Creampuff Revolution

Creampuffs at the Spa

As I fleetingly mentioned in my post about our trip to Mexico, Katr and I want to the spa on the very first day we were there.

Katr went because she LOVES the spa. She loves being exfoliated. She loves being wrapped in seaweed. She loves being rubbed for money. She doesn't care who sees what in the confines of the spa. She loves it.

I, on the other hand, don't really enjoy strangers touching me and want to throw up in my mouth a little when I think about experiencing the above-noted spa activities. I do not love the spa. But I do love Katr. And since it was her birthday and since we were in Mexico, I agreed to throw caution to the wind and join her in what the resort spa called the "Humanity Ceremony for Two".

Me and Katr at the spa, being human together. Oh, wait...yeah, this isn't us.

Here's what that means:

HUMANITY CEREMONY FOR TWO
Initiate your private ceremony with pu-erh tea for its detoxifying and calming effects and aura cleansing with sage. Next, enjoy a foot ritual with infused lavender flowers and essential oils followed by a private mud therapy bath for two where you will apply an aromatic exfoliation to each other, revitalizing the skin with cinnamon, cardamom, ginger, hazelnut, rice, sesame and bamboo. Your treatment continues with a warm bubbling and nutrient vanilla and orange bath while soothing hands massage the scalp. 

Now that your body and mind are renewed, prepare for a silk sybarite body wrap to restore energy and nurtures your skin. Conclude your Miilé spa indulge with an Excellence Massage treatment.

Basically, this was my worse nightmare. Listen - I am all about pants off at home. But not at home - PANTS ON.

USUALLY when Katr tempts me into the spa, I get a facial (pants on) or a pedicure (pants also on). But this was a full on, three hour pamper fest where, for at least part of it, my ass would be hanging out. Fortunately, we were at an all inclusive resort, so I did what any spa-phobic person would do before their spa appointment - I got a little drunk.

The spa treatment starts off with an hour long hydro-therapy circuit, which is, simply put, the shit. It was basically like a series of Last of the Mohicans-style waterfall scenes, intermixed with scenes you don't see in the film, like the "Dry Sauna of Death" scene, the "I'm rubbing handfuls of crushed ice in your private places" scene or the "Just when you think it's over, there's a drive-by massage, which you don't see coming because there's a lavender-scented towel covering your eyes" scene. Pretty intense, is what I'm saying.

After the hydro therapy circuit had really woken us up, we headed in for the main event.  I have to say that I'm sure the two spa technicians assigned to us were terrified when they saw that Godzilla and Mothra had arrived for their Humanity Ceremony, but they were very professional and lovely.

There was some delicious tea. There was the side-by-side foot ritual (the "ritual" was that they "rubbed" our "feet" with some kind of "oil".)

Then it was time for the "private mud therapy bath". This, I must admit, was the sole reason I'd agreed to do this thing - because I thought that rubbing mud all over each other in a steam room would be super hilarious and fun. 

As it turns out, it was indeed super hilarious - because the steam room was a very tight fit (even for average sized people it would have been wee) and also, the "mud therapy" was about two tablespoons of shizz per person. So basically, we squeezed into this steam closet and had enough "mud" to exfoliate one body part each. I chose my left elbow. It felt really great.

Then there was this part where you get into a jetted tub and they rub your head for like half an hour and you try to convey to the spa technician - through hand signals and constant giggling - that the intense farting sounds she's hearing are due to the tub jet friction against the bathing suit you refused to take off and not you just letting 'em rip one after an other after another.

Following the head-rub-tub was the silk wrap. This is where the shit got real. Pants were off and some kind of silk lotion was slathered on and then we were trussed up in plastic and covered with blankets and left alone on our tables with plinky plonky music playing. I expected to be panicking but instead, I fell asleep. Thank god for the 4 mimosas I'd had for breakfast.

I was awakened by my spa lady, Rosa, busting into my plastic tube and ushering me off to the shower. And then...came the massage.

It's been a long time since I had a massage. Like maybe 2006. And to be honest, I was kind of expecting a plinky plonky spa massage. But no. Tiny Rosa climbed on and gave 'er. She used her forearms, her elbows and all of her weight to work out whatever the hell was going on in my shoulders and back. I have never been in so much weirdly therapeutic pain. I had no choice but to breathe through it and offer it up to Jesus. And Jesus said "Yeeeeaaaaah...I'm good, thanks. You hang on to that."

Worked over, lotioned up and exhausted, Katr and I staggered out of the treatment room to the recovery gazebo, where we drank some juice that tasted way too good to be made of actual fruit. And then, we tipped. A LOT.

Katr was very appreciative of my participation in the Humanity Ceremony for Two and as you know, I live to please her.  So you'd think I'd be off the hook for spa fun for at least a year or two.

But then again, a certain Katr got a gift certificate for this place at Solstice. And she keeps whispering things like "Steam cave!" and "Glacial waterfall!" in my ear when she thinks I'm sleeping. I think we all know where this is going. It's going to be Last of the Mohicans alllll over again.

 

Creampuff Gets the Shift

My former roommate, Jesk, had a friend in law school who we'll call Joba. Joba was a perfectly nice fellow - very smart and also, tall. It was obvious to everyone, including Jesk, that Joba had a sizeable crush on her. And while she enjoyed his company as a friend, she was not in any way romantically interested in him. 

Unfortunately, Joba, for whatever reason, felt unable to declare his love outright - and therefore, Jesk was unable to let him down gently. Instead, Joba would just hang around near Jesk, acting like her boyfriend and cockblocking her endlessly at parties and the like.

This went on for YEARS and frustrated Jesk to no end. FINALLY, Joba asked her to go to a movie (but still in ambiguous, non-romantic terms). Jesk fell on this opportunity like a starving dog and said she'd love to go to the movie AS FRIENDS, RIGHT? BECAUSE I LIKE YOU HAS A FRIEND, ONLY A FRIEND.

Joba responded "Of course only as friends, don't flatter yourself" [I paraphrase] and basically acted like she had suggested he was asking her to shit in his mouth.

While his complete denial of his crush on Jesk was still annoying to her (and me, because I had to hear about it endlessly), he did back off after that, which was nice. Don't feel badly for him - his mad dating skillz clearly improved after this incident. I see from stalking him just now on Facebook that he just married a really good looking young lady. Kudos, Joba. Kudos.

Anyway, I was thinking about this story of failing to declare intentions and the anger that results the other day when Emmy Lou and I were enjoying a walk on a rare sunny day in our neighbourhood.

As we drew near the JJ Bean, I noticed a fellow across from the coffee shop looking shifty. Kind of noodling around like he was talking to himself, nothing particularly weird. But because Emmy likes to stop and sniff regardless of my proximity to shifty people, I decided to cross the street so as to not get involved with whatever was happening.

A few minutes later, we reached a park and lo and behold, Shifty Guy was there, walking up to towards us on the path! "Ah well", I thought, "It's a lovely day and shifty guys enjoy the outdoors too." We walked a little farther and then headed down a different path. A few seconds later, I noticed that SG had changed his trajectory and was now headed over to our side of the park.

Huh.

Since my passive aggressive avoidance techniques hadn't worked, I decided to just wait for SG to come over and make his move. He did come over...and then, standing about five feet away from us, he pretended like he was looking for something behind a park bench.

"Okay," I thought, "fine. You had your chance to...whatever your plan was. Now screw off."

Emmy and I slowly made our way back across the park and SG stayed on his bench. Then, he moved to a bench closer to us. And then, he moved to an even closer bench. And then, as we headed back into the neighbourhood, I saw SG get up off his bench and start to follow us.

By this time, I was annoyed and also, a little creeped out. What the hell was going on here? 

We came around the corner onto Commercial again and I made Emmy Lou's day by allowing her to sniff a garbage can while I stood there, facing the corner SG would be rounding shortly. He did come around the corner and we made eye contact. I just stood there and stared at him. Emmy tried to eat a gum wrapper and choked a little. He saw me, blinked away and then, as he walked by me, he actually TURNED HIS HEAD all the way to the other side of the sidewalk, like he was pretending I wasn't there staring at him.

Then Emmy and I started following him.

SG kept walking to the end of the block and then went around the corner across from the JJ Bean, where I'd first seen him. 

Then, because I was nervous SG would follow us home, I took a fairly circuitous route back to the homestead, stopping frequently to make sure no one was following us.

Emmy didn't know what she'd done to merit so many random sniff stops, but she took full advantage of it.

It's been a few days and I'm still annoyed by a) how menaced I felt in broad daylight in my own neighbourhood and b) how because SG, like Joba, didn't declare his intentions, I didn't get the opportunity to end things on my terms.

Also, I still can't decide what his motivation was. Did SG want to:

• Talk to me about Jesus
• Ask me for money
• Suggest we get it on
• Check to see if I was someone he'd previously gotten it on with (hint: no)
• Take money from me without my consent
• Teach me a lesson about avoiding shifty guys by following me around
• Practice his suspect tailing techniques for the police academy (Grade: F)
• Pet my dog
• Ask me for money for Jesus 

 I'd say "History will decide" but the reality is that I'll probably just punch this guy in the nads if I see him again.

Seeking Simone Ep 2.5: Leslie is live!

For those of you whom I did not hassle endlessly yesterday, we hit an exciting Simone milestone when we held the last episode of Season 2 hostage until we got to 1000 Facebook fans.

I was worried that this would blow up in my face, but people were super nice and now we have 1023 fans and the episode is up! Woooo! It is called "Leslie".

This episode was especially fun to film because a few of my favourite Toronto gals - Jeba, Berin, Lex, Sura - showed up to be the extras at the restaurant during Simone's date. Thanks for keeping the rambunctiousness to a minimum, ladies - you are all class!!!

Seeking Simone Ep 2.3: Heat of Fashion! It is steamy.

The latest episode of my lesbian web comedy Seeking Simone is up! This one has a little bit of everything - crime, drama, passion, Audrey's bodacious rack and a cameo by the Funchico laptop bag that Katr designed. HOTNESS.

They usually don't let me hang around when they're filming make-out scenes because I'm a 12 year old and do not bring the appropriate gravitas to the situation, due to my incessant giggling. So the steaminess of the hot girl-on-girl action in this episode was a complete and delightful surprise to me. Basically, I'm just writing comedy soft core porn now. Yeah, you're welcome.

Creampuff and the Black and White Menace

I used to take our dog on slow, meandering strolls at night. Emmy Lou really comes alive when the sun goes down - the nose is working, the eyes aren't and she transforms into this stalking beast, intent on hunting down her prey. Fortunately, her prey is fleeter of foot and brain than Emmy Lou - often I will see her prey darting away several minutes before Emmy even catches the scent of the prey. Then she spends 20 minutes frantically sniffing every millimeter of grass the prey once stood on.  Our evening walks were full of whimsy and fun. Until...the skunk.

My neighbourhood is a curious mix of low rises, single family homes, big infill developments like ours and abandoned properties (including a huge, crumbling old house next door). We also live about a block from a ravine. Wildlife looking to make the leap to urban living would not find it difficult to move from the ravine to any of the available badger-squats on our street. And it would seem that the skunk has zeroed in on some prime real estate.

The first time I saw the skunk was in the alley at dusk. We locked eyes while Emmy was taking a whiz. The skunk started galloping towards me. I yanked Emmy away from the alley and we continued on our way. I was a little shaken but not too concerned.

"Huh," I thought, "I guess we shouldn't go in the alley at night."

About 10 minutes later, Emmy smelled the skunk and totally lost her mind, but by then the skunk was long gone.

The second time I saw the skunk was in different part of the alley, at dawn. We locked eyes while Emmy was nuzzling an empty tuna can. The skunk started galloping towards me. I dragged Emmy away from the tuna can and across the street. The skunk started making love to the tuna can. I hustled Emmy back to our house. I was a little disturbed because while it was early in the day, the sun was shining brightly.

"Huh," I thought, "That skunk is bold. I guess we shouldn't go near the alley at dawn."

We went a few days without seeing the skunk and I began to feel safe again. Clearly, the skunk was sticking to the rich, dumpster-filled environs of the alley and so long as we didn't invade its territory, we'd be fine.

The third time we saw the skunk was about 8 feet away from our front gate. Not in the alley. Not hiding in the bushes. Not skulking around the cedars. It was coming around the corner, walking like it owned the sidewalk, fully lit by the street lights. Emmy Lou lost her shit. The skunk  started galloping towards us. It was like a horror movie.

I manhandled Emmy through the front gate and slammed it behind us, fully aware that the skunk could easily come in under the gate. I wrestled the dog to the front door, then dropped my keys trying to open it. I finally managed to get us inside to safety, dragging a whiny, cheated dog behind me. She didn't speak to me for day. 

I started to talk to everyone about the skunk. My parents. My neighbours. The City of Vancouver. Anyone I saw with a dog. Everyone on Facebook.

I know that there are a lot of skunks in a lot of places and that my particular skunk is no different than any other urban skunk out there, except that he IS different because this skunk is living  in the abandoned house next door and is SPECIFICALLY OUT TO GET ME.

Everyone told me that I needed to relax, that the skunk was probably more scared of me than I was of it, that I should just start carrying around a giant SuperSoaker water gun (ha ha, very funny, Mom) and everything would be fine. 

Let me just clarify something here. I am not afraid of skunks. I saw many a skunk in Toronto when I used to take my 5:00 a.m. walks to the gym. But having a dog who would like to get her mouth on a skunk rachets up the peril for me. I KNOW THAT WE WILL NOT DIE IF WE GET SPRAYED. But it would be an enormous, stenchy hassle that I'm not interested in dealing with. 

The skunk's presence - and continued menace, including last week when it blocked our return to our own house, hissing and raising its tail at us while I pulled a windmilling Emmy Lou into the middle of the road to avoid attack - has severely curtailed our evening walk activities.

Now, when it starts to get dark, I turn the porch lights on. And when it's time for Emmy's last whiz of the day, we do not dawdle. I poke my head out of the gate to check for the black and white, then take the dog onto the boulevard, tersely ordering her to make while jumping at every scratching, rustling noise I hear. It's really great. 

Obviously, in the grand scheme of things, the skunk issue is in no way important - I know this. And I'm TRYING to be cool about it, I really am, except that I'm totally not cool about it. But I can't really do anything about it, unless I'm willing to illegally place a skunk trap full of Kentucky Fried Chicken on the private property next door and then pay someone to illegally go on to said private property to retrieve the skunk. 

I'm thinking about it, though. I'll keep you posted. Please leave your skunk stories in the comments.

 

Creampuff in the Big Apple

I was pretty thrilled last fall when my childhood friend Chezza phoned me up to tell me that her charming swain Brha had proposed! Those two are so darn cute - they met while volunteering together at the Housing Works Used Book Cafe, so you know they're awesome already. Yay love!

And then, a few months later, I was SUPER thrilled when they actually invited me to attend their nuptials July 9th in the fair burrough of Brooklyn! Yay, traveling to witness love!

Since I traveled all the way to Belfast for my friend Jech's wedding, going to NY for Chezza and Brha's wedding seemed like a breeze. Plus, I already knew where to go to the bathroom in NY and how to handle being hit on by Latin Americans.

I really only had one day for New York frolic and, since I was staying near Times Square and the weather was glorious, I decided to spend the morning as a loser tourist on a double decker bus tour:

and the afternoon feeling SUPER COOL because my friend Cano lives in NY and he knows where there are restaurants that do not have "Times Square" as part of their name. We went to Westville Chelsea for lunch and I had a Cobb salad that changed my life. Seriously...and there's no innuendo-free way to say this...I didn't want to stop putting it in my mouth. Thanks, Cam.

My beloved Katr had a prior engagement and couldn't make it to NY to repeat our butter filled tasting menu adventure, so I was dateless for the wedding itself. But, ever the gracious hostess, Chezza unwittingly provided me with my "plus one" for her nuptials in the handy "out of town visitor welcome kit" that was waiting for me at my hotel.

In the kit was this:

 

What do you do when there's a mini knit-your-own-ninja in your welcome kit? Well...you knit him.

And then, you take him on a double decker bus tour with an hilarious guide named Marian: 

 

And then you take him to the wedding as your date.

In between the ceremony and the reception, the bride and groom treated guests to a double decker bus tour of Brooklyn, complete with water and delicious popcorn! And, of course, the ninja.

The reception space was fantastic - lots of space to mill around and visit and a beautiful view of the river. And, of course, there was that ninja.

The wedding was really lovely - everyone was so happy to be there and to celebrate the newlyweds. It was great to drink mojitos and catch up with high school friends and other folks I haven't seen since we were all stressed out twenty-somethings in university. Plus, cake!

Congratulations, Chezza and Brha!! It's always pretty sweet when you see a couple surrounded by love. You are wonderful, warm, generous people and Ninja and I were honoured to have been included on your big day.

Over the course of my many bus tours and the wedding, I took several photos of architectural details and wedding fun and ninja interruptions and they are all here in this handy slideshow. Enjoy...IF YOU DARE. Thanks to Katr for giving me the purple camera that made it all possible!!

Seeking Simone Episode 2.2 - Gore and Girl on Girl Action

For those of you whom I have not already hassled with this via Facebook and Twitter, the second episode of Seeking Simone's second season went live today. It's called Tippi Hedren's Slutty Daughter, as an homage to the actress who played the intrepid heroine of The Birds. Huzzah! Enjoy! Take off your pants! And if you enjoy, please pass it on!

Creampuff Begins the Journey of Yoga

A long time ago, I had very good workout habits. I swam, I lifted weights, I elliptercized. Lately, my workout habits include dragging our 40lb dog around the neighbourhood once a day (mild cardio, strength-training) and occasionally doing a Billy Blanks Tae Bo video. And by "doing", I mean "marvelling at how sweaty the people on the video are getting while I sit on the couch and eat ice cream" (biceps). 

Katr and I felt like it was time to step it up, but our attempts at self-directed exercise have been poor in the past (see above re: Billy Blanks) and we decided that we needed a person trainer type to actually come to our house to gently nudge us into shape. Because otherwise, we totally wouldn't go.

I also decided our personal trainer would be named Travis.

Not sure where to start, I asked our hilarious friend Elisa, who runs Vancouver studio Kerrisdale Yoga, if she knew any personal trainers named Travis. She did - but she suggested that we should do yoga instead!

I'm not going to lie to you, guys. I was hesitant. Partly because yoga is slow (which I hate) and hard (which I also hate) but also, I know that yoga is taken very seriously by purveyors of yoga and when *I* think about practising yoga, I mainly think about this:

But Katr thought yoga sounded keen and none of Elisa's other contacts were actually named Travis, so she hooked us up with ... Jane. And thus our journey of yoga began.

I knew Jane was the right teacher for us when she did NOT end her "nice to meet you" email with "Namaste". She also didn't seem phased when I told her that we were enthusiastic students but that working with us would be like "teaching yoga to fat rocks". She just brought a lot of foam blocks. 

I was prepared for the slowness and hardness of yoga - but the one thing I was unprepared for was the amount of touching involved. I don't usually enjoy people touching me - but Jane gets right in there, adjusting here, gently pushing there, and occasionally just climbing on our backs in the hopes that her meagre 88lbs will help us actually get down in that dog. If our living room was the National Geographic channel, every Monday and Thursday evening there would be an hour-long show about a tiny monkey climbing all over some hippos.

We love her so much. She is awesome. So awesome that I won't reveal her last name because she's OUR yoga teacher, OURS and you can't have her!

We've only had about five lessons and so far, we're up to The "Smell Your Pits" pose - but I'm sure it's only a matter of time before she has us doing this:

I need to point out that this isn't some random awesome photo of some babe doing yoga. I ACTUALLY KNOW THIS PERSON - it's the lovely Michelle Girouard and I stole this photo off Michelle Girouard's website (or maybe her Facebook, I'm too tired from Foot Penis Pose to go and check right now).

 

Creampuff Sends an Angry Note

So I went over to Savage Love today to catch up on my perv reading and I saw an ad that sucked.

The ad was so sucktastic and generally offensive to me and I realize that by posting it here, I'm just giving them more free advertising but if you're like me, you're too lazy to click through to where I saw the ad in the first place, so here it is:

So I saw that and I thought "Oh look, some kind of dating service for shallow douchebags! And it's being advertised using the keen stereotype of fat women lying in their online personal ads in order to entrap helpless young Adonises!"

Because shallow douchebags intrigue me, I clicked through to Tigits.com to see what it was all about. It turns out that Tigits is a service that allows you to have a second, fully functional phone number - one that you can give out to first dates or business contacts, whoever - so that you can keep your "real" number private if you need to.

Great idea, right? Good for keeping your real contact info safe, good for avoiding crazy stalkers - probably something that women would enjoy.

So why does their advertising make the folks at Tigits sound like a bunch of shit slices? 

I had to know. So I send them this note.

Dear Tigits,

I love the idea of Tigits and think that it would be a fantastic service for my friends who are on and off the online dating. But after seeing your really offensive banner ad on NOWToronto.com, I wouldn't recommend Tigits to anyone.

 I get the idea of being able to answer calls from people you're interested in and avoid calls from people you're not keen on - but having your ad be a joke about avoiding an angry, lying fat woman is just kind of tired and also, ass-tastic. 

I guess if your target audience is shallow male douchebags, then that's a total win. But on your website, it seems like the product is also meant to appeal to women...some of whom might not be 36-24-36.

Anyway...just thought I'd offer a little "possible customer" feedback. Thanks!

best,

Roro

In all fairness, when Katr went to track down a version of this ad so that I could angrily embed it, she also found a version that's offensive to gentlemen. Equal opportunity douchebaggery! So, you know, kudos to Tigits.

I don't know if I'll get any response from Tigits - the only way to contact them was through their "Support" form - but after a disappointing federal election on Monday night, where I felt impotent and frustrated, it was somewhat satisfying to send an angry note to some lazy marketers. Don't judge - we all seek solace where we can.

More flogging my lesbo web series - Seeking Simone Season 2 Starts Today!

After much drama and pathos, I'm thrilled to announce that Seeking Simone Season 2 FINALLY kicked off today! Woooo! Take your pants off!

In this first episode, Simone discovers that her character on CSIS:ForensicSWAT is getting shot in an upcoming episode...so she's keen to connect with a new writer on the show.

This episode features our usual hilarious cast of Renée Olbert (Simone), Anna Chatterton (her nosey best friend Audrey) and David Bronfman (her inappropriate co-star Stone) as well as an hilarious guest turn by the talented and delightful Evalyn Parry.

Special to the lesbians: fans of The L Word would do well to tune in :)

If you enjoy, please pass it on! Also, don't give me any guff this time about the pre-roll ads on Blip. The ads mean that after 100,000 views, I can afford to buy the cast and crew one beer each. The cast and crew need their beer, people! That's what the whole show is built on.