then I would end up in jail and do they have sewing machines in jail?? I doubt it, so THEN how would I make the costume in time? So I didn't steal the item. Then today I had a brainwave to buy the item I need to make the item I need for Mr. Baz's costume off eBay. Except, it was going to cost $24 to ship the $6 item and wasn't guaranteed by Halloween. My last resort is New York. I'm headed there Thursday. In one of the biggest cities in the world, surely I can find what I'm looking for?

Politics

2008-10-19T07:00:00.000-04:00

I don't like to talk politics - it's not polite and i'm all about Emily Postinessity - but on Annie Choi's blog I read that in Australia there's a little box on the ballot you can check that says "No Vote."

So, then, does this mean you get up, you find the card they sent you in the mail, you go to the polls, you stand in line, and THEN you become apathetic?

Does this make any sense? Why not just be apathetic at home, while watching Ghost Hunters International? Not that that's what I did. I'm just SAYING. It doesn't make any sense.

I'm going to check with my Down Under Experts (aka My Sister and Brother-In-Law). They are both Australian. It doesn't get much more authentic than that. Unless I were to ask Mick "Crocodile" Dundee. Which isn't an option.

Me: Is it true that there's a No Vote box on the election ballot?

Sister: Are you doing research for your next book?

Me: No. Just wondering.

Sister: Are you in a debating club?

Me: As if.

Sister: I don't remember a "No Vote" box. Their voting ballots are really long though and can be confusing but you do need to check at least one box somewhere. Not sure if you just handed in an unchecked ballot if that would essentially be a 'no vote'. Voting is mandatory for Australians.

Me: But you're Australian. What will happen if you don't go back to vote? (She lives in Vancouverland).

Sister: I notified my electoral office that I would be a non-resident when I moved to Canada and am now exempt until I return to Australia.

Me: Oh phew. What if you hadn't? What would happen then? Jail? Deportation? Loss of citizenship?

Sister: I don't know. I'll ask your brother in law.

Brother in Law: Voting in Australia is compulsory. If you don't vote you get fined $50 or $100 depending if the government officer got laid the night before or not.

Then we started talking about what Coco (their cat) and Mr. Baz (my cat) are going to dress up as for Halloween and forgot all about voting. When I hung up I realized that we didn't get to the bottom of the No Vote box though it does make more sense that there would be one if you have to go vote and really don't care, but really I'm over that topic anyway. On to Halloween costumes...

Friday Five

2008-10-10T07:00:00.003-04:00

1. My friend Cat, who I used to work with over at ELLE (and who is now the editor of 2:The Magazine for Couples, has a bun in the oven and is blogging about it over at Erica Ehm's yummymummyclub.ca. Her blog is called New Freakin' Mummy and it's freakin' funny, just like her.

2. New David Sedaris! Even though When You Are Engulfed In Flames (which is his funniest yet IMO) just came out this summer, earlier this week, this appeared in my mailbox:

Sedaris first published this holiday collection in 1998, but this new version, in stores now, has six stories from his previous collections and six new stories.

3. Tina Fey just signed a $6 million book deal with Little, Brown. Apparently she was "untested" as an author, but what's the big deal? She writes 30 rock. She wrote the script for Mean Girls. Obviously she can write. I can't wait. I love her.

4. I'm reading I Was Told There'd Be Cake by Sloane Crosley.

If you like David Sedaris and Annie Choi (as I do), I'll bet my pumpkin pie you'll like these essays.

5. I'm off to the Cape! Here's my question, what do donut shops in Boston call Boston Creams?

Happy Turkey Weekend!

Battle of the Ryans

2008-10-08T08:00:00.000-04:00

Is it just me or does anyone else find Ryan Gosling and Ryan Reynolds confusing? I mean, I know they don't look the same, but I cannot keep them straight. I've tried. Half Nelson, Definitely, Maybe, Lars and the Real Girl, Harold & Kumar... but it's all just a mess in my head. No idea which played which, except that I know Gosling was in The Notebook because he and Rachel McAdams were/are/were/are dating. Even when I look at pictures, I'm still totally confused...

Gosling:

Reynolds:

Gosling:

Reynolds:

Even now that one of them (Reynolds maybe?) has married ScarJo, I'm still confused. Was he the one that was dating Alanis Morrisette? But not the one that's on again/off again with Rachel McAdams? Which was the guy in Dick with KeKe Dunst? And then, I came up with a formula:

Gosling: Shirt.

Reynolds: No Shirt.

It works, right? I knew Finite Math would come in handy one day. Then I found this article over at Chatelaine. Which may be a little more scientific.

The Real Housewives is back!

2008-10-07T07:00:00.001-04:00

It's no secret: I love the Real Housewives of The O.C., and I've been waiting for The Real Housewives of New York for months -- finally it's here! Tomorrow night, 10 p.m., Slice.

Also, how excited am I about Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood? Ever since I read sTORI telling, I really can't get enough of Miss Donna. The premiere airs tonight at 10 p.m., also on Slice.

Apparently, I'm like the TV Guide. That is, if you're into trashy reality TV. (There was a time that I said I was over reality. I'm not sure when that ended. Clearly, reality is my new reality.) If you're into documentaries, docudramas, dramaramas, and well, science shows, I got nothing. Sorry. That is all.

The Catch and Cape Cod

2008-10-01T07:51:00.002-04:00

A few days ago I went to Louisa McCormack's book launch for The Catch, the followup to her fab debut novel, Six Weeks to Toxic.

Louisa is positively lovely and full of energy and the launch at Type Books was great fun, filled with Chippy's chips, and prizes (!) such as lobster soap and lobster gummies and lobster earrings. And who doesn't love a kitschy prize? (I love any sort of prize, kitsch or not, actually).

The Catch takes place mostly in PEI, where Louisa's also living at the moment (and where she was living while writing the book), yes, with Anne. Anne Shirley. That's all I'm going to say about the plot, because if you want more you can go here or here or here. I hate spoiling a plot and since I don't even read the backs of books because they spoil it too much for me, I would only be able to tell you what I've read so far, which is about one-third of the book. So far, so, so excellent. Louisa does an impeccable job of capturing the essence of PEI - so that if you've never been, it's like you're on a little getaway, and if you're from the east coast, it might feel like a little piece of home (not that I'm generalizing that all east coast towns in all east coast provinces and states feel the same...!).

Speaking of the east coast in all its generality (because actually, I'm not quite sure where on the east coast this next place is...), I'm putting The Catch on hold for one week because next weekend we're trading turkey for tides and stuffing for sand and spending Thanksgiving in Cape Cod. I've never been* but in my head I expect it to romantic** and wispy and windy and lovely and I think that The Catch will make for a perfect literary soundtrack to the long weekend away. Bring on the argyle and scarves!

Want to win your own copy of The Catch? More is having a contest. Good luck!

* When I told my dad I was going to Cape Cod and had never been, he said "Yes, you have..." Oh. Oops! Apparently, I was the babe in tow when he and my mom still thought camping was a vacation. That lasted until I was about two, at which point they swapped sleeping bags for actual sleep in a bed inside, out of the rain, and promptly passed both their camping equipment on to friends and the anti-camping gene on to me (for which I'm grateful, actually, even though I'm positive it's because I don't camp that I don't like beer). So although I HAVE been to Cape Cod, Daddy-O, I don't exactly remember it. Whatever, we'll call it a homecoming.

** Mostly I chose Cape Cod because it seemed romantic (ahhh... The Cape) and also because the Ghost Hunters found some haunted houses there (and I love a good haunting). But I actually don't know anything about the Cape or what to do there. Any ideas? Send them to me and I'll bring you back something lobster-like!

Volleyball panic

2008-09-29T06:00:00.001-04:00

The other night I went to an advanced volleyball clinic.

Me + Volleyball = NOT ADVANCED.

But, the only way to get better at something is to attempt to play above your comfort level, right?

Um, right.

In the past, when I have taken these clinics (in an attempt to get better so that when I play with The Hubs' team I do not put myself at risk of being killed by my teammates for being so incredibly bad), the instructors have started by getting us to sit in a circle, say our names, how much volleyball we play, what we want to learn, etc, etc. It was all very easy and fun, if not exactly very volleyball-skill related. Then, we'd do some stretching, running around the gym... a good hour would pass before we even really played volleyball. Which is great when you suck at volleyball as much as I do.

But at this clinic, I knew I was in trouble when, promptly at the start of the clinic, the instructor said he didn't care what our names are, how much we paid for the clinic, if we're late, or anything else that didn't have to do with the actual volleyball. Um, okay.

Then, we began these crazy drills, where he referenced plays and setups and used a bunch of terms I did not at all understand. And everytime someone did something wrong, he stopped us to announce it. Guess how often we had to stop playing to find out who did something wrong? And guess who it was ALWAYS about?

In the equivalent of What Not To Wear, I was What Not to Do. It's really too bad I didn't get a free wardrobe out of it.

In my own defence (aka enter whining, feel-sorry-for-me session here), I have only known anything about volleyball for four years (ack, already four years? I'm not sure how much longer I can use this excuse, but for now...). Before that, I had no idea how many times you could hit a volleyball, how you could hit it, how many people play volleyball or how long a game lasts. I didn't know what a "pass" was, a "set" was, a "free ball" was. Actually, just last week, after hearing people call "Side out!" throughout every game for the past four years, I finally got up the nerve to ask The Hubs what on earth that meant. Mostly, when I heard people saying things I didn't understand, I just tuned it out, you know, by thinking about the latest episode of The Hills, for example.

I am blaming my lack of knowledge entirely on Mrs. Millar, my seventh grade teacher, who also taught us phys. ed. Mrs. Millar was also my mother's first grade teacher, if that gives you any idea how old she was. But clearly, she considered herself the Misty May of the plus-60 set. For the entire year, she refused to remember that my name was Chantel. Instead, she called me Maureen, my mom's name. When it came time for the volleyball week of phys. ed class, she saw me touch the ball once and promptly told me that I was terrible at it, and that I should not play. And so I never did again.

Anyway, I somehow managed to survive the first clinic. Only three more to go. After which point, I'm hoping to look like this:

Hmm... I wonder how Misty gets her nail polish to stay on when she's always in the sand...

I'll keep you posted on my progress.

Miami Time

2008-09-26T06:00:00.000-04:00

I just got back from Miami...okay not just (it's been a few days), but I'm still on Miami time. So what if there's no time change between Toronto and Miami? I guess I'm on tan time, then.

I went for three new Crest & Oral B products, though they're under embargo until the spring, so I can't tell you about how amazing they are (and how you will actually WANT to spend time in the bathroom) so let's just talk about the trip instead, shall we?

Like the yacht cruise...

...where we toured Millionaire's Row, where you know, the millionaires live.

It was fully like reading US Weekly, only without any pages blowing in the wind.

First stop: P. Diddy's place.

What do you do when you love a good speed boat? You buy two!

We also saw where Will & Jada vacation...

And Shaq's blue getaway...

And the house they use for MTV reality shows...

And Elizabeth Taylor's place...

And Julio Iglesias's house.

And then... things got a little fuzzy. Which means I have a whole lot of pictures of homes, with no idea...

Who they ...

Belong to...

Back in the city, we drove past Versace's place, which is now a club. With a very excited door man! (Squint, you'll see).

Then, it was off to dinner at the Delano, where I sat in a very big chair...

(Don't you totally want this chair for your own home? I do.)

Then I ate a very delicious meal that I had every intention of photographing.

Except, after the appetizer, I forgot. Oops.

Oh well no matter. It would probably just make me hungry.

And now, back to the real world.

TV time travel and who buys CDs anymore?

2008-09-14T19:41:00.003-04:00

Tonight I watched the series premiere of Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Yes, it started last year. I'm behind. Consider it time travel, which is actually quite appropriate for this series. Anyway, there was a Season 1 marathon on Space to catch you up before Season 2 started (so clearly I CAN'T be the only one who missed it the first time around, and anyway, it's a good way not to get addicted to a show that's going to get cancelled after one season, no?). So anyway, we set the PVR to tape all the episodes that aired this weekend and now have like fourteen billion episodes (because of course, if you set your PVR to tape them all, you get like 7 of the same episode). So anyway, maybe everyone already discussed this last year at this time, but is it me or does Sarah Connor (Lena Headey) ...

look a little like Naomi Watts?

And, does Cameron (Summer Glau)...

Look a little like Autumn Reeser?

In other time travel news, I read this article today. Nevermind what the most controversial album covers ARE, my question is this: How does anyone know what the covers are? Does anybody even buy CDs anymore? And if you think NO, like I do, then how on earth does anyone know what the cover of a CD looks like? Oh sure, I know, it's on your iPod when you download the song, but do you ever actually scroll to look at the cover? Am I supposed to be? Am I being a bad fan because I don't?

Okay, on closer perusal of the list, it appears that most if not all of the album covers are from the days BEFORE iTunes. When people bought CDs, tapes and even albums. Is this list even accurate then? Because I bet there's got to be way more controversial covers now, only we don't know it.

Or maybe everyone else does, but I'm just totally out of it? (Which wouldn't be surprising. I mean, I AM watching new shows a year late).

90210, Tori, and trickery

2008-09-12T07:32:00.003-04:00

First of all, thanks for ALL the amazing suggestions on where I can pick my own apples! Who knew? That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to tie it into an apple-picking-pumpkin-picking excursion in October.

In the meantime though, all I could think of was apple butter and how I wanted to make it, so... I went to the Rabba. I know! My coworker who told me I COULD not, under NO circumstances buy my apples at the Rabba because I would be paying triple what I would pay if I went to Food Basics or No Frills is now turning over in his apron. He would be so ashamed of me. But, No Frills doesn't have parking and Food Basics is not exactly in the best hood, and I can just walk to the Rabba and then carry the apples home. And they had a big bin of the new fresh off the tree apples (not shiny, still with leaves on the stems!). I got 10 pounds and only paid $7! That seems pretty cheap to me, and it made a double batch of apple butter. It took me two episodes of Ellen just to peel them all and my fingers were like prunes after, but now, the apple butter is cooking! And I have the cutest little mini Mason jars with pink plaid lids!

So I can make my first batch now, and my second in October when I go to the farm and pick the apples myself.

In other news, I just finished reading sTORI telling. OH my god. It's so good. Like, I cannot stop reading it so good. Tori is so funny, so self-deprecating, that you will love her if you read this book. Trust me. And there's a lot of good 90210 dirt and all the stuff about her marriage, her affair, her remarriage... plus pics. I never really liked her or respected her, but now, even the fact that a few months ago she was caught signing autographs (allegedly) at the airport here in Toronto for $20, I totally get why. She explains it all. She's poor now. Seriously. But if you had her life, you'd understand how it happened. If Drew Barrymore hadn't already called her memoir Little Girl Lost, it would've been the perfect title for Tori's book (though her title is awesome). If you haven't read it, you totally should. Also to note: it's in hardcover and when you take off the dustjacket, the book is HOT PINK. Love it!

Now that I love Tori, I'm disappointed she didn't return to 90210, but again, the book explains it (though not exactly pertaining to the new show), but basically, Tori has spent her life trying to get away from being "Donna Martin" because she's a really funny actress and just wanted to show that off. I don't want to ruin the book if you're going to read it, but given that she was in debt when she met Dean I can get why she'd agree to go back on the show, but the fact that she wasn't getting paid as much as the other girls was unfair. When her dad was the producer, he insisted on not paying her as much but by the end she was one of the stars (especially after Brenda, Dylan and Brandon were gone). So it's not fair they wouldn't pay her as much as Brenda and Kelly.

See how I'm defending her? That's what the book did to me!

In other 90210 news, was it me or did they totally set up last week's preview so that we thought Brenda would be introduced at the school this week? And then she wasn't. Having Jackie Taylor back on was great though, but I'm sad she was a drunk and cokehead again. I loved her when she was clean and she and Kelly got along. But, this means Silver moves in with Kelly, which means maybe Kelly will stay on the show for the whole season? At this rate though, I feel like even if they cut out all the oldies, I'm still going to watch it. It's nothing new (couldn't this just be the new class of The OC, really? except not as witty?), but still.... If only they could get everyone to stop laughing at all the jokes, and get Annie to stop overacting. She's cute, but please, stop trying so hard! I do love how she suddenly got cute clothes.

Finally, did you hear that LC is writing YA books? Exciting! They're loosely based on her life, but will be fiction, and she has a three book deal with HarperCollins so far. Can't wait.

Happy weekend!

Apple Picking...

2008-09-10T09:58:00.002-04:00

On the weekend, The Stepmom asked if I'd used my Crock Pot for anything else other than the one batch (and when I say "batch" I mean 3 jars) of apple butter I made back in oh... March.

I had this great idea that I would make apple butter, only the recipes all called for a crock pot, which I didn't own, so I mentioned it to The Stepmom. Magically, on my birthday, I got a fabulous crock pot. And I made apple butter. The end.

"No... I haven't quite used it for anything else yet..." I told her, then felt guilty, but the truth is that I was gearing up for the BIG MONSTROUS APPLE BUTTER EXTRAVAGANZA this fall. If you are reading this and are my friend/relative/coworker, be surprised when you get a jar of apple butter around the holidays from me.

The thing is, I'm not sure where to get enough apples to make dozens and dozens of jars of apple butter. Surely not at the Rabba in my building?

This morning at the gym, I went to a class led by a grey-haired lady. She's so cute, and when I show up after not being there for weeks (because I am a lazy, bad gym-goer), she'll say things like "Welcome back!" Then she'll nod, and add "Chantel travels a lot for work." The first time it happened, I thought she had me confused with someone else, because I actually don't travel that much, and certainly not extensively enough to justify why I have three-month lapses from the gym. Then, I realized she was just covering for me so I wouldn't look bad. I love her. Anyway, in class today, as we were doing some sort of side-step-reach-in-the-air move, she shouted out, "Like you're picking apples off a tree!"

Like I'm WHAT?

Do people even pick apples anymore? Where would you do that?

When I was a young MC, we were driving to my cousin's house one Saturday afternoon. We had a pizza in the back and were stopping to pick up a bushel of apples from a farm near our house. My dad was turning left when a truck slammed into the back of our car. Thankfully, we were all okay, though my mom got whiplash and had to wear a neck brace for months. While my parents sorted out the details of the accident, I had to sit in the farmhouse. The lady in the farmhouse put on The Wizard of Oz for me to watch. I cried the whole time. I cannot watch that movie now, and I get a little squeamish thinking about making a road trip to get apples. Still, even there you couldn't actually pick the apples off the tree.

Even now, when The Hubs and I go to an apple/pumpkin farm north of Toronto to get our pumpkins at Halloween, you can't pick the apples from the tree. You can pick them out of a barrel, but that's it. And still, that seems pretty authentic. Maybe picking apples off a tree is just something that everyone can envision doing, but which doesn't actually happen in real life unless you are actually a farmer.

But I guess if the gym instructor were to say "Like you're picking apples off the counter at the Rabba!", we wouldn't get as skinny, would we? And then I couldn't justify eating apple butter on toast every day.

I am not 21...

2008-09-08T19:37:00.003-04:00

This weekend, The Dad, The Stepmom, The Hubs and I headed to Titusville, Pennsylvania for a golf vacation. It was our Christmas present to each other last year, but golfing in September is much more enjoyable than golfing in December, so off we went. I actually thought we were going to Ohio. Ohio, Pennsylvania, Po-tay-to, Po-tot-o, you get the idea.

A week before we left (saving the good news to the very end), The Stepmom says to me: Apparently there are no hairdryers at the hotel.

Say what?

We were a bit concerned. I don't actually use a hairdryer very often, but the idea of there NOT being a hairdryer was worrisome indeed. I mean, do we need a refresher on just how BAD hairdryers can actually get?

Exactly. So if that's what hairdryers can look like, what would a hotel look like that didn't even have hairdryers?

The night before we left, The Stepmom had an update: Apparently, they have hairdryers at the front desk.

What did this mean? What would the rooms actually have if they didn't even have enough hairdryers for each?

I'll tell you: 2 double beds and a TV.

No alarm clock (what? you want to wake up?)
No clock (who cares what time it is)
No mini shampoos and conditioners (you want clean hair?)
No bathrobes.

Okay, I didn't really expect bathrobes.

I thought it was going to be terrible, but it was AWESOME.

It was so 70s that the whole atmosphere would've been ruined had there been any other modern amenities.

It was unlimited golf, which is what everyone was there to do. And unlike some golf courses, that charge you $5 for a beer from the cart girl, there was no cart girl. Instead, there was a BREW-THRU, so that as you were going from Hole #9 to Hole #10 you could drive up to the window in your golf cart and they would give you a mini cooler that held 6 Pennsylvian beers (Yeunglings! Could there be a better name for beers?). And you gave the window guy $9. NINE dollars for SIX beers! It almost made me want to drink a beer, but beer is totally ungirly and so I never drink it.

You know what else the hotel had?

A revolving bar.

So picture this: a huge CRYSTAL chandelier in the middle with a full round bar (ie drinks/glasses/booze on all sides of the bar counter). Then, instead of there being one straight long bar, there was a huge circular bar table around it and about 20 chairs that SWIVEL all the way around in a circle. And then, at 9 pm, the bartender started mixing drinks and the circular bar and the chairs you were sitting on started to move in a clockwise direction!

Is this not the most awesomest thing you've ever heard of?

We were sitting on the patio having some after-dinner drinks when we looked in to the Crystal Lounge and saw that the lights on the chandelier had come on and the DJ was playing Prince and the chairs start moving.

Mesmerized, I raced inside to get on the ride. But when I sat down at the chair closest to the window where The Dad, The Stepmom and The Hubs were sitting outside, watching on, the bartender came up to me and asked me if I had ID.

Me: Um, no. It's in the room. (The hotel was all-inclusive, so why would I have my wallet with me?)

She: Are you 21?

Me: (In slight shock.). I'm 32.

She: (In utter disbelief). I really doubt that. I'm afraid you'll have to leave.

Me: (Totally redfaced with not a comeback to think of). Oh. OK.

I walked back outside as quickly as I could.

The Hubs: What happened?

I told them.

They're still not letting me live it down.

School's in!

2008-09-02T13:05:00.003-04:00

Can you concentrate on anything today? Seriously.

All I can think of is Brenda and Kelly and the whole new class, Tonight... the season premiere of 90210!!!

I know, I have to keep my expectations low. After all, it's not going to be about Kelly and Brenda and Brandon and Dylan. Although... I feel that the producers are trying to keep some similarities... like isn't Dustin Milligan totally channeling Dylan with his Porsche?

And is it me, or doesn't AnnaLynne McCord's dress remind you of the black dress with the white bow that both Kelly and Brenda wear to the Spring Fling?

I can't wait. The clothes, the shoes, the gossip... even The Hubs (who has already endured nearly the entire original series, which I taped in its entirety when it replayed on TVtropolis a few years ago) is excited. Really. Okay maybe I have to remind him he's excited, but whatever.

This weekend was all about back to school. I love fall, as it's a great chance to make a fresh start, revise those resolutions (like um, going to the gym again, which apparently, I haven't been to ALL summer, but whatever, surely a few laps in the pool count for something, don't they?). Anyway, usually, the whole "back to school" idea is in theory, since I don't actually go to school, but just back to the office and my computer (which, speaking of which, has not arrived. Where is my pink computer?!). But this year, school was not just as a theory, as today, I taught my first class! That's right, I'm now officially a teacher. I even ordered a book (because books are useful!) and it came in the mail addressed to Professor Simmons. (Which is actually quite a stretch given I don't any qualifications to be called a professor...). Anyway, I'm teaching a post-grad magazine writing class at one of the colleges in the city. And I survived Day 1. Phew. Did you know that classrooms don't have chalk boards and chalk anymore? It's true. It's all wipeboards. Which is great because chalk on your butt is a really downer.

Unfortunately for the students, they're stuck with me, not some hot guy like on 90210. But really, I'm helping them. Because honestly, if this....

... was your teacher (okay straight guys aside), how could you possibly concentrate on anything? See? Much better to be stuck with me.

This weekend, I prepped for going back to school by going to see The House Bunny. Which isn't really about going to class, actually, but about living in a sorority, which is at school...

In other school-ish news, what's going on with Gossip Girl? Am I confused? I was reading Entertainment Weekly and I thought the 2-hour debut was last night but was that only in the US?

If you know, please tell me. And now, back to the countdown. SEVEN HOURS!!!!!

Kitty Party Book Club

2008-08-28T14:00:00.000-04:00

The other day one of the members of the Kitty Party Book Club (how cute is this book club's name and why am I not in a book club called the Kitty Party? Actually, mine would be called the Pretty Kitty Book Club and Mr. Baz would be the mascot but nevermind). Anyway, one of the group's members, Deepi, wrote me the loveliest email saying they were reading my book in their book club this month! Hurrah!

Although I heard from several book clubs last summer, after the book came out (and likely, because they wanted to take advantage of this book club offer!), I haven't heard from many book clubs recently (also because the book club offer is sold out, and would you bother to write to the author whose book you're reading just because you're reading it? I mean, I didn't email Barbara Walters this month to let her know I was reading her memoir, though this is likely because a) I do not know Barbara Walters' email address, b) Babs probably doesn't read her own emails (who has time for that....I do, sadly), and c) Everyone is reading Barbara Walters' memoir so big deal. But for me, it IS a big deal, so thank you Kitty Party members!

The Kitty Party book club was hoping the offer might still be valid, but since the cupcake mixes have been long turned into pretty pink cupcakes, it isn't. But I sent them a little something anyway -- some Dermaglow lip glosses (a favourite of Mara) and some bookmarks.

Then, they sent me this picture of them at Book Club night. Cute!

Seriously, they could be called the Pretty Kitty Book Club because they're all so pretty!

Thanks for reading girls!

Three Important Matters

2008-08-26T06:00:00.001-04:00

Important Matter #1: How much are you loving The Hills? Oh I know, it's fake and all that, but still. Anyway, have you been watching The Aftershow that's on daily at 7:30? Did you see the clip about Heidi and Spencer on Ryan Seacrest talking about how Heidi's saving herself for marriage????? Even though, in Season 2 there was that whole serious conversation in Spencer's car where Heidi tells him that she took the pregnancy test? Apparently the image is all for her burgeoning Christian rock music career.

IM #2: The new PINK laptop has been ordered!!!!!!

IM#3: Does Labour Day mean the end of flip-flops?

That is all for today.

Best of Montreal

2008-08-25T07:00:00.002-04:00

This weekend I went to Montreal. The Hubs had to work. I went along to do some shopping. (I mean, keep him company). I'm very good at that. Know what I'm also very good at?
Eating poutine.

I mean, when in Rome.... Well, when in Rome you should buy shoes.

And when in la belle province, you should go to La Belle Province and eat poutine. Yum.

However, when I was eating pizza by myself (not at La Belle Province), the girl behind me in line ordered poutine but instead of gravy she got it with meat spaghetti sauce. I mean, can you even imagine? I immediately wanted to order that, but I mean, I already had my slice of pizza and if I ate both, I might not have been able to move, and I had shopping to do!

While shopping, I also managed to buy some lovely accessories, several from Simons, where the saleswoman asked me why I spell Simons (SIGH -mons) with two "M"s. I told her that's the way the name came. I didn't have the heart to tell her that really, I spell Simmons (SIMM-ons)with two M's. I guess maybe they just don't have the word "Simmons" in Quebec. I wonder what type of mattresses they sell at La Baie.

While shopping, I noticed a lot of ties. On girls. Very Avril Lavigne circa five years ago.

And a lot of stores selling them, too. Entire tie racks in the women's department. Eek. I did this trend in the ninth grade, as a way to show a little individuality in my green kilt uniform. Does this mean I'm too old to do it again? I don't really want to... but what if I did? What to do?

The Hubs did some spotting of his own. On the flight home, he noticed Geddy Lee of Rush on our flight, with his family.

This is not the picture I took. I mean, obviously Geddy wasn't playing bass on the plane. Nor was there a wind machine or blue lighting in the background. I tried to take a picture, actually, but it turned out to be more of a blurry stick in the distance as I don't know how to use the zoom on my phone. When we arrived on the island airport and got on the ferry I noticed a limo waiting on the other side. It had a sign in the window saying "Chamberlain." The Lee clan got into the limo.

So just a note, if you become super famous and want to go incognito, don't choose the last name Chamberlain, or you might find your car whisking away with Geddy Lee inside.

Better to choose something more obscure, like Poutine.

Why I am Boycotting the Olympics

2008-08-22T06:00:00.001-04:00

I was very excited for the Olympics, only you know, sometimes with the Olympics you're not really sure when anything's on, but then, the receptionist at work handed out these handy dandy little glossy brochures that the CBC made with the ENTIRE schedule for the Olympic coverage. And I opened it with anticipation, and looked, and searched.... but NO WHERE WAS THERE ANY SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING COVERAGE.

What? There are days and days of Olympic coverage, pretty much non-stop, and the CBC can't find it in their hearts to cover one itty bitty HOUR of synchronized swimming?

It's not even as if the Canadians didn't have a chance at a medal. The duet team was in 6th after the free routine!

I decided I hated the Olympics.

But then, I went to my dad's for a few days and he and my stepmom are ADDICTED to the Olympics and when I said I hadn't watched any of it they looked at me, appalled, like I'd just reported that actually, no, I DON'T like Pizza. (Which would never happen, BTW).

So then, I started watching some Olympics and I got a little hooked with all the Michael Phelps stuff and then my dad told me that a girl I rowed with in high school was in the games and then, well, who doesn't want to watch the male divers in their skimpy banana hammocks?

When I explained why I wasn't watching (no synchronized swimming) my dad said that a sport should not be in the Olympics unless it could be played without a judge. To clarify, he was saying that all sports such as diving, trampoline, gymnastics and synchronized swimming should be cut. To make room for Javelin? Come on.

The Hubs got in on the debate. He said that only sports that originated with killing something to eat or moving for survival should be in the Olympics. Like Javelin. Running (for your life). Shotput (to kill a pig?). Swimming (from sharks)... You get the idea.

Either way, they were both saying Synchronized Swimming should be cut.

One of my editor friends is also a former synchronized swimmer (like me). She and I were discussing the lack of synchro in the Olympics, to which I said that if there were an All Synchro All the Time Channel on TV, I would subscribe. That's how much I love this sport. Which is why I was so set to not watch the Olympics.

But now it's after 11 pm (and past my bedtime) and I'm watching Gymnastics. Gymnastics! I love Gymnastics! But I'm watching it on NBC. I have no clue if NBC has boycotted Synchronized Swimming coverage too, but I don't have clear confirmation of that at this time, so for now, I'm sticking with them, even though their sole coverage is of course, of Americans. Oh well.

RIP Old Sicky Laptop

2008-08-20T06:00:00.001-04:00

My laptop has been on life support for a few weeks now, which is why blogging has been sporadic. It's been tough, not having a laptop, given that I've had a lot of writing to do lately, and even though it's called writing and not typing it turns out that editors, publishers, agents, and even other writers, all want the work I'm doing to be typed, not hand-written, but I didn't want to make my laptop feel bad.

Maybe he just needs a rest, I thought. So I left him for a few days.

Then, I tried to revive my laptop by fiddling with the cords and for a while, he'd work, his little green light glowing. But then, one day, he turned off and wouldn't turn back on again.

I had a funeral this morning for him. I played NKOTB's The Right Stuff.

He had the right stuff. For a long time. I typed Stuck in Downward Dog on that laptop, from the very start, way back in 2004, to the very finish, when I read the final typeset pages, in late 2006.

In the meantime, I've been using The Hubs' computer, which is shiny and new and feels sort of like playing inside a UFO. Not that I know what it's like being inside a UFO (although I have been watching Taken, the miniseries by Steven Spielberg that's on TV right now). Anyway, I'm not sure how long I can keep up using this computer, which means...

There may be a very pretty, shiny and pink laptop in my future. Maybe. Because I have to write, er, type, don't I? And what's the harm in doing all that typing on something pink?

There's no harm in that at all.

But for now, I'm still wearing black in mourning. RIP, old laptop.

Some summer reading...

2008-08-14T16:36:00.005-04:00

It's finally summer, and now there's fall everywhere: back-to-school flyers and all the summer shoes are on the sale rack...and there's nothing cute in my size. It's a sad, sad time. Which is why we have to ignore fall and keep pretending it's summer for at least another month! And how better to do that than with some long weekends, lounging outside, reading.

For the truth-seeker: Audition by Barbara Walters. I have to say, I wasn't going to read this. I've never been a huge Babs fan and the book is monstrous, and seriously, could she have talked any more about the affair in her pre-book-release interviews? But my bookclub picked the book, and so I delved into the 800 (very small font with not much space between the lines) tell-all.

It was really good. Long, but well, she's had a long life and career, and I can't imagine she's going to be writing another one anytime soon, so it sort of had to be that long just to include all the key details. And the affair? Clearly a marketing tool. I think it's 1.5 pages in its entirety.

To read by the dock: Ex-Cottagers in Love by J.M. Kearns. The Guelphite sets his debut novel at the Canadian cottage of his youth in a story about an overworked LA lawyer and his true love...

For the shoe-a-holic: Shoe Addicts Anonymous & Secrets of a Shoe Addict. Get both and read them while you're painting your toes, or rocking the baby back to sleep.

For the eco-conscious: Shopping for Vintage. Oh sure, it'll cost you a fortune to fill your wardrobe with designers mentioned in this book, but you'll be saving the planet by recycling! There's even a directory of the best stores to shop at in Canada. But Paper Bag Princess isn't listed, which is a bit odd. Nevermind -- the book's adorable and the perfect size for an end table.

Up next: I'm counting the days until Curtis Sittenfeld's American Wife is available, which is not until September 2.

And then John Green's Paper Towns (with its choose your own cover) comes out October 16.

Except, that's definitely fall. And I'm not counting down to fall.

Weekend update

2008-08-11T08:00:00.001-04:00

This weekend I went to a wedding. At the dinner table, a man in his mid-60s said to my husband: "Have you ever thought about vacationing in an RV?"

All I could think was, "Not with this wife." Which was slightly less tactful than what my husband replied: "Not until I'm retired."

Here's hoping we can never ever retire. Although, I do think it would be cool to drive that beast. Or, sit in the back and play RockBand and pretend you're a real band on tour. Or order pizza and have it delivered to the RV. I could probably do all that in about an hour. Then I'd be ready to go home and watch The Hills.

Job talk: Better than a bus driver?

2008-08-08T08:32:00.002-04:00

The other day, my friend and I were discussing other jobs we'd like to have. After all, we're supposed to have five careers in our lifetimes, so why not get started on the next one? My friend said she'd like to be a school bus driver. "You just get up in the morning, drive around, then go home, you have the whole day to do other stuff, and then you go pick the kids up in the afternoon and you're still home to watch reality TV at night."

True, but I think bus drivers have it hard. Remember how much crap they had to put up with - the taunting, the cat calls? I used to think they were so mean, driving away as you're running for the bus or screaming at us to sit down and shut up, but really, you'd have to be with all those raging teen hormones, just to protect yourself. My favourite school bus driver was this guy, who seemed like an adult, but was probably about 19 and he strapped up what was likely the original ghetto blaster ever (which now, if we're being politically correct, is called a boom box) with duct tape to the front of the bus, above his head. Then, he would blast AC/DC and Metallica, which droned us all out. At first, all the boys made fun of him for being so weird, but he couldn't hear their taunts, so eventually everyone just stopped and started liking him.

Still, I don't think I could be a school bus driver. I cry too easily.

But what I could be is a crossing guard. How fun would that be? Same hours, and you don't have to get a bus driver's license. And it's all little kids and they always love the crossing guard and bring her presents at the end of the school year and Christmas. Plus, all that walking back and forth across the intersection is like forced exercise! When I was a young MC, we had a super fat crossing guard. Like 300 pounds fat. We all loved her. Then one day, she got hit by a car. It was awful and she had to go to the hospital and she didn't work for months while she recovered. But then, when she came back she was SO skinny! And she said that getting hit by the car (and well, not dying) was the best thing that happened to her because it's like the car knocked the fat right out of her! And she never got fat again, no matter how much she ate. Can you even believe it? Now that's job satisfaction at its best.

Mad Men and Pretty Dresses

2008-08-05T09:49:00.003-04:00

This weekend, I started watching Mad Men. If you haven't heard of this series, it's about the advertising world on Madison Avenue in the 1960s. Everyone smokes everywhere, everyone drinks all the time--especially in their office, where they all have their own minibars, and all the girls wear the prettiest dresses, ever. My favourite character is January Jones, who plays a desperate housewife. Her dresses are the best, but even better, she matches her headbands and gloves to them, even if she's just washing the dishes. Which is what she mostly does when she's not lying on the fab leather chaise longue at the psychiatrist's office. So, so good.

Day 5 of the No Fun Food Diet

2008-08-01T10:41:00.005-04:00

It is now Day 5 of the No Fun Food Diet...

I have eaten a pound of baby carrots...

Some broccoli...

And a lot of lettuce.

But guess what? I discovered fun food.

First, though, I cheated and had a Soy Chai Latte from Timothy's on Day 2.

Oh so good, but oh so bad for me. Then I felt awful (physically but maybe a tiny bit morally). Then I got right back on the bandwagon of no bad food.

Only it turns out that there is tasty food on the no fun food diet! On the Internet, I discovered that the Booster Juice Mango Hurricane is non-dairy/non-soy. Excited, I went to Booster Juice to get it, which is when the fabulous Booster Juice girl told me that I could order ANY Booster Juice I wanted and they would make it non-dairy/non-soy. So then I got my favourite, Brazilian Thunder with sorbet instead of soy. Hurrah!

Also, little known fact: they will add a banana to any smoothie you like. Find the Matcha Monsoon a little too matcha-y? Add a banana? Think the Very Berry is very tart? Add a banana. I'm telling you, one little banana turns every smoothie into your new favourite.

Then, last night, I thought I would break.

The Hubs: "What should we have for dinner?"

I didn't want another carrot stick, head of lettuce or stalk of broccoli. He raised his eyebrows. "Pizza?"

He KNOWS pizza is my all-time favourite meal. He forgot I can't have it.

"I can't have pizza. Wheat..." I said sadly. Then I had a brainwave. "Magic Oven Pizza!" Their pizzas are made on spelt crusts. Then I remembered I can't have cheese anyway, so what's the point of pizza if you can't have cheese and have to eat it on cardboard? "Forget it. I can't have Magic Oven either."

The Hubs: "Oh... you can't have the $40 pizza? Darn." The Hubs does not think the Magic Oven Pizza is very magical at all.

But you know what I could have? Thai! Technically, I think the vegetables are sauteed in soy sauce, but there's no wheat in the Pineapple Fried Rice ...

or the Lobster in garlic white wine sauce! Mmm....

Five days almost down. I'm still alive.

Happy Long Weekend!

I do not have a collapsed lung...

2008-07-29T08:00:00.000-04:00

In my last post -- 37 things -- I mentioned I thought I might have a collapsed lung. Or anxiety. Well, after doing the meme, I decided I really DID have a collapsed lung. So I went to the doctor. Who told me that I was either having an anxiety attack because I thought I had a collapsed lung OR that I had a blood clot on my lung, which was making it hard to breathe. He told me the only way to find out was to get a chest X-ray and the only way to do that at 5 pm on a Friday was to go to the emergency.

So then I had an anxiety attack. I mean, wouldn't you if a doctor told you that you might have a BLOOD CLOT in your lung?

I was so crazy I couldn't even remember how to get to the hospital, but then he told me there was an emergency only a street away. But I couldn't find any Emergency and I had to keep sitting down to catch my breath before finally deciding that Urgent Care must be Emergency. Shouldn't there been some universal rule that the Emergency can only be called Emergency on the sign? I mean, of course an Emergency IS Urgent, but English is my first language and in my panicked state I couldn't even comprehend that it was the same thing. How long would people whose first language is NOT English have to circle the block until they figured that out? Or is it just me?

So I went to the Urgent Care centre and called the Hubs.

He: "There's an Emergency on that street?"

Me: "Yes. Apparently."

He arrived five minutes later. Clearly we weren't the only ones who didn't know this hospital had an Emergency because there were only six people in the waiting room (compared to about 60 if you go to any other ER in the city).

I filled out the intake form. Turns out if you check off "Difficulty breathing and chest pains" you bypass everyone else. Within minutes I was whisked away and put in a bed with a heart monitor hooked up to me.

Four hours, a chest X-ray, 10 vials of blood, heart monitoring and a Booster Juice that the Hubs brought me, I got to go home. The doctor told me I didn't have:

a) a collapsed lung

b) a blood clot on my lung

c) any signs that I'd had a heart attack.

Instead, I have some sort of strange virus that is causing chest pains and shortness of breath. He told me to rest and then on Monday start a strange diet where I cannot eat wheat, dairy, cheese, chocolate, sugar Diet Coke or essentially ANY of my favourite things for two weeks. What?! No! So then I had an anxiety attack. (Kidding). So this weekend I watched five episodes of Ghost Hunters, played one round of golf, went to see The Dark Knight, ate three slices of pizza, half a chocolate bar, a bowl of ice cream and watched the first episode of Shark Week!

My anxiety seems to have passed. For now, until the lack of chocolate, candy, cheese and caffeine sets in.

37 Things

2008-07-25T14:11:00.002-04:00

Stolen from the blogs of authors E. Lockhart and John Green...

37 Odd Things About Me

1. Do you like blue cheese?

Like it? I LOVE it. Any type of blue: Benedictine, Gorgonzola, Cambozola...

2. Have you ever smoked?

I tried - once - in grade nine because I thought it would make me cool. I hated it. The cigarette hated me too. I decided being uncool was cool, and smelled better.

3. Do you own a gun?

I thought this said "gum". I was like "Who doesn't own gum?" Then I realized it said "gun". Clearly an American initiated this meme. I don't own a killing gun, but I DO own a Glue Gun!

4. What flavor Kool Aid was your favorite?

I'm more of a Crystal Light kind of girl. It's tangier.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?

Not really. My doctor is funny.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?

I like them. But I can't eat the ones on the street. I don't like to eat anything standing on a sidewalk with car fumes blowing in my face.

7. Favorite Christmas movie?

A tie: Miracle on 34th Street (the remake - I'm a sucker for colour) and A Christmas Story (little known fact: the school is in my hometown).

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?

Timothy's Skim Chai Latte.

9. Can you do push ups?

Yes. About twelve in a row.

10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?

My engagement ring.

11. Favorite hobby?

Writing, reading. But not arithmetic.

12. Do you have A.D.D.?

Mild, I think. Or, it's just my excuse when I can't focus on one project at a time.

13. Do you wear glasses/contacts?

Yes, both. Not at the same time.

14. Middle name?

Chantel. I'm tricky that way.

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment?

I want to go outside and suntan, I am thirsty, I wish Ellen had better guests on today.

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink?

Water, Diet Coke, water.

17. Current worry?

I think I have a collapsed lung. Or hypochondria.

18. Current hate right now?

Hate be gone! I'm trying to remove it from my life. It's a waste of time.

19. Favorite place to be?

At home.

20. How did you bring in the new year?

I didn't bring it in. I left the cold outside.

21. Where would you like to go?

My balcony.

22. Name three people who will complete this?

Why do memes always assume the answerers are psychic?

23. Do you own slippers?

Of course! They're my favourite footwear.

24. What shirt are you wearing?

Black tank, fuchsia (did I spell that correctly?) sweater.

25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?

I don't think so. I'm not a porn star.

26. Can you whistle?

Yes, but only one note.

27. Favorite color?

Royal Marine.

28. Would you be a pirate?

No... I get seasick. I also like showers and shorts, and pirates seem dirty and overdressed all the time.

29. What songs do you sing in the shower?

I'll tell you tomorrow morning.

30. Favorite Girl's Name?

Mara. That's why she's my number one heroine.

31. Favorite boy's name?

Molson. I totally just made that up.

32. What's in your pocket right now?

Nothing. My pockets are sewn shut.

33. Last thing that made you laugh?

The cherries that are spread out around my living room because a certain four-legged friend thinks it's fun to bat them out of the bowl on the counter and play with them while I'm out.

34. What vehicle do you drive?

A black one.

35. Worst injury you've ever had?

I broke my arm when I was a baby. I don't remember it.

36. Do you love where you live?

Yes.

37. How many TVs do you have in your house?

One. But it's unfortunately the size of four normal TVs, but only displays one show at a time.

Celebri-tease

2008-07-25T07:00:00.002-04:00

Did you KNOW how much celebrity dirt you DON'T know when you DON'T read Entertainment Weekly every week? I'll tell you five things I learned today.

Madonna has a brother. He wrote a book.
Nicole Richie will guest star in an episode of Chuck.
The OC's Taylor Townsend (aka Autumn Reeser) will be in the season premiere of Pushing Daisies.
Before Katy Perry "kissed a girl" her name was Katy Hudson, but she changed it so we wouldn't confuse her and Kate Hudson.
The Peach Pit is being reno'ed for the return of 90210.

I have not been working very much...

2008-07-22T17:25:00.002-04:00

But I have been working on other things. Such as:

a) My tan. Shame! I know. Haven't I heard of skin cancer? But I have an excuse: Two of my childhood girlfriends and I met for a reunion this weekend and headed to Hockley Valley. Swimming, suntanning, spa-ing and catching up on gossip. This is the perfect getaway if you live in Toronto and want a quiet retreat from the city in just 45 minutes. It's not on a lake, but the outdoor pool was just as cold (but clean!), so really, it's the ideal compromise for cottage country near the city.

b) Writing about the new fall TV lineup for Tribute magazine. Now, I know I'm supposed to be writing fairly about ALL the shows on TV this fall (new, returning, favourites...), but I just have to say HOW CAN I TALK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE BESIDES 90210??? Especially, when the latest confirmed cast member is Shannen Doherty, as the high-school musical director! I'm trying, but it's difficult.

c) Golfing. If you are a girl and you like to golf (even if you are sucky at it), you should enter charity golf tournaments. For one thing, it's a great way to meet boys, since it's often mostly guys doing it. And, they always have prizes, but since there are few girls, you're almost guaranteed to win in one of the categories (if not for skill, for cutest outfit).

Four Things on a Friday

2008-07-11T08:46:00.005-04:00

1. I got up early this morning to come to work because we're on deadline, only to forget my umbrella and get caught in the rain halfway to work. With a white shirt on. Nice! Then, I arrived to find that the elevators hadn't been working for the past two hours. And the maintenance guys weren't sure how to make them work. Interesting. Finally, when the manager of the million telemarketers in our building looking like he was going to pop a vein in his forehead, they opened the doors to the stairs so that the telemarketers in the building could get to work. They work on the 2nd floor. I work on the 19th. I decided to just go for it. Thank goodness I left the stripper heels at home and wore flip-flops to work. Of course, the elevators still aren't working and I'm sitting in the office alone. I'm worried about what will happen if they don't get the elevators working at all today. What will I eat for lunch?

2. Someone sent me a press release about how no one's wearing sunscreen anymore, and they're tanning like there's no tomorrow. I guess sun damage was just a fad. Like leg warmers. Remember acid rain? No one talks about that anymore, either. Next up: this whole "green" issue.

3. On the Today Show, there was an expert talking about video games and how they're not just for kids anymore, but that adults are playing them too (ohhh...so that's what the PS3 is doing in my living room. I was worried I'd popped out an eight-year-old when I wasn't looking and had misplaced him). His point was that the violent games are really for "dads", but that there are even games for moms now, too. "Like the Wii Fit, so that women can lose weight."

What? So guys can sit around eating Doritos and virtually picking up strippers on Grand Theft Auto but women have to do the Step Class because we're all fat?

4. I'm in All David Sedaris All The Time mode right now. I only recently discovered him after one of my friends raved how funny his is, and now I'm addicted. I'm halfway through his latest, When You Are Engulfed in Flames, which I read when I'm sitting. When I'm walking, I listen to Me Talk Pretty One Day on my iPod. He was at Indigo last night but I couldn't go because I had my golf date with my instructor (and my husband, of course. Tres legit, don't worry.) But, tonight he's at McNally Books. I cannot wait. In the meantime, here he is on Letterman. Enjoy!

When Fiction Intermingles with Real Life

2008-07-04T17:32:00.003-04:00

I took a walk to Golf Town this afternoon, to pick up more pink balls. As I was roaming the store, I heard a man asking for something he'd put on hold, at the cash desk. The sales clerk, said, "No problem, George. The last name's Fowler, right?"

I turned to look. George Fowler. I knew that name. That's right, he's Lila's dad, I thought. Then I tried to recall how I knew Lila. Did I go to school with her, or was it my sister? But as George walked by I realized I didn't recognize him. Perhaps I've never met him, I thought. Should I stop him and say hi? As I debated this, it suddenly dawned on me. I don't know George Fowler at all. I don't even know Lila Fowler. That's because she was never my friend. She was Jessica Wakefield's best friend. In the Sweet Valley High books.

This isn't the first time that I have confused fiction with real life. Last weekend I was back at the homestead for my father's "60 is the new 50" birthday party. I'd gone over to say hi to our neighbours, and when I came back I mentioned to my dad that Mrs. Neighbour's sister was visiting from Vancouver.

"How long has she lived in Vancouver?" I asked.

"I think she's always lived there," my dad said.

"Not always," I corrected him. "Remember, she was in the Halifax Symphony, so she must've lived out east. Otherwise that was one heck of a commute."

My dad looked at me, a little like he might be losing his mind, but more like I was losing mine. "She's a stock broker. I don't think she's ever been in the symphony."

"A stock broker?" I shook my head. "No, she was DEFINITELY in the Halifax Symphony."

My dad's look now confirmed that he thought it was definitely me that was crazy.

And then I realized that I was actually confusing my neighbour's sister with Dave's sister. Dave, being the main character in Stuart McLean's Vinyl Cafe series. Hmm...

Kitty (I mean, Canada) Day

2008-07-01T22:10:00.012-04:00

I know yesterday was CANADA DAY and all, but to me it was KITTY DAY. Although we did go to Queen's Park and watch the kiddies getting their faces painted and playing Go Fish and Ring Toss at the carnival games and we got a red-and-white CANADA DAY frisbee, I kept thinking about a different kind of kitty: mine. And how I couldn't wait to get home. Why?

Because, I got The FURminator.

When my sister first told me about it, I thought Ho-Hum, Another Cat Brush. But then I saw the Pictures.

And I was amazed, but also sort of grossed out.

But then I started asking people about it and everyone swore it was the best thing since furless cats.

And so, we went to PetSmart. Where the PetSmart lady told us The FURminator cost $42.99. For the smallest brush.

What? I don't own a brush that costs $42.99. Surely Mr. Baz does not need a brush that costs that much. But I asked him. He said he REALLY wanted it. And it was KITTY DAY, after all. How could I deny him a KITTY gift on KITTY DAY?

And then, I watched the Video in the store, which is clearly playing just to suck all pet owners in. Except maybe Turtle Owners ...

and Fish Owners...

They should definitely NOT use this brush on their pets.

But I could not believe my eyes. I had to have The FURminator.

I took it home. And began the Ultimate FURminating Challenge:

The FURminator vs. Mr. Baz.

You think you're the FURminator? You will not take MY fur. Oh no, you won't. I will TERminate you, FURminator.

The FURminator managed to get a bagful of fur. Mr. Baz, however, managed to get some mean teeth marks into the FURminator.

Then I sat down to watch this trailer, for Kitty Kitty, the new book by Michele Jaffe, which came out yesterday. Awesome.

How did you spend your Canada Day?

Cottage country without the cottage

2008-06-26T09:32:00.002-04:00

I just got home from five days in the wilderness. I have a black fly bite on the top of my head. I thought it was a tumor, but it's itchy. Then I found a similar one behind my ear and another on my leg, so I figured, what are the odds I went to the country and got three tumours? I mean, I'm not exactly Wilderness Woman, but that's crazy.

Highlight of the trip: My sister's boyfriend, Crocodile Dundee (he's Australian), telling a story about a PAWN shop at dinner. The rest of us, staring at him in alarm, thinking that he's talking about a PORN shop in front of my father.

Second-place highlight of the trip: After my husband leaves to head back to the city for work, Crocodile Dundee breaks out his tighty blacky bathing suit - the one that makes my husband squirm - as a joke. While tanning without my glasses (leaving me near-blind) I see Croc walk past me, the tighty shorts in my face. I almost grab his butt as a joke, then notice that he's wearing a bright orange sun hat I've never seen on this trip. I refrain from the butt-grabbing, put on my glasses and realize it's an 80-year-old man. Croc is not impressed and begins doing situps with fervour.

Wanna buy a book?

2008-06-20T14:00:00.004-04:00

Over at my publisher-mate Louisa McCormack's site, she's written one of the funniest blog posts I've read in months, about how people react when they find out you wrote a book. Many want to know who your publisher is, more than what the book's about. I guess they just want to make sure you're not going to say Simmons Publishing and that someone – ANYONE – other than your husband or parents thinks that it's a valid book. Fair enough. Can I really blame them? It's actually an easier question to answer than the other popular one: "What's an upside-down dog?"

My favourite part is when someone says "Oh, I'll take a book, if you want" as though I've got too many zucchinis in the garden and I've already made enough zucchini bread to last a lifetime and what on earth am I going to do with the rest of these tubular squashes, so thank you for saying you'll take one!

My favourite reaction, though, when I tell someone that I don't have any copies of my book lying around (since it's not like they're Girl Guide cookies) but that they're at Indigo or Chapters, is one of distress or confusion, like I've just told them that they'll have to drive to an island in the Arctic and catch a fish then feed it to a polar bear without getting attacked if they want a copy of my book. So then, I usually end up feeling so badly that I'm inconveniencing them that I offer to pick up the book for them. To which they usually always agree. And then I cannot possibly ask them to pay me back (so NOT Emily Post-like), so then it ends up being a gift, and I slip the receipt into my Taxes file and try to forget about it until Tax Time when the Hubs asks me just how many times I've bought my own book at Indigo – and why.

A lot of times, okay? What's it to you? It's a write-off anyway, right? Then I bribe him with chocolate-covered peanuts so he won't make fun of me.

I don't actually mind buying my own book. I thought maybe it would be embarrassing if the bookseller noticed it was me on the back of the book, and then he'd be all like, "Oh no one else buys your book so you have to, huh?" But I think that's being a little narcissistic on my part. I've written ONE book. Danielle Steel or Nora Roberts I'm not. Also, it's clear that makeup and airbrushing does wonders to make the girl on the back of my book look like some long-lost relative of mine, and not me.

One time, however, the bookseller actually commented: "Good book. Pretty funny."

I wanted to leap over the counter and hug him. I didn't. But oh how I wanted to.

Emily Giffin!

2008-06-17T08:44:00.005-04:00

Last night, my friend Marissa and I went to see Emily Giffin at Indigo. We'd been planning it for weeks because we both LOVE her with capital letters and want her to be our BFF. As you know if you read this blog, she is my favourite. author. ever, so I couldn't wait to meet her.

I captured the event in pictures...

When we arrive, we see the sign announcing her signing. As I am taking a picture, the Indigo manager comes over to ask if we were doing a photojournalism assignment for high school. We decide we love him. Of course, Marissa is a bit of a scandal, being pregnant and all.

When we go to find a seat, however, we see that they're all taken! So, we have to go far, far, back in the store, behind this rope. It may be velvet, but we are very sad that we'll be so far away from Emily...

But then, the Indigo manager rushes over and says "You can't stand there! You're pregnant! Come with me!" Then he whisks Marissa and me away to the FRONT ROW - where there are 5 chairs with these RESERVED signs on them!

Little did he know that being eight months pregnant is a breeze for Marissa. High heels? No problem!

What was a problem, however, was the LCBO, directly across from our seats.

"I can't sit here!" Marissa says to me. "I can't stare at the wine! It's too distracting! I'm going to want to drink!"

I tell her she's being ridiculous. (Of course, I drank wine with dinner beforehand, while she stared longingly and sipped San Pellegrino. I'm a horrible friend).

But then, we see how close we're going to be to Emily, and she forgets all about the wine.

We are VERY happy in our front row seats.

Then, we realize that we'll be first in line to get our books signed, so we should buy our books now, before the event starts. I go first, so that Marissa can save our seats as I'm paranoid that I'm going to get thrown in the back for not being pregnant. When I come back, I give her my Indigo discount card to use. When she returns, I ask for it back. She stares at me blankly, then tells me she put it in her wallet. She blames it on pregnancy brain. Then she offers me her blue credit card instead. I like pregnancy brain a lot. I'm already dreaming of the new shoes I'm going to buy with my Marissa Trust Fund.

Finally, Emily appears on stage. She starts to tell this funny story about her friend and this guy that she liked who "got away." Then she says how he was so cute, "sort of like that guy in the back" and points to a guy who's behind the velvet rope (where we were supposed to be) and then she realizes that THAT's the guy. Everyone turns to stare at the guy. He's very cute. He turns beet red because 100 girls are staring at him.

When Emily takes questions, Marissa says she's going to ask her which of us she wants to be BFFs with. She doesn't end up asking her (because obviously Emily would want to be BFFs with both of us) but when she goes up to get her book signed, Emily asks Marissa what she's going to name her. Marissa says, "Emily." Emily says "Really?" excitedly. Marissa says, "No. Not really." Emily still signs Marissa's book. Then, she signs my book and I tell her that she inspires me to be a writer. She asks if I wrote a book and I tell her and she says she wants to read it. The Indigo Events Coordinator remembers meeting me at BookExpo and says he'll give her a copy!!

I'm sure she'll be too busy to read it (she has not only published 4 books in 5 years but she also is a mom of THREE!) but I'm still so flattered that she would even say she wanted to read it!!

Then we wave goodbye to the Indigo manager and head home from one of the best days ever.

The end.

Secrets and Lies

2008-06-16T09:58:00.006-04:00

What's a lie?

James Frey, Augusten Burroughs and David Sedaris all have new books out this summer – so Entertainment Weekly checked in with the latter author to find out why he's been able to escape the "you're lying" accusations, when the other two haven't. Recently, in an article entitled, "This American Lie", The New Republic writer Alex Heard wrote: "With some of his stories, especially the early ones, like in Naked...he’s taken every liberty a fiction writer [does]. It makes the story very funny, but also makes it something you shouldn’t call nonfiction.”

Responds Sedaris: "I’ve said a thousand times I exaggerate. Why is it news when somebody else says it?”

Maybe that's the trick. Call it what it is before anyone else can. In any case, Sedaris is very funny. So what if he exaggerates? I think the stories are funny because of the way he tells them. If I suddenly found out that they were about some fictional kid named "Ben" and not him, I don't really think I'd care. It's the same way that people are constantly asking Stuart McLean if he is "Dave" in The Vinyl Cafe series. He insists he's not, but that doesn't make us love Dave any less.

I think people just don't like to be duped. They want to know what they're reading - and if it's a good story it's going to be a good story whether it's truth, fiction, based on or inspired by true events. Anyway, it made me wonder, is Frey really a good writer? His most recent book is outright fiction and not at all based on any events in his life, so if it succeeds (and it's already a bestseller), then it would have to be because he's a good writer, no?

I didn't read A Million Little Pieces. At the time of the incident, I refused to support him. But when I heard about his latest novel, I decided to go back and read A Million Little Pieces, to see what I thought, now that it's been a few years. I wondered what I would think of the story as a novel. And you know what? It's not that bad. Sure, if I had read it thinking it was fiction and then at the end found a disclaimer saying the book was true, I'd probably have loved it even more. But I'm a sucker for a true story or any movie that's even remotely based on or inspired by real events. And isn't that all A Million Little Pieces is? A story inspired by true events? And in that case, it's a pretty good one.

A Shot at Love on The Bachelorette...

2008-06-11T09:00:00.002-04:00

Are you watching The Bachelorette? This season is SO good. I think the network figured out that not even the most faithful Bachelor addict can tune in for 25 weeks or whatever it used to be, so in this season all the episodes are TWO HOURS and DeAnna sends home THREE guys each week! It's DRAMA with capital letters, let me tell you. This week, she totally lost it with the guys, who -- aside from my boyfriends Jason and Jeremy -- were being IDIOTS.

As an aside, if you are watching A Shot at Love this season, don't you think that Kreepy Kyle and The Bachelorette's Jeremy look a lot alike? Weird.

Kreepy Kyle

Jeremy

I think Jeremy's the keeper of the two, based on his choice in women to marry. I mean, which girl would YOU want to bring home to meet your mom?

DeAnna...

Tila ...

DeAnna...

Tila...

But nevermind, both girls want to find love, and so do Kyle and Jeremy. As do all the other boys on The Bachelorette and A Shot at Love. Who are we to judge? Oh come on, we have to judge! That's the point of the show!

On Tila, I think that Brittany's going to win. Even though she said she HATES needles, she got a belly button piercing to show her love for Tila.

"I know I said I HATE piercings so getting my belly button pierced would seem like it was a BIG deal, so just pretend you didn't notice that I already have my lip pierced."

On The Bachelorette I think Graham's going to win.

"I can't be bothered to shave or wash my hair and I don't want to kiss you and I sulk a lot, but I love you, DeAnna...."

Jason is my favourite. Even though he's so sweet (He's a little like Matthew Broderick, no?) and she likes to play tonsil hockey with him and snuggle with him she's not going to pick him because he's a single dad and I think DeAnna wants a fresh start at making a family and to be the guy's only focus for a while, at least. Jeremy will be close - also a kissy-face contender, and she likes Jesse but he's too un-suitable for her, with his crazy sneakers and colourful jackets and shaggy hair. Also he's a pro snowboarder. How long is THAT going to last? Then what? Sneaker salesman? Anyway, her loins quiver for Graham, so even though he's acting like a bit of a dinkhead, she's going to choose him. At least, that's what I think. What do you think?

In the meantime, here's some things the boys need to learn. Really, all boys - on a reality show or not - could use these tips.

1. When a girl's around, don't play some stupid drinking game with the boys and act like a jerk. She's not going to be impressed.

2. When the girl wants to kiss you, don't get mad at her because she's kissing other boys (and girls) too. That's the point of the show. Okay, I guess in real life you can get mad if your girlfriend's kissing a billion people.

3. Don't tell a girl that she's a redneck. Even if she's from the south, it's an insult.

4. When you get alone time, don't talk about how you "really feel a connection" and "really hope" she'll "save a" place in her heart/rose for him/spot on her list/chance to get to know eachother better. Talk about something real. Ask her a question! Sigh.

5. When a girl wants to know how romantic you can be, DO NOT talk about roses. DeAnna gives away a billion roses over the course of the show. Roses are not romantic. They are a prop. However, when it comes to Tila, tattoos are apparently romantic, even though she has 17 already. So go ahead, get a tattoo. Or a piercing. Whatever.