Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff Also Missed Mother's Day

My new-mom friend Chezza commented that my last post was juuuuust the right length for her attention span at the moment and I laughed and laughed. Congrats, Chezza! I am sure that you are already a kick-ass mom.

But seriously, back to me. Chezza's comment reminded me that I totally forgot this thing that I was going to post for Mother's Day.

Naturally, my mother gave me the greatest gift of all - LIFE!! But this past Solstice, she gave me a gift of almost equal value - a video of my first year or so on the planet, which she had lovingly had transferred from super 8 to DVD. 

I was born in the 1970s, when documenting your child's every move on film was not so common. So this shit is GOLD!! I felt like a cat going through the mirror stage when I first saw it. 

Because you are neither me, nor my mother, I'm not posting the entire 15 minute video of me holding my toes, running around in my diaper at the waterpark, learning how to play ball and generally being adorable in my Osh Kosh B'Gosh overalls (although I do enjoy how I look like a teeny tiny lesbian).

BUT I did want to share my favourite minute and a half of the video, because:

1. Look how gorgeous my mom is! She is still that gorgeous.

2. Look how much like Jesus my dad looks! He looks more like a koala bear now.

3. FUCK I hated that Winnie the Pooh snowsuit. And also, that sled. There's a soundtrack that's pretty funny as well.

 

Creampuff Must Rethink Craigslist Strategy

Last week, I put this ad up on Craigslist. 

About an hour after I posted, I got a response.

"WOULD LIKE TO BUY. COLLEEN."

That was it.

Well...not everyone appreciates my rapier Craigslist wit. As per my strict "first come, first served" policy, I replied to Colleen and asked her when she wanted to pick it up.

"SATURDAY MORNING."

I told her that Saturday morning was fine, if she could get here by 9:30 a.m. because we had a social engagement (our lovely friend and houseguest Mome was taking us out for brunch and no one gets in the way of my goddamn brunch).

"SATURDAY 9:30 A.M. [Insert phone number here]."

I only give out our address to a Craigslist buyer once we've fixed a time to meet - and Colleen had also sent her phone number. So I gave her our address.

Fast forward to Saturday morning at 9:30,when Colleen fails to show up. I give her 15 minutes of leeway and then call her.

I get her voicemail which was, no joke, just someone grunting "COLLEEN" into the phone and then a beep.

Aw, BALLSACK.

I never used to have to worry about this shit when I lived in a building but now that we live in a house-like structure, in a neighbourhood where break-ins aren't unusual, I'm a lot more paranoid. Suddenly, I was pretty sure that Colleen was lying in wait for us to leave so that she could burgle my abode.

We briefly futzed around, waffling between just leaving the ottoman outdoors and hoping Colleen would leave the money in the mailbox and then angrily bringing the ottoman back indoors because I WANT MY TWENTY DOLLARS. 

Katr, Mome, Emmy Lou and I sat there in the car, torn. I really didn't want to get robbed...but I also REALLY wanted brunch.

"I guess I could just make brunch at home," I said in a martyr-like manner. Then Katr goes "Or we could just leave the dog behind."

My wife is a genius. An intruder would have to be very committed to try and rob our house with Emmy Lou in it. Because Emmy Lou is a loud, throaty barker. She barks at everyone who comes in the gate. She is awesome at it. She thinks it is her job. And on Saturday, IT WAS.

Thanks to Emmy Lou, we not only went to brunch with untroubled hearts, but also drove downtown to Mome's favourite Transylvanian bakery for nuga cake and to Commercial Drive so that I could grab a birthday present for my brother. And when we got home, Emmy was there, barking her fuzzy little head off. What a good dog. Good dog, Emmy. 

Colleen never called back or emailed.

This incident has caused me to reexamine my first come, first served Craigslist policy. Sometimes it works out great - but now that I think about it, there have been several times where the first person to respond doesn't ultimately end up being the buyer, because they're impulsively replying to Craigslist ads and don't have their shit together.

I got a second response to the ad about a day after first hearing from Colleen, which read, in part:

"I would like to purchase the ottoman, I do have a cat and I think he would quite enjoy it!"

The email also included the buyer's cell number and a firm offer to come pick up. And, mere hours after Colleen stood us up, Theresa showed up and bought our ottoman. She reports that her cat is LOVIN' it.

So I'm revising my Craigslist policy:

1. Buyer must comment on how funny my ad was or make a funny comment themselves or at least include a salutation in their email.
2. Buyer must indicate that they have an actual plan to pick up. Bonus points for using a phrase like "firm pick up" or "my husband has a truck and will pick up"
3. ALL CAPS MEANS NO OTTOMAN FOR YOU.

Anyway - Colleen, I hope you're okay and that nothing horrible happened to you. And if nothing horrible happened to you, I think it was pretty douchey of you to stand us up.

Creampuff Has Something For You To Do Over Lunch

Well, there's no way to say this without sounding like a giant dillweed, but I am kind of a big deal.

When Katr gets pulled over for her next DUI, I will be in the passenger seat shouting "Do you KNOW my NAME??" at the arresting officer and then looking demure in my mugshot. And if the arresting officer is a theatre fan who lives in Calgary and likes to be entertained on her lunch hour by witty and powerful plays, then she WILL know my name!

My one-act play Camp Victoria is WORLD PREMIERING at Lunchbox Theatre in Calgary next March - and it opens on my BIRTHDAY! Wooooo!!!

The play is inspired by real people and events - here's a photo of Faith Fenton and the VON nurses that Katr found and put up on a little Camp Victoria page, because she's the best.

I love these gals.

Left to right: Margaret Payson, Rachel Hanna, Georgina Powell and Amy Scott.
Faith Fenton of the Toronto Globe is on the right.

Margaret Payson, Rachel Hanna and Faith Fenton are the three characters in the show. I love the look both my nurses are both giving the camera, like "Really? We have work to do." whereas Faith is all "I'm looking towards my FUTURE."

Speaking of gals, I don't think I'm supposed to talk about the cast yet but they're SUPER AWESOME and I'm totally thrilled that they will be donning corsets and getting loaded onstage together for your amusement. And I'm equally thrilled that Glenda Stirling is directing, because she too is SUPER AWESOME and really smart and will make me look almost as smart. Hashtag: WINNING.

Seriously, though...let's be serious. It's not every day that an artistic director thinks that one of my funny little corset plays are "right" for their "audience" and like many writin' types, the majority of my plays have been produced BY ME, at festivals and cabarets and workshops and the like. So the idea that Lunchbox Theatre is "doing the show" and all I have to do to provide some rewrites and show up to see it is weird and fantastic. So huge thanks to the lovely folks at Lunchbox for including me in what looks to be a pretty tremendous season. I'm really excited to be a part of it.

So hey! If you're in Calgary in March of 2014, I hope to see you at Camp Victoria! And in the meantime, you can follow Lunchbox Theatre on Twitter and Facebook.

Corsets!

Creampuff's Skunk Habitat Update

One year ago Saturday, I posted about how the skunk habitat next door had been torn down to make way for a new housing development like ours.

While I wasn't thrilled about the upcoming noise and endless dustiness, I WAS pretty thrilled to have an actual dwelling next door instead of a fire hazard hovel where skunks and badgers partied into the wee hours and then fought with raccoons outside our bedroom window. The developer, Ken, was very friendly and assured me that it would be finished in six months.

HAHAHAHAHAA!

Even then, I knew that was bullshit, but at first, I really thought he might make it. The initial digging and cement pouring and framing of the house went pretty quickly. I actually went out to take a photo of it every day, because I am a dork who is excited by creation! So here's a short little construction slideshow (if you can't see the damn slideshow, here's the set on Flickr):

Ken was SO zealous that we often heard him working well past the 8 p.m. city bylaw deadline for "construction work" and once, on a Sunday, we actually called the bylaw officer to shut 'im down, because IT'S THE LORD'S DAY. But he remained civil to us - in fact, one time, when I complained to him that our garbage didn't get picked up because one of his trucks was blocking the alley, he beetled over and put our garbage in his truck to take to the dump.

I liked Ken. And I wished him the best with his box-y house.

And then...I don't know what happened. But I know what was happening next door - big fat NOTHIN'. Maybe he ran out of money? Probably he ran out of money. For months on end, aside from a little random hammering after 5 p.m., there didn't seem to be anything going on at the house (inside OR outside). I stopped taking my daily photo back in September, because it was just the same damn photo. In the interim, here are the exterior developments I did not photograph:

1. They put tar-paper up.

Fast forward to March 2013. It's been a year! And it's still not finished. But I was still holding out hope that soonish there would be a sweet, modern-looking pad next door. Until last week, when it started to look like this:

Ugh.

I was excited when I saw the red flashing around the roof, because I love red. And I was also excited when I saw the dark blue panelling (on the ground floor - you can't really see it in this shot, because the 2-5-10 Home Warranty sign that's not tied down and likes to blow up and whap passerby in the face is in the way), because I thought it looked niiiice.

But I was not excited when a bunch of tiny rocks started pinging off our back windows last week and I came out to discover that instead of using that nice wood panelling all over the house, Ken has opted for incredibly ugly sort of pebbly stucco finish instead.

Oh, Ken. WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??? I'm sure it's just cheaper but it just looks so terrible, Ken! 

I honestly don't know why I'm so distressed about Ken and his stucco decision. I'm thinking about it A LOT...just, way more than anyone should. And why?

It's not my house. I don't have to live there. I barely have to see it from my yard. I guess I'm just worried that prospective buyers will be as shallow as I am and won't want to live there either and then THE SKUNKS WIN.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

Creampuff Pretty Much the Oldest Nerd at the Book Signing

As you may recall, last Tuesday, I nerdishly lined up to buy Clockwork Princess - THIS Tuesday, I nerdishly lined up to get my book signed by the author Cassandra Clare ZOMG SQUEE. 

The book signing was at 6 p.m., and I couldn't get there until around 4 p.m.. I saw on the Twitter that the first person in line showed up at 7:30 a.m. (FOR REAL) and my heart was gripped with fear. 

By the time I arrived, the line was so long and winding that I couldn't figure out where it started or ended.

A bemused elderly Chapters employee had to lead me through the History, Fiction and Travel sections before depositing me in the Young Adult section, with a table full of Twilight and lot of very young adults, one of whom had to show Old Lady Rowe how to put on her wristband. 

Being at the back of the line blows, BUT *I* didn't have to stay there, because last week I made three AWESOME LINE-UP FRIENDS (Star Trek names for their protection = Fafe, Nicz and Tesc). After a flurry of texting, I discovered that Nicz and Fafe were further up in the line, in the Health and Wellness section and I got to go join them. HA ha! See you later, Young Adult suckas!

Speaking of Young Adult, I made sure to finish Clockwork Princess (So. Many. Feels.) before going to this signing, so that I wouldn't be spoiled on anything, only to discover that a lot of other people HADN'T finished the book so we were encouraged to keep our voices down when discussing what happened in the book.

I was like OMG, YOU LAZY FUCKS, YOU HAD A WHOLE WEEK! Fortunately, I only said that in my head, because the woman in line behind us explained that she let her tween daughter read the book first and that's why she was just a third of the way done and I felt bad for almost calling everyone who hadn't read the book a lazy fuck. Still, it kind of put a damper on the "What did you think about the part where ---" discussions I'd been looking forward to. Clearly, I'll have to find a good nerdly forum somewhere to air my feelings about the ending.

Speaking of books one hasn't read - Cassandra Clare was not the only author at this event. Totally hilarious and delightful YA author Sarah Rees Brennan was also there. I'd never read any of her books, but two of my lineup friends were all "Yeah yeah, Cassie Clare but OMG, SARAH REES BRENNAN, I'M GOING TO CRY!!!", so I bought The Demon's Lexicon as well, on their recommendation. And FYI, am very much enjoying it.

Tesc and Nicz dressed up for the occasion:

Some Shadowhunter runes...and a Team Nick costume I don't yet understand, but I'm assured all will be clear when I finish The Demon's Lexicon.

Fafe and I did not, because cos play is not mandatory. However, when in Nerd Rome...you MUST have your picture taken with the Chapters Will and Tessa costumed book characters:

The guy on the right is actually the Chapters employee who sold me my copy of Clockwork Princess. I hope these two very sweet people got paid extra for being groped by crazed book nerds all ding dong night. They were lovely.

After nearly two hours in line, the seating process began and thank god for Nicz, who lined up at 3 p.m., thus ensuring that we all managed to get seats for the Q&A (we were, in fact, almost the last 4 people to get seats and felt very smug). 

Katr found this photo of me on Twitter - hahahahahahahaha

There was a really good DJ. We did a lot of chair dancing.

There was a super sexy City of Bones movie poster, so we all took Tesc's photo next to it.

Then there was a lot of screaming, because the authors arrived.

Necz nearly DIED because Sarah Rees Brennan came out in the audience and STOOD. RIGHT. NEXT. TO HER.

Nerds had a lot of questions.

If you are so inclined, you can watch the whole Q&A here. Both Cassandra Clare and Sarah Rees Brennan are hilarious and generous with their fans and it was really fun:

I want you to know that even though I was there for this live, I will probably watch the whole 30 minute video again.

Then, came the signing frenzy - which was actually very well organized. Which is good, because SOME people had brought a lot of books.

Hilariously, I have a whole whack of photos of me chatting to the super lovely Sarah Rees Brennan, whose books I have yet to read...

...and not a single one of the two brief seconds where Cassandra Clare signed my book (she was also super lovely - but literally, two seconds, because SO MANY PEOPLE BEHIND ME). Book signings...always leave you wanting more. Fortunately, afterward, there was bubble tea.

And now...signed books!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and this one:

Nerdaciousness = COMPLETE. For now...

Creampuff is Too Old To Be Here

I have always felt like a bit of a late bloomer in certain areas. Not in the boob areas, but more in the "youth experiences" areas that movies and tv tell us we should be experiencing. I was 26 the first (and only) time I ever got drunk enough to barf. I didn't go to a real indoor rock concert until I was 27.  And while I've been a fan of many things - books, movies, bands, performers - I was never a screaming, crying fan, trying to get up to the front of the stage to see my idols up close. I never waited at the stage door to get anyone's autograph. I never swiped an ABBA turd.

While I do identify as a huge nerd, I am also very shy and don't wear my fanatical heart on my sleeve very often. In fact, I think I can count my legitimate fan grrrl experiences on one hand:

1. The time I got Simon Callow to autograph his book Love is Where It Falls (and subsequently hated the book SO HARD but can't get rid of it, because Simon Callow signed it).

2. The time I got Sarah Waters to autograph her book Fingersmith.

3. The time we went to the first night midnight screening of the third Lord of the Rings movie (that one's on Katr).

4. The time we lined up with hundreds of kids outside the Van Dusen Gardens to get the last Harry Potter novel and I accidently took this photo of this random man, which is really hilarious to only me.

 
5. The time I met Meg Tilly at Northern Voice.

All this to say that it's been awhile - but I'm going to have to start counting my fan grrrl forays on TWO hands after this week and I am FAR too old to be this excited.

I got a copy of Cassandra Clare's YA fantasy novel The Clockwork Angel for Christmas a couple of years ago and found myself oddly, crazily twitterpated. It's the first book in a trilogy - the second book, The Clockwork Prince, came out last year and the third and final book, The Clockwork Princess came out out...TODAY. And you guys...I LINED UP to get it.

 

(Thanks to Katr for finding this photographic evidence of me in the line on Twitter. HAHAHA)

But that is not all - NO NO. I not only lined up to get the book, but I also lined up to get a wristband because next Tuesday night, Cassandra Clare is coming to Vancouver and because I have a wristband, she will SIGN MY BOOK ZOMG.

While I knew I was nerding out to get this book, I didn't initially plan to go to Chapters Metrotown super early to line up. There were 400 wristbands available, after all, plus:

"It's at 9:oo a.m.," I said to Katr. "Won't most kids be in school? Surely no one will be there."

"Uh...it's spring break," said Katr - quite gently, which was kind.

"Oh," I said, fear blooming like narcissus in the pit of my stomach. "I...oh."

Still, I planned to play it pretty cool and leave around 8 a.m. for the 9 a.m. opening. Then, at 7:15 a.m., while I was eating my breakfast, I saw on the Twitters that a line had already formed starting at 7 a.m. NERDS! I left at once, my breakfast unfinished. Katr wished me godspeed as I hurtled fatly out the door.

Sidenote: I hate the Metrotown Mall. Right after we moved here, Katr and I took a trip to Metrotown to buy some things for our apartment. We parked underground, did our shopping, came back down to the parking garage and then couldn't find our car. For HOURS. We were pretty sure the car hadn't been stolen - we quite literally could not locate where it had been parked in the first place.

As it turns out, this was largely on Metrotown, because there are two separate parking garages that do not connect with each other and one has a "yellow" section and one has a "gold" section. Do you know what colour "gold" paint looks like? FUCKING YELLOW, METROTOWN, YOU UNIMAGINATIVE FUCKS. We swore never to return.

But for The Clockwork Princess, I made an exception.

I got to the mall about 7:55 a.m. and was only 70 people from the front. SCORE!

I expected a long, boring wait in line fondling my iPhone and fielding questions like "Is one of these girls your daughter?" but the great thing about lining up for a book and a wristband is that everyone else in line is super into these books as well and there is SO. MUCH. TO. DISCUSS.

The Chapters was fully prepared for this fan onslaught - once the doors opened, we moved through the buying/squeeing process very efficiently and in no time at all, we were gathered just past the cash register to have our photos taken...with the book.

I don't know why I love this trilogy in particular so much but I DO, I DO love it. Maybe it's because it's set in Victorian times and I like things that are Victorian. I am seriously like a 13 year old with these books. I'm actually rereading the first two this week so I can really savour the last one - Cassandra Clare assumes that all of her readers are crazy fans and she doesn't waste time with expository nonsense in her books - everything picks up right where it left off and if you don't remember who the Magister is or what the deal was with Tessa's brother, too bad for you, idiot.

What's hilarious, though, is that while I LOVE the Infernal Devices series (those are the Clockwork ones), I've read Clare's first series, The Mortal Instruments (movie coming out this August!) and, even though it's set in the same Shadowhunter world, with some of the same characters, I thought The Mortal Instruments were no screaming Jesus. And I read them while blissfully happy and drunk in Mexico and still gave them only 3 stars, so that's saying something. I'm just passing this on, in case my nerdaciousness is contagious and you're thinking of checking these out. You're welcome.

 Stay tuned for next week, when I return to Metrotown for...THE SIGNING. 

Creampuff Reviews 'Whip Smart: Lola Montez Conquers the Spaniards' by Kit Brennan

I don't usually review books on my blog for two reasons:

1. When I read other people's book reviews on their blogs - like Eliza's Are You My Mother review on her blog This Wheel of Many Parts - I remember that I'm not that smart.

2. It's hard to be funny in a review unless you're reviewing Jean Auel's latest cave porn. 

But when a nice publicist name Lauren offered me a free copy of Whip Smart: Lola Montez Conquers the Spaniards by Kit Brennan in exchange for...well, whatever I wanted to write about it, I found I could not refuse. Because just look at the cover!!! YES, HELLO. HELLO, LOLA MONTEZ.

Fortunately, I really enjoyed the book - it was the best kind of melodrama, full of danger, suspense, passion and interpretive dance.

Based on the real life of one of the 19th century's most outrageous women,Whip Smart aims to chronicle the mysterious "lost year" where young Eliza Rosanna Gilbert effected her transformation from aspiring Irish actress to fiery Spanish dancer Lola Montez. 

Fresh from a failed marriage and eager to avoid the ensuing divorce trial that would make her name mud in London, Eliza is willing to do anything it takes to make her dreams of stage fame come true - including accepting a shady paid trip to the Continent to continue her training as a dancer.

Once there, she is thrilled to discover she'll finally be treading the boards in a hit show ... and less thrilled to find out she'll be expected to act as a spy for exiled Spanish regent Maria Cristina (the previous spy had his ears sent back in a box, so...ha ha.) What follows is a pretty exciting series of intrigues, nail-biting border crossings, mysterious murders, risky plots, secret rendezvous, a torrid love affair and some really fabulous clothes.

Lola herself is hilarious - passionate, devil-may-care, intensely self-interested and above all, a survivor. Unbound by the sexual mores of the day (it's the 1840s), she knows her smoldering good looks will get her where she needs to go and she's unconcerned about using her wiles on whomever she meets. For all of her passion and artistic inclinations, she's refreshingly practical about how the world works and you just have to admire her chutzpah as she seduces everyone from generals to members of parliament to prime ministers, all while trying to unravel the mystery of the shadowy figure trying to murder her.

Basically, Whip Smart had everything I like: corsets, a strong female protagonist who doesn't do idiot things for love, a gripping plot and some sexy times, all set against a fascinating historical backdrop. I really appreciated Brennan's meticulous research into the Carlist wars and Spanish politics at the time, which was really interesting and all new to me.

Whip Smart is told as a flashback after Lola's first successful performance in London - kidnapped by unknown agents, she's forced to account for her year of adventure in Spain and lays it all out for the reader. It took me a little while to get into the story, but once she leaves England, it became a serious page-turner. I was so into it, in fact, that I found the book's ending a little abrupt - but as Brennan's currently penning a sequel, I suppose she just wanted to leave us wanting more.

Honestly, the ONLY thing lacking for me was context for Lola's outrageous voice and impetuous choices. If I didn't already know she was to become a flamboyant historical figure, her voice would have come off as a titch implausible.

As most of you know, I'm an historical fiction nerd and I'd never heard of Lola Montez before reading Whip Smart - not really knowing who she was to become made it a little harder to appreciate this chronicle of her transformative year(s). I would personally recommend a brief Wikipedia entry on Lola Montez pre-read  in order to truly appreciate the crazy life she led - and to appreciate how well Kit Brennan seems to have captured Lola's indomitable spirit.

The book is available on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble - if you're a corset-lovin' history nerd like me,  you can't go wrong! I'm looking forward to the next one (fingers crossed there'll be lesbians in it! A girl can dream...)

Creampuffs Have Been Watching a Lot of TNG

All of Star Trek: TNG is now on Netflix and Katr and I cannot stop.

Every night, we're like: "What should we watch?" and then we pretend like we're going to watch something other than TNG but then we totally fucking watching TNG.

We're already on Season 4. A lot of my dreams lately have involved unitards, turtlenecks (the clothes of the FUTURE) and Guinan giving me life advice.

I have a lot of things to say about TNG, but they may have to take up a whole n'other post, because this is about how, when watching an episode in Season 2, I was reminded of the time my father totally ruined Star Trek: TNG for me.

When I was a young teen, all of my other friends were fawning over the hunky, grown up movie stars of the day (I'm old, so we're talking Christian Slater, Tom Cruise before he was creepy, maybe Harrison Ford if you had daddy issues). I, on the other hand, took care to point my ardour at young Hollywood. I reasoned that it was ridiculous to have a crush on an older gentleman, because by the time I was old enough for courting, he would be too old for me.

Because our age difference was surely the only thing that was keeping Christian Slater from showing up at my door.

Also, I was gay, so while I still picked boys to crush on, they were young, pretty boys who kinda looked like girls. You can only imagine my confusion when I saw Mary Stuart Masterson in Some Kind of Wonderful, who was a girl who looked like a pretty boy. MIND. FUCKING. BLOWN.

Anyway, all this to say that yes, SHUT UP, I liked Wesley on Star Trek: TNG. He was smart...he was respectful...he had a slim, girlish figure in his unitard. I now know that Wesley was greatly maligned by certain factions of the fandom, but I do feel a little justified in my crush now that the actor who portrayed Wesley, Wil Wheaton, has turned out to be such a funny, likeable, internet geek-god.

So anyway. I LOVED Wesley and in Season 2, Episode 10: The Dauphin, Wesley falls in love for the first time with the young soon-to-be leader of another world, Salia. Their flirtation begins over Wesley showing Salia how to use the food replicator to create a delicious Thalian chocolate mousse, which she delicately tries with a finger and then leaves the rest. RUDE. She doesn't DESERVE that mousse!

My father joined me on the couch as I watched Wesley experience the sturm und drang of first love; going to older crew members for lurve advice; discovering that Salia had a secret (spoiler alert: she's a shape-shifter!); feeling betrayed by her deception; acting like a douche when she comes to say goodbye.

I totally understood where he was coming from. One minute she's a girl - the next, she's a screaming hairy beast - BETRAYED. But naturally, Wesley, being Wesley, has a change of heart and does the right thing.

At the end, just as Salia is leaving to rule her warring world, sure that Wesley will stay mad at her forever, Wesley shows up in the transporter room! With a cut glass dish of Thalian chocolate mousse! My heart leapt; my lip quivered. I thrilled to the moment, young love recognizing young love.

Wesley holds out the mound of chocolate mousse and says something to Salia like "I brought you something." And my dad says "A giant turd?"

FURIOUS.

I recounted this anecdote to my father over the phone a few weeks ago and once again, he died laughing at his own joke. Philistine.

Creampuff Critiques Some Fancy Tea

My original title for this post was going to be "Creampuff Critiques Some Fancy Ass Tea", but you know there are going to be those people who say "What's "ass tea"? Heh heh heh" and then I would be forced to punch them in the junk. Because that is the mood I am in today.

As I mentioned in my new year's post, one of my lovely Solstice gifts was a collection of caffeine free teas from Davids Tea, which has apparently become ubiquitous without my knowledge. There are 8 of them in the greater Vancouver area alone. This David is everywhere, peddling his tea! His fancy, fancy tea.

I was thrilled to receive the gift set of 9 loose leaf herbal teas, because loose leaf tea is the coolest kind of tea and I LOVE sets of things SO MUCH, it's like a sickness.

I didn't know much about David and his tea and at first glance, nothing seemed amiss. Upon a closer reading of the labels, however, I did note that, of the 9 teas in my gift collection, 8 of them contained either sugar (in the form of candied fruit) or "artificial flavours". Huh.

I'm certainly no tea snob - my usual is Celestial Seasonings, if you must know - but the sugar and "flavours" gave me pause. So I approached the tea with a more critical palate than I might otherwise have done.

After nearly a month of tea drinking, I have completed my survey of these 9 teas and I now present my findings to you.

Top 3 Teas

Green & Fruity

It's not super green, but it is pleasantly fruity. 

Midsummer Night's Dream

Citrus-y and delightful. Makes me feel like a fat fairy.

Organic Crème Brûlée

Rooibos-y with a slight caramel flavour. A very grown up sort of tea. Probably my favourite of the teas. Also, interestingly, the only one without candied fruits or artificial flavours.

Middle 3 Teas

Jessie's Tea

This weird lavender and coconut mix grossed Katr right out, but the grossness grew on me - it kind of reminded me of my brief love affair with Diet Pepsi Jazz Strawberries n' Cream. SUUUUUPER gross and yet...you keep drinking it.

Bear Trap

A pleasant brew with a berry flavour. No screaming Jesus, but not offensive either. I don't know that any bear worth her salt would go for it - maybe an idiot bear who'd never tasted real berries.

Organic Detox

According to the label, this one SHOULD be Mother's Little Helper, a soothing blend of peppermint and lemongrass that's supposed to shut your kids up. But I got "Organic Detox" in the box instead, DAVID. I am a pussy who does not enjoy green or black teas and this one has both, so it's also caffeinated and has that hard taste I do not care for. But it's "detox", which isn't supposed to feel good. So the masochist in me knows I'll probably drink it again. Maybe after yoga.

NO

Forever Nuts

I assume the name refers to a hobo's nuts. Because that's what this tea tastes like. A hobo's nutsack dipped in honey.

Goji Pop

Oh, I REALLY wanted to like this one, but my first cup was my last. It tastes like the inside of a tween girl's backpack - sort of like rubbery sweet My Little Pony ass mixed with cherry chapstick.

Coco Chai Rooibos

Some of you may have seen my Facebook status about this tea. I saved this tea for last because it contains all the things I love. Coconut. Chai. And rooibos. What could go wrong?? Well, everything. I could not even finish my cup. It was like Satan's asshole. I was FORCED to make myself a latte just to recover from the horror.

I realize that tea is a matter of taste and that my taste is perhaps pedestrian. Lots of people claim to "enjoy" green tea, for instance (GAH), and a few of my favourite people defended poor, beleaguered "coco chai rooibos" and said they LOVED it, LOVED it! But it's my blog and I can bitch about any tea I want! HA ha!

Mmmm...fat fairy...

Creampuff Passes on Tips for Your Golden Globe Party

I'm not sure how, but in the last year my email address seems to have been added to some PR firm's "people to contact with our weird crap" list.

Usually I ignore these emails launching books by rich white people who've finally "found their voice" or press releases about movies where straight people hurt each other's feelings, but today's email was kind of fun and, as the PR firm suggests, I'm going to "share it with my readers"! Because I know that all of you will be dropping thousands of dollars this week throwing your Golden Globe shin dig! Right? 

Behold - Hollywood's MASTER party planner Bronson Van Wyck's tips for your party this weekend.

I hate awards shows. Watching people in evening wear masturbate for three hours is exhausting.

I am tempted to watch this year's Golden Globes, however, because - let's all say it together - TINA FEY AND AMY POEHLER!!! Wooooo! While we stopped watching 30 Rock a few seasons ago because it started to suck beyond belief, I still think Tina Fey is the bees knees. And Park & Rec is one of our favourite shows.

Since we might actually watch this year, I felt it behooved me to read Bronson Van Wyck's Golden Globe party tips and try to follow his examples, with a few modifications:

• Instead of the red carpet in front of the door, I will instead sweep up the insane piles of bird shit that bespeckle our patio (birds have been nesting in our eaves and our patio is their crapper). Instead of the "flashing paparazzi bulbs", I will stand by the door and switch the porch light on an off repeatedly as guests come up the walk.


• Instead of a bubble machine, I will create "magical circular lightness" by bouncing a basketball off of approaching guests' heads while yelling "Think fast!" As for the "treasure chest" of props, our guests can duke it out over our one feather boa and my furry Russian hat. New fun party rule that Bronson didn't think of - if you don a "prop", the prop is the only article of clothing you are allowed to wear. 


• Instead of serving Moët & Chandon, the official Champagne of the Golden Globes, we will serve club soda, gingerale or beer, because we are not pretentious twats. I like the idea of canapés being inspired by the best picture nominees but who the fuck has time for that? I will be whipping up a batch of my famous "things I bought at the Safeway".


• I definitely think that keeping guests entertained during that CONSTANT COMMERCIAL BREAKS is an important hostessing duty. But "Bobbing for the Golden Apple" isn't something Kate and I like to do in front of guests. Instead, during the commercial breaks, Katr will be reading from The Code of Ur-Nammu in the original Sumerian. Who says the Golden Globes can't be educational?


• "Hollywood and Gold" is not our theme. That theme is SO LAST NIGHT, Bronson. Instead, in homage to Tina Fey, our theme is "Filling a Slanket With Your Farts" and we will certainly be sure to keep it fun. 

So basically, Katr and I will be watching the Golden Globes alone, wearing only a boa, a Slanket and a Russian fur hat collectively. How about you guys?