Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff Blurt

Alright. I give up. I was totally waiting to blog again until I had downloaded the pictures of my eventual birthday cake from my camera onto the 12 year old PC I'm still using because my laptop's still in the shop. But I've tried and 12 year old PC has declined to receive my photos, so here I am, on a Sunday evening, verging on hysteria, full of Cadbury Caramilk mini-eggs, freaking out about a series of VERY FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS and now totally upset that I can't show you how my ice cream cake from Dairy Queen had "Happy Birthday, Dingus" on it.

Scene.

Creampuff Pick-Up Lines

I have many nicknames for the dog - Gym Socks, Dingus, Space Cadet, Clicky McClickington, Douchetastic - but the one I usually use in public is "Cutie". "Cutie" is a good nickname when you have a dog who is occasionally a dingus, because when people walk by and see you wrestling your dog out of a bush while calling her "cutie", they assume that, while your dog might be a dingus, you still love the dog and they don't need to call the S.P.C.A.

So yesterday, Emmy Lou and I were waiting at the intersection behind a young lady. She was, strangely enough, all in white - white cropped quilted jacket with white fur trimmed hood. White jeans. White boots. It was a muddy day and I was quite impressed by the pristine condition of her ensemble.

The light changed and, as usual, I had to yank my fossicking dog away from the lightpost to get her to cross the street. In doing so, I leaned forward and said into the back of the girl's head, "Okay! Let's go, cutie!"

The girl whipped around and gave me a look that would have disintegrated my balls. I realized that she hadn't seen the dog. She thought I was talking to her.

Then I LAUGHED IN HER FACE.

Naturally, I couldn't stop laughing and instead of apologizing, I merely wheezed, choked and sputtered while White Pants speedwalked away from me. I couldn't see her face, but her ass sure looked angry.

Anyway - to the young lady who thought I was hitting on you at the intersection - I'm sorry. I was talking to my dog. Also, get over yourself.

Speaking of romance, my laptop bag loving better half Katr is having a Valentine's Day giveaway on Funchico! She's giving away a luscious red Veronica London Monogram Laptop Tote.

That's right, bitches - a bag with your initials!! To enter, all you have to do is leave a comment on Funchico by Feb 4th, with your favourite romantic couple from history or literature or film or slash fiction or your own sick imagination. I'm not allowed to enter. Katr says for ethical reasons, but I suspect she's afraid I'll lower the tone, so I'm leaving it up to you guys to lower the tone for me. I know I can count on you.

Now, I know it's not a laptop bag full of dildos - although if you're in the market for something like that, Come Together gift baskets can set you up (right, Pugs?). But a red laptop bag can still be a very romantic gift ... particularly for your laptop. Or for me, if it contains a laptop-sized box of chocolates and some yarn.

UPDATE: I wanted to mention Come Together gift baskets because they're an awesome idea (not just for Valentine's), they're made by and for lesbians and the lesbians who make them are lovely! But then I had to update just now when I discovered that Sugarbutch is having a Come Together gift basket giveaway. That's right - enter BOTH giveaways and that laptop bag full of dildos fantasy could actually come true. Make it happen!

Creampuff Still a Nerd

I decided to go to the GVPTA Making a Scene conference in Vancouver because I was feeling out of the theatre loop and thought this would be a great way to figure out what was hip and happening in the town where I apparently live.

I kind of forgot how being out of the loop generally also means that you don't know anyone IN the loop - otherwise you might also be in the loop. I had an awesome moment when I got my registration folder and was looking through the names of the other conference participants. My eyes slid over unfamiliar name after unfamiliar name until I hit "Daniel MacIvor". I got all excited! I know Daniel MacIvor!!

That's when I realized I know OF super-talented, multi-award winning Canadian playwright, performer and filmmaker Daniel MacIvor. I don't actually KNOW him. For those of you who are not Canadian theatre nerds, it would be like going to a conference in a new town and realizing the only attendee you knew was Brad Pitt.

Hahahaaaa! Ah good times.

While I never did hook up with my good imaginary friend Daniel MacIvor, I did manage to meet plenty of other nice people and would venture to deem the weekend a success, despite my shy nerdishness. Although I do think I'll suggest to the GVPTA that they have a shy nerd workshop. Shy Nerds - Get Over It and Mingle could be the name. I'll keep you guys posted.

Creampuff Offers Some Financial Advice

NB: This post is about credit cards and how they can screw you. It offers some practical tips. You might not care and I'm okay with that.

Like a lot of people, I could stand to play closer attention to my finances. But I've been quite smug and gleeful about the fact that, since our big gay wedding last year, I've been (slowly but consistently) paying down debt instead of going into more.

Paying a lot of interest chaps my ass, so most of my debt is on my line of credit. But recently Katr and I were looking to move some debt around and that's when I got one of those fancy balance transfer options in the mail from my trusty MBNA York University MasterCard. The interest rate gave me a tingle. I was intrigued.

I was also leery about taking advantage of this extremely good offer. I knew there must be some catch. I really wanted to make a measured decision so that I wouldn't end up getting screwed, so I made sure to read all the fine print. After much careful deliberation, I decided to go for some hot balance transfer action.

So here are the two things to watch out for:

1. The balance transfer fee.

Mine was 1% of the total. It was a big total, so the balance transfer fee ended up being more than the monthly interest I would have paid if I'd left the money where it was. Also, I still had to pay the interest. So already, in the first month, I'm actually $50 poorer than I would have been.

Like I said, I did read the fine print before going ahead. I don't know if I missed this information, or if I saw it and didn't do the math properly. Regardless - my learning is now yours. Rejoice!

2. Credit insurance.

Did you fall for that credit insurance scam years ago like and then forget because you're a dingus? Well, I did. Turns out my credit insurance is $.99 per every $100. I have been paying this for YEARS. YEARS, people. What's wrong with me?

Unfortunately, I didn't notice my giant credit insurance charge when I got my first month's bill, because I'd ended up having to use my card for my business trip and I thought it was a hotel charge. So it wasn't until this month that I saw the amount and went "Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait a minute - what's this action here?"

It turns out that my credit insurance costs as much the monthly interest I would have paid if I'd left the money where it was. Also, I still had to pay the interest. Also, I didn't notice this charge last month, so I paid it, which now, two months in, makes me almost $350 poorer than I would have been had I not done a balance transfer at all.

Naturally, I've since opted out of the insurance. It was relatively painless.

Surprisingly, I'll still come out on top on this deal - it's just that good. But I would have been much farther ahead and also felt less fucked around had I been aware of items 1 and 2.

Obviously I need to take responsibility for not paying enough attention to these things. I can't find the original balance transfer offer, to verify that they mentioned the transfer fee - it certainly wasn't mentioned anywhere prominent. And I dimly remember signing up for credit insurance years ago, before I was over my fear of telemarketers - but in my defence, I signed up when my credit limit was so low that it would have cost me pennies. Not anymore.

So anyway, my point is that balance transferring CAN be awesome - just make sure you're aware of the extra fees.

As for the card itself...I don't need to bitch about the MBNA York University MasterCard - I'm sure that many other credit cards suck just as bad. But I'm tired of feeling like I'm being screwed AND not getting any benefit out of it. At least when other cards screw you, you're also getting Aeroplan miles or gas incentives or donating money to environmental causes. As far as I can tell, my MasterCard isn't even giving back to my old alma mater, so what's the point? Come April, when my sexy interest rate leaves me for a richer debt, the card and the scissors and I may need to have a talk.

Creampuff Delusions

I enjoy living in a fantasy world and endeavour to do so whenever possible. But I've been trying to be more realistic about things of late, in an attempt to achieve some kind of health/work/life balance.

In examining some of my more deeply held beliefs, particularly around food, I've noticed ... that I'm totally fucking delusional.

For instance:

I'll eat a bag of M&M's - not the little single serve bag, I'm talking the movie-sized bag here - without a second thought. But I'm always really careful about how many carrots I eat, because carrots are full of sugar. Same with bananas.

I enjoy the occasional soda pop and not always the diet pop - the real stuff, with the delicious high fructose corn syrup. But I'll rarely have more than half a cup of juice, any juice, because juice is full of calories.

For some reason, I consider pumpkin to be the ultimate health food. So anything with pumpkin in it is good for me. This includes pumpkin lattes, pumpkin scones, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake and the Pumpkin Pie Blizzard from Dairy Queen.

Peanut M&Ms are better than regular M&Ms. Because peanuts pack a lot of protein.

Potato chips have too much sodium, so I make sure to stay away from those. But Nacho Cheese Doritos are made from CORN. So they're okay.

When I make an omelette (one of two things I actually know how to make), I generally use egg whites, so as to avoid the yolk's cholesterol. But did you know that if egg yolks are part of a fried egg SANDWICH, then they have no cholesterol? It's true! It's like the bread neutralizes the yolk. Look it up.

I could go on, but it's making me hungry. But tell me this - am I alone in these irrational and arbitrary dietary delusions (no doubt brought on by my years of ill-advised low-carb dieting)? If not, please feel free to share your delusions below. And if so - lie to me. It's dangerous to have too many delusions shattered at once and since I discovered that Kozy Shack Rice Pudding does not, in fact, deliver the same health benefits as kale, I'm really on the edge.

Creampuff Experiences First World Problem

It's a good thing most of you were up already - otherwise my howls of agony may have awoken you from your sweet, gentle slumber. Because at 6:12 a.m. on this frigid dark morning, I discovered that our Black & Decker Versa Brew coffee machine, which I prepped last night, was no longer working.

I wish I had a good story to tell you about the coffee machine. I wish I could tell you that it went down fighting - that I plugged it in and heard a roar, that glass shattered, sparks came out of its ass and that a harsh voice filled the kitchen saying "I reclaim this machine for my people!"

The reality is that I plugged it in and pressed the on/off switch only to find that the button was...flaccid and unresponsive. I proceeded to do what any considerate lover would. I plugged it into a bunch of different sockets. I fiddled and jiggled and coaxed and encouraged. I used a variety of exciting instruments to perk it up, to get it clicking again...to put the snap back in its turtle. And then when my efforts were met with naught, I gave up and loudly berated it for its weakness.

I'm ashamed to say that I called it a cheap piece of shit. Which is true, but still...a low blow. Particularly since I bought it specifically for its cheapness nearly two years ago and until this morning it worked just fine.

We've rummaged through our obligatory lesbian tea cupboard and unearthed some caffeinated tea - chai for Katr, China Black for me. And while the sudden and unexplained demise of the Versa Brew was extremely distressing in the short term, I suppose that when my wrath subsides, I will appreciate the opportunity to get a better, more versatile coffee machine. You know, "for the office".

In the meantime, the only soothing balm I had was this post on BLIOTD, which contains not only cute pictures of an adorable child wearing a hat I knit, but praise for the hat itself, which appears to have grown with the baby. Thanks to BL's Male Handler for brightening a very dark Monday.

Creampuff's Olympic Wrap-Up

The flame is out. 

"The flame is out," I sighed plaintively to Katr as the Olympic blaze was extinguished in Beijing.

"The flamer's out?" she said, peering out towards the balcony of the known homosexual across the street. "In this weather?"

Now that the Games are over, I'm gearing up to go through my usual five stages of Olympic grief.

Denial: Sure the GAMES are over, but the montages set to inspiring music live on. Surely they'll be playing those for several more hours, right? So what if there's major league baseball on right now? The montages are coming. I WILL NOT LEAVE THIS COUCH, WOMAN!

Anger: GodDAMN why didn't my parents put me in sports when I was a kid?? I could have been an Olympian myself! I could have been a contender! (This, if you know my parents, couldn't be more unfair. Those people had me signed up for every sport there was. Swimming, soccer, dance, gymnastics, skiing, figure skating, basketball, track & field - they paid for lessons, went to recitals, coached my sports teams, sent me to camps. Few stones in the world of sport were left unturned by them. The truth is that I was moderately good at everything and could possibly have excelled at one of these disciplines had the thrill of victory not been eclipsed by my total devotion to inertia and pie.)

Bargaining: If I walk the dog extra hard today, Ian Hanomansing will come over later with his pictures from Beijing and a cheesecake.

Depression: Not only am I getting too old to become an Olympian, but I suspect I'm also too old now to play one on TV.

Acceptance Snacking: Cheetos and Southern Comfort will fill this void within me.

To keep the glory going just a little bit longer, I thought I'd award some Olympic accolades of my own.

Favourite Olympic Blog Post: Has to go to Syd, for her in-depth analysis of women in sport.

Best Horse Name in Equestrian Competition: Jumpy Des Fontaines (ridden by Zhenqiang Li of China)

Best Angry Athlete Quote: Sherraine Schalm, fencer and medal hopeful, after a soul-crushing defeat at the hands of a rival early in the competition, told a reporter "It's like I imagine being a man. It's like being kicked in the nuts repeatedly." I hear you, Sherraine.

Gayest Athlete in Gayonia: Australia's totally adorable gold medallist 10 metre platform diver Matthew Mitchum. I'd never heard of him but seconds after tuning into the diving final, I turned to Katr and said "Perhaps he should be wearing a rainbow Speedo". It was so awesome to see him win. He was apparently the only openly gay male athlete at the Games. Way to keep the flame burning bright, brother!

Cutest High Jumping Librarian: Tia Hellebaut of Belgium. We have so much in common, Tia and I. We both wear glasses - we're both sponsored by Pizza Hut - we both scored a personal best in the high jump this year. Hers was 2.05 metres. Mine was 1.5 feet - just over the height of our couch.

Speaking of sponsors, before I sign off, I'd like to thank mine:

Petro-Canada: Helping this armchair athlete since 2006.

Vitamin Water: I believe it was your Dragonfruit flavoured water that provided the key hydration I needed to help me blast through the entire women's mountain bike competition in one sitting.

Small Potato Urban Delivery (SPUD): Without you guys bringing a box of goodness to our door every week, we might not have eaten a single fruit or vegetable throughout these Games (Katr tells me that the mushrooms on pizza "do not count").

Pizza Hut: Without whom I would never have successfully completed the biathlon, consisting of the following two events: 24 Hour Bung-Up and Shit-a-Discus.

Thanks to all of you who made my armchair Olympics so memorable. Here's hoping that next time around, I'll have improved in my sport and graduated from armchair Olympian to balcony Olympian. I hear they're holding the Opening Ceremonies in 2010 across the street from here and I don't want to miss a thing.

Creampuff Under the Big Top

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

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

Here is what I've come up with:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then I will pass the hat.

Creampuff Knows She's the One

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

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

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

"Wanna start drinking?"

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

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

Staying Alive - Far from Over
Uploaded by nightwind23

Creampuff Receives May Flowers to Counter April Showers

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

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

has found its way to this extremely innocent baby:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish you all a most fabulous week!