Creampuff Revolution

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.

Creampuff Goes to Cowtown

As some of you may or may not recall, one of my New Year's Resolutions for the last two years has been to "finish my stupid play that's set in the Yukon."

I am ashamed to say that I've been "working on" this tiny 30-page oeuvre since...no no. I'm too embarrassed to admit how long it has been. Suffice to say that it has been languishing in my computer's memory for several years and every couple of years, I would call up the 15 pages I had already written and remember that I really liked the play and then I would glance around, hoping to find some way to motivate myself to finish it.

Here's the thing. I am an Olympic-level procrastinator. I keep meaning to make myself a symbolic gold medal for procrastination but I haven't gotten around to it. It's a terrible cliche but I do work best under pressure - without a compelling reason, I tend not to finish anything, preferring instead to let it exist in my mind as this perfect, blemish-free project that I will one day complete.

Thus, there are only two reasons that I will ever finish a creative project:

1. I am due to perform it at a certain place on a certain date and if it isn't done by then, I will look the fool.

2. I am applying for a grant/workshop/writer's group and have to prove I don't just have "ideas".

In the case of this particular project, a one-act comedy called Camp Victoria, set in 1898 during the Gold Rush, I had applied unsuccessfully for a couple of different things over the years - a Fringe fest here, a writer's group there - but I had a good feeling that this would be the year it would get done. So I sent off a brazen cover letter and my 19 pages to Lunchbox Theatre in Calgary and lo and behold, they accepted me! HA ha! Oh shit, wait...now I have to write the rest of it.

Every year, Lunchbox Theatre has a festival of new play development called the Suncor Energy Stage One Festival, where they set you (the playwright) up with fantastic actors and a lovely dramaturge/director for five days and at the end of the five days, there's a public reading of your play. You work with the director/dramaturge/actors for a few hours every day and then spend the rest of the day frantically writing in order to have new and improved stuff to work on the next day. Basically, it's the biggest fire anyone has ever lit under my ass.

Fortunately for me, I was staying with my aunt Suki and her partner Jemi (Star Trek names) in Calgary and never has there been a more welcoming environment for the writing. It was like I was a guest in a Jane Austen novel.

I was treated to incredible gourmet, made-from-scratch meals (lunch AND dinner daily) and was not allowed to walk anywhere (which worked out, because as it turns out, Calgary is quite large). There was scotch and poppycock in my workroom (I availed myself of both) - there were gluten-free brownies in the kitchen - a generous supply of my favourite tea and wine was laid in and the company was extremely delightful.

I was also treated to a sumptuous repast at my aunt Pegi's house one night, where the salmon is planked and the home-made lattes are highly inspirational. We all agreed that was so lovely to visit with family and not be at a funeral. Score!

And my childhood friend Chma had me over so that I could finally meet the fruit of her loins, both of whom were incredibly cute. A scene from our dinner:

Chma's eldest child: You laugh a lot.

Me: (feeling a little defensive) I think a lot of things are funny.

Chma's eldest child: (conspiratorially) Me too.

Basically, I was treated like a visiting dignitary the whole time I was in Cowtown. I would come into the workshop every day and brag about how spoiled I was. I'm sure it was super, super charming.

After five days and a lot of poppycock and only a few tears (the crying means it's working!) - Camp Victoria was in a whole new place. And thanks to awesome dramaturge Pam Halstead (also Lunchbox's artistic director, who let me in in the first place!), fantastic director Glenda Stirling, and wonderful actors extraordinaire Shawna Burnett, Lindsay Burns, Julie Orton, I FINALLY FINISHED THE PLAY. Woooo! 

Well, mostly. I, uh, still have some polishing to do before I send the final draft back to Pam. But the play was read aloud, in front of an audience and no one turned around at the end and said "That sucked a lot of wang." 

Ideally, I would have blogged about this while I was actually there instead of three weeks later but I was busy actually writing the play. 

Anyhoo - that was my Calgary adventure. Next up - my trip to New York for Chezza's wedding last weekend! There will be photos. Get ready.

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.

Calling All Lesbian Sleuths! Help Me Solve This Sexy Mystery!

So the awesome news is that my short play Anne and Diana Were TOTALLY DOING IT is being published this fall in the Loud n' Queer 20th Anniversary anthology! Wooo! I am SO honoured to be included, you have no idea. 

As those of you who've been privileged to witness a live performance of this oeuvre may remember, there is a slide show! And one of the images I use in the slideshow is below.

I have two questions:

1. How sexy is this painting? Doesn't it totally make you think of Anne and Diana and how they were totally doing it?

 2. Where is this from? 

I honestly have NO IDEA where I found this image - it was years ago - and I don't even have the original image file anymore - I got this off the PowerPoint slide. I'm FAIRLY certain I stole it off some other lesbian's blog.

It turns out that when you google "sexy lesbian painting", this is not the first thing that comes up.

The reason I ask is that Darrin, the fabulous editor of the anthology asked me if this image was public domain - if not, of course, we can't include it in the book with my piece. I LOVE it and would love to include it but my days of doing things that are illegal are...well, several weeks behind me.

So please - let me know if you know what the hell this is!! And if you don't, please pass it on to your friends and ask them! The worst thing that happens is that more people see that sexy redhead's nip. And how can that be wrong?

UPDATE: Thank you so much to everyone who's been sifting through Victorian porn to help me find out where this painting is from! As you can see from the comments, we've had several exciting leads but so far, we still don't know who the artist is (and if I can rip off their work with a clear copyright conscience). If you know who painting this - or have ideas about where to look - please leave it in the comments!

Creampuff Gets Fingered

So a couple of our lightbulbs in the kitchen burned out weeks ago. Our ceilings are really high and I don’t like getting up on a dining room chair to change the lights, mainly because it’s difficult for Katr to both spot me on the chair AND hold the phone on which she has pre-dialled 9–1.

So when my family was here for Thanksgiving, we made my tall, lanky brother do it.

We thought we were pretty clever, until we realized that Jaro removing the burnt out bulbs was only half the battle – we still had to find replacement bulbs AND install them. Unnnngh. WHY IS LIFE SO HARD?

Since I ALWAYS buy the exact wrong type of lightbulb every time I have to replace one, I had the bright idea of bringing the burnt out bulbs with me so that I could put an end to my losing streak and not accidentally buy some kind of kitchen laser that only works when you play Floyd and turns the dog bionic.

So I’m in the lightbulb section of the Safeway and even though I have the bulb I’m trying to replace IN MY HAND, I still can’t figure out which one I’m suppose to get.

At first, I was excited by all of the energy efficient options but then I remembered apparently energy efficient lightbulbs are killing us and now I fear them. Foiled!

Also, the bulb I was trying to replace was a Philips and the Safeway only stocks GE bulbs. Foiled again!

Finally, after opening and closing several boxes, I put my lightbulb back in my purse and chose my bulb. Just then, the Safeway security guard came ambling down the aisle.

Safeway security guard: Hi there.

Me: Hello.

Safeway security guard: How are you doing today?

Me: I’m well, thank you. And yourself?

Safeway security guard: Pretty good. So listen. One of our employees said he just saw you put a lightbulb in your purse.

Pause.

Me: He’s not wrong.

Safeway security guard: I see. Let’s talk about that.

The Safeway security guard was pretty hilarious. We went through my purse together as I explained why it looked as if I might be purloining a bulb when, in fact, I was simply being a super genius. He told me that just that weekend he’d gone to Home Depot and picked up totally the wrong bulb for his kitchen and his wife was all upset. How we laughed!

As our security interaction came to a close, I asked him who’d fingered me so that I could make life very uncomfortable for that person. Safeway security guard said “Sorry, ma’am. I have to protect my source. But he was headed towards Bakery.”

I never found the guy. But it turns out that I did get the right light bulbs for the kitchen.

I have to say, I really appreciated the low-key, casual nature of this Safeway shakedown. If you’re going to get fingered for stealing light bulbs, this is the way to do it. So listen – if you plan to do anything questionable in a Vancouver area Safeway in the near future, definitely check out the one at Broadway & Commercial for a relaxed accusationatorial experience. Plus, there’s a Starbucks in there.

Creampuff Makes Little House on the Prairie Look Like a Pile of Puke

There’s food growing in our yard and I’m a little beside myself. How did it get there? How does it do that? And why are vegetables so dirty? Our organic food garden guru Seaton calls her photos “veggie porn”…and now I understand why. And now…so will you.

Danglers.

Actual cucumber from garden. NOT FROM THE STORE. WE GREW THIS.

You know what I didn’t know about cucumbers? They’re covered in little prickles. You basically have to give each one a handjob before you can eat it.

Bush pickle. That’s the name of this plant.

This…isn’t from our garden. I saw this out on a walk with the dog. But you can see the resemblance to things in our garden.

In more penis-innuendo-free news…little tomatoes!!

The shy mating of stealth peas. I didn’t see these guys for weeks and then suddenly there were pea pods everywhere. Like delicious ninjas!

Gypsy pepper. This plant has been working SO hard on this pepper. This is, in fact, the only pepper this plant has grown all summer. I almost don’t have the heart to pick the pepper. But if I don’t soon, then I know that fuckface Peter Piper will beat me to it.

And just when you think it couldn’t get any more domestic up in this bitch – BAM!

Banana Chocolate Chip Cake!

ALL OVER YOUR FACE!

Yeah, that’s right. I baked from scratch, during a heat wave. That’s hardcore. Speaking of hardcore, note the lesbian art in the background and the homegrown cucumber draped seductively over the nectarines. HOT.

Creampuffs Move In

We’re in!

Sweet Lavendar Lord, I hate moving.

The purging, the packing, the actual moving, the unpacking…basically, they all involve the four things I hate the most:

THINKING

PLANNING

BENDING

DOING

In an effort to help you all out with your upcoming moves – whatever those moves may be - here are my keen tips:

Con your friends into taking your crap delightful goods. After we went through our things and did a big book and DVD and laptop bag purge, we invited people over to help themselves to free books and laptop bags! While the turn-out was small, the impact was large and we managed to pass many many handsome laptop bags and stimulating books on to good homes. To those of you who came – thank you!! To those of you who couldn’t make it – you can now buy our remaining stuff at your local Value Village. Because when you have a lot of stuff to donate and only want to make one stop, you gotta go to the double V.

Get a meat puppet.  I don’t know what she promised him, but Katr got her brother Drtr to come help us pack, move and unpack. He came for six days. From Buffalo. And he was like a golden golden god. We seriously could not have done it without him.

My brother-in-law Drtr is a special kind of person. My brother Jaro and I have a great relationship – I love him like a brother – but if I asked him to come stay with us for six days and help us move, he would tell me to shove it up my ass until I could taste it.

Make sure you have enough boxes. If you run out of boxes, you will have to pack in things that are not boxes. Such as garbage bags or pillow cases. Or your own pockets.

Hire movers. Just…do it. Once your friends hurt their backs helping to move your shit, you will NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT.

Don’t hire our movers if you value your TV. Our movers put up with a lot and they did an awesome job, except for the part where we wanted them to pack our TV in its original box and they maintained that it would be fine if they just wrapped it up real good in a blanket and so we let them and you know what? Yeah, IT WAS NOT FINE.

Label your boxes. Our boxes were all totally labelled – from the previous move in 2006. And did we pack the same items back into those boxes this time? No. That’s how my brother-in-law found the riding crop. In the box marked “Children’s fiction”. In turn, the box marked “Bedroom closet” was full of cutlery. Kinky.

Move to a neighbourhood where Swiss Chalet delivers. Some of you made fun of me when I said that one of the most awesome things about this move was that we were finally within Swiss Chalet’s delivery zone. And to you I say: Suck it!! Nothing tastes quite so good after moving than that dirty dirty bird.

We are thrilled to be in our new place – especially now that the hot water is working (more on that later). I wasn’t sad to leave our old place, but I was sad to leave the unlimited dumpster and recycling access our former building provided. Tomorrow morning I have to get up at the crack of dawn’s ass to shake the raccoons off our teeny garbage bin and drag it into the alley for the garbage truck. I look forward to hearing all of your residential neighbourhood garbage minimizing tips!! Seriously…the bin is so tiny and those Swiss Chalet containers take up a lot of space.

Creampuff Anniversary Two – Electric Boogaloo

It’s our second wedding anniversary today! Wooooooooo!

That’s right – two years ago today, me, Katr and the world’s coolest wedding cake all got gay married in Toronto.

I’d mush out on you right here and wax on about how Katr completes me, but the great thing about having a blog is that if you posted your wedding vows somewhere else online, you can just link to them! Hurray love! I still mean every word I said that night, Katr.

Since the traditional first wedding anniversary gift is paper, I assumed that the traditional second anniversary gift was plastic but apparently it’s cotton.

My first thought was that I could present Katr with a pair of my own cotton underwear - (The Beav prefers natural fibres) - but I wasn’t sure how that would be different than any other day.

So instead, I got Katr a set of mascot pins from the 2008 Olympics in Beijing! Romance!

See, one of the awesome things about being gay married – besides the playful bickering in public and how love means never having to wear pants again - is that you get to support each others’ weird obsessions. For example, my blushing bride Katr is, at the moment, obsessed with Olympic pins. I tell you guys, Olympic Fever – she haz it.

We actually went to the Olympic Superstore at the Bay this weekend to pick up a pin that she won and to do some other sundry Olympic shopping. I don’t want to reveal the extent of our purchases, but let’s just say our dog is now sleeping on a fleece mascot named MukMuk.

I know better than to mock Katr’s latest craze – it makes her extremely easy to buy for this holiday season and Sweet Lavendar Lord, she’s certainly had to deal with her fair share of crazy from me.

For instance, Katr not only fuels my yarn addiction but for this, our second wedding anniversary, she also supported my obsession with Victoriana by giving me this gorgeous necklace from CatherinetteRings on Etsy! Isn’t it pretty?

I LOVE IT.

This piece seems more suited to a fancy night out but it’s also pretty great to have something nice to wear to the Olympic store. Win!

Happy Anniversary Katr! I love you more and more every day. And so does MukMuk.

Beijing pin image from the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Online Store – don’t sue me, Olympic Store! You already have most of my money already.

Creampuff is Loud and also Queer!

The 18th annual Loud n’ Queer Cabaret is happening THIS WEEKEND in Edmonton! That’s right – Loud n’ Queer has finally graduated to “barely legal” status! Dirty.

As usual, yours truly has a new piece in the cabaret that she won’t get to actually see. One day, Edmonton! One day I will return!

Each night is a different programme, so you should go to both! It looks like a fantastic, hilarious and very talented queer line up again this year – so if you’re kicking around Edmonton, Alberta, Canada this weekend, why not head on down to La Cité Francophone for some hot, queer action?

Here are the details:

Loud & Queer Cabaret
7:30 p.m.
At La Cité Francophone, #130, 8627 91st Street
$25 advance/$30 door, visit www.tixonthesquare.ca or call 780-420-1757
Produced by Guys in Disguise and Workshop West Theatre and is presented by Exposure: Edmonton’s Queer Arts & Culture Festival.

The longest-running queer arts showcase of its kind in western Canada, Loud & Queer is an inter-arts celebration of all that is emerging and fabulous in the world of queer culture. Hosted by the fierce and fabulous duo of Darrin Hagen and Kristy Harcourt.

Curated and directed by Darrin Hagen.

Starring Harvey Anderson, Nadien Chu, Linda Grass and Branden Martin.

Creampuff is So Not Ready for October

1. Pink for October!

2. How is it October? Seriously - one minute ago it was July. Holy fucking shit.

3. The only reason I know it's October and not July is that I can't go anywhere these days without getting a pumpkin scone in the face. And by "getting a pumpkin scone in the face", I mean "buying and consuming a pumpkin scone at every possible opportunity."

4. I feel very behind on reporting the minutiae of my day-to-day life. Here are a few highlights:

• I found a lump under my arm last month. Clearly it was a huge tumor and I was going to die. Histrionics aside, I borrowed some courage from the extraordinary and eloquent zoom and her recent experience with breast cancer and went to the doctor.

She felt me up. I held my breath. Diagnosis? An ingrown hair. HA ha! She drew me a very scientific ingrown hair diagram as I giggled with relief. Then she prescribed me some topical ointment that cost a million dollars. It worked like a charm! And I still have almost all of it left. So hey - if you have a bad rash and live in Vancouver, let me know and I can hook you up with this cream.

• My friend Jeba sent me a magnet with a cartoon drawing of anal beads on it. The accompanying card said "What's up your ass?" JEALOUS? Here is a photo:

• The internet is magic! Obviously I knew this already - I met Katr on the internet, for one thing, and there was also the time the Edmonton Public Library tweeted me about a book called Ultimate Porno. But last week, internet magic struck again when an old colleague of mine, MK, interviewed me for her theatre blog, One Big Umbrella.

In the interview, I cheekily told her that I had long felt that my latest full-length work should be produced at the Shaw Festival (which, if you are unfamiliar with Shaw, is a fairly lofty ambition - a little "out of my league", one might say, if one wanted to be "brutally honest" but also a little "douche-y"). I suggested Shaw should "give me a call".

The next day, I got an email from the Shaw Festival and the subject line was "Gay lady theatre". HAHAHAHAAAA!!

It turns out that I actually know the lovely literary manager at Shaw and she told me that if I thought my play was "right for Shaw" I could send it her way. So on Friday, I totally did.

Now, I'm not completely delusional. Just because there was a little internet magic doesn't mean that anything will come of this and just because *I* think my play is perfect for Shaw doesn't mean it is...except OMG, IT TOTALLY IS. Just do it, Shaw!

5. Why did I start this list in the first place? You know what, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that it's time for another pumpkin spice latte and Starbucks does not deliver. Nor will they strap your drink to your dog, even if you call ahead and tell them the dog is coming.