Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff to Sea Lions: "Quit Looking at My Rack"

It's been a year since my last brilliant sea lion video. Don't lie to me - I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to see another instalment of me yapping away in Monterey while filming what I claim are the majestic creatures of the shallows known as "sea lions" but which appear to be rocks. Not even fuzzy rocks - just rocks.

I have to pat myself on the back, for I feel that my filmmaking technique is vastly improved this year. By which I mean "I stood closer to the sea lions. Because this damn camera only zooms in so far in video mode".

Behold!

After all of your derisive comments last year, I took the precaution of also adding some sea lion photos to back up my claims.

Sea lion #1: Ungh.

Sea lion #2: I feel you.

Sea lion #3: Do you guys smell me? I think I smell myself.

Sea lion #4: Clyde - don't make me club you.

Sea lion #1: Ungh.

Sea lion #2: For real.

Clyde: Whoa! Check out that chick's rack!

Sea lion #4: I totally have that shirt.

Sea lion #5: Silent, he balances on the surface of the water, surveying the landscape. He spies her, splayed regally on the rock, her dark brown pelt glistening in the sun's rays. As he prepares to make his move, he can't help chuckling to himself. She'll never see it coming...

Sea lion #6: Angelo - I can hear you narrating.

Sea lion #7: Ohhh, yeah, baby. You know what time it is.

Sea lion #7: It's BUSINESS TIME.

Look at that wink! That sea lion was totally coming on to me. Nice try, Smoove. I'm TAKEN.

Creampuff Thinks One of the Sisters Fed Me Glass

I had a blast at the Northern Voice conference last weekend, meeting other fabulous bloggers, many of whom I am still in the process of adding to my blogroll. I went to the conference because Katr was going and I was curious about what happens at a blogging conference. I mean, it's blogging. How much do we need to talk about it? Isn't that what our blogs are for? And so on. The most hilarious thing was how people were on their laptops blogging about the sessions about blogging the whole day. It was all very meta.

I was not among the live blogging crowd, obviously, because there weren't any sessions about how to incorporate more witty sophisticated bathroom humour into your writing or how many hot pictures of Dawn French you can post on your lesbian blog before she'll send you a cease and desist (turns out it's twelve, if you're interested)(Also, I'm available to speak on these topics next year, Northern Voice organizers.)

But I did start the following list during the awesome From Book to Blog or Blog to Book blogging author panel. Because one of the people on the panel was author, blogger and Agnes of God, Meg Tilly.

Ha ha! I know! Meg Tilly!

Ways In Which Meg Tilly and I Are Similar:

• We are both part Asian
• My dad is a big fan of both of our work
• We are both bloggers
• We are both rocking the salt and pepper look
• We both live in B.C. and have dogs
• You can find both of us on Wikipedia:
• Meg Tilly
• Me (okay, it's not about me - but I get a mention in the third sentence! Jealous?)

• We have both played nuns - she won a Golden Globe and was nominated for an Oscar; I received Honourable Mention from the Alberta Public School Board High School Drama Festival.
• We are both lithe dancer-types with an ethereal, childlike beauty (oh, wait . . . yeah, that's just Meg Tilly).

I was too shy to go and try to have my picture taken with Meg Tilly once the panel was over; she seemed very sweet and approachable, but I am too big a dork and was afraid I might blurt out "Hi! One of the sisters fed me glass!!", which is Padu and my favourite line from Agnes of God. I might also have made a joke about how I exclusively use pigeon shit to navigate on road trips since I saw Leaving Normal (also one of my favourite films), but "stalker" is rarely the vibe you want to give off in these situations and I figured it would be best just to leave it.

Fate intervened, however, and not long after the session, Katr and I found ourselves sitting a few feet away from where Meg Tilly had just joined the lunch line. We struck up a conversation with her revolving around lunch and then Katr, fed up with my recalcitrance, nudged me into action. And so it came to pass that I bestowed the one Creampuff Revolution blog card I gave out the whole weekend upon Meg Tilly. She giggled at my tag line (Fat. Naked. Dangerous.) and we chatted about blogging, as you do.

She was enchanting. And just as she was probably starting to wonder why I was still talking to her, word arrived that they were out of food and she was whisked away by another author from the panel. Which is good, because I was seconds away from telling her about how I first saw Agnes of God on video at my friend Lori's birthday party when I was 12 because Lori's mom thought it would be like Nunsense and guess what? IT WASN'T.

So here I am in Monterey again this year, acting as Katr's arm candy for the TED conference. Last year, we checked in next to Forest Whitaker and I saw Cameron Diaz in the lobby but this year, I'm not casting my keen, celebrity seeking eye about with as much vim. 'Cause, you know - I met Meg Tilly! And I look forward to enjoying her lovely cozy blog and trying out her muffin recipes. Mmm...delicious muffins...

Third Tag's the Charm for Creampuff

When people tag me to write certain kinds of posts, I don't like to respond RIGHT AWAY. You know, I like to let tags ripen, like a good cheese or a bold Shiraz or Olympia Dukakis. I also like to let them pile up. Every now and then I open the room in my brain where they are stored and I see them, glittering in the gloom behind a pile of unread issues of The Beaver: Canada's History Magazine.

So Sparkles, Whozat and recent birthday girl Becky - this 7 Things About Me (Food Edition) is for you! (Special to Kimananda - I haven't forgotten you - but I AM saving yours for the holidays. You know why.)

1. Rice. I do not care for it. Last weekend, for example, I spent a goodly amount of time making a delicious beef stew. Katr suggested I add "a handful" of rice to the pot, to starch it up a little. I thought she was being skimpy with the rice because she knows I do not care for it, so I decided to take one for the team and add a little more. The demon rice proceeded to suck up all the available moisture, turning the stew into strice. Katr was annoyed with me for not listening to her. I was annoyed with the rice. Fucking rice.

I do like rice pudding, but I really see it more as a delivery method for cream and raisins.

2. Raw carrots give me hiccups.

3. I have a chocolate ritual. Whenever I eat chocolate - every time - I always internally quote the creampuff kid in the original 1976 Bad News Bears who, when the coach suggests he lay off the junk food, replies: "There's ENERGY in chocolate. I NEED ENERGY."

4. I love disgusting diet pop. I remember my friend Chma recoiling in horror in the late '80's when we were eating fries n' gravy at Meadowlark Mall and I cracked a can of diet chocolate flavoured soda. 20 years later and fucked up pop flavours are still the first thing I reach for in the convenience store. I can't help myself. It's like Thrills or soap candy - gross and yet COMPELLING. I nearly lost my shit in the States one time when I found Diet Holiday Spice Pepsi. I bought up the 7-11's entire stock of Diet Strawberry Pepsi Jazz last September and my most recent obsession is Diet Dr. Pepper Chocolate Covered Cherry. It tastes like carbonated Tootsie Rolls. Mmmmm - gah.

5.  My first word was "guggen". What does that mean? It means "cookie". Because as an infant, I was German.

6. I am famous for this party trick. Once, at a birthday party when I was a child, I laughed so hard a whole maraschino cherry came out my nose.

7. I am a hick and like the milk. I know dark chocolate is sexy these days and has actual health benefits like anti-oxidants and shit but most of the time I'd rather hit myself in the face with a board than eat dark chocolate. There, I said it! And I feel free!

Tag complete! Now I'm hungry. I'm supposed to tag other people, but you know how that always turns out. Tears - recriminations - flaming bags of dog shit. So instead, I tag the first seven people who leave me a comment telling me they want to do it! HA ha! Hic ha! Hic ha! Fucking carrots...

Creampuff Landslide

I staunchly refuse to do a lot of things. Some are just common sense - I wouldn't stick a razor inside my nose, for example. But some things I won't do because everyone else is doing them and I like to be ornery. This orneryness has led to some decisions I'm proud of. It has also led to me carrying a fuzzy brown wiener dog purse named Quincy until I was in my late 20's.

Now that I've sucked the pipe and joined Facebook, I've started to give some thought to a few other things I've been holding out on, not necessarily on principle but just because it pleases me to resist them.

The Hair

I've been going grey since I was 17. It's been cool. The grey has arranged itself in interesting, only slightly skunk-like streaks and has provided delightful free highlights for several years. I've enjoyed the contrast of my fresh young face and my hilarious grey hair and congratulated my follicles for following in the footsteps of comedian Steve Martin, my snowy-haired childhood idol. Oh Steve. I believe that robots are stealing MY luggage too.

Lately though, I have to say, the hair is not working for me. Now, I could just need a good haircut. But I have also started to consider going down the dark, glossy chestnut brown path of actually colouring it. I KNOW!! The expense! The maintenance! The ROOTS! And yet . . . and yet, friends. If I can't rock the grey hair as hard as Lex, should I even bother trying? Let's go to the polls:

The L Word

I really don't know why I've been resisting this show so mightily. I'll watch lots of other shows with impossibly pretty people in them and most of those feature FAR less hot lesbian sex. For someone who's always complaining about how there's not enough lesbian entertainment out there, to not at least ATTEMPT to watch the one lesbian show just because it's a fantasy soap opera world where there are no creampuff lesbians is a little  . . . oh, also, MY MOTHER WATCHES IT. She gets it FROM THE LIBRARY. Yeah, that's right.

Having Kids

I know I joke about having joined the Voluntary Human Extinction Movement back in college, but I have to say - all these baby hats I'm knitting have really got my ovaries working overtime.

Every time I finish one, I imagine it crowning the soft dome of my own baby's pointy little -Hahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! Woooooooooooooooooo!! Just kidding guys! Sorry Mom.

Using a Real Pattern

I love knitting, but a lot of mine - why be coy? - is shitty. This is because a lot of the time I like to get IDEAS from patterns, but not actually USE patterns. That's not to say I can't read or use patterns - I just don't like to. Some of my knit-speriments have worked out okay while others . . . well, we shall not speak of them. The thing is, while I loathe to do things like "pay attention" or "be precise", I have also (finally) grown tired of churning out crap. I don't want to lose my adventurous, woolly spirit, but I have to say I'm actually following a pattern for a project right now and it's turning out pretty nice. Well, I changed the toe and stuff, but that doesn't really count.

Obviously, I'm still merely CONSIDERING these activities. I'm hoping the polls will help me decide! Then again, what if I decide to do the opposite of what you all think, just to be ornery?

Creampuff Distraction

Many of you have emailed me privately to ask why, WHY, after my many and varied protestations, I totally caved and joined Facebook yesterday. The reason is too embarrassing and mundane to go into detail about here; suffice to say that it involved a good-looking woman who isn't my spouse and a German existentialist fable.

While I may have gone over to the dark side, it's important to remember that innocence and purity still exist in the world.

Exhibit A:

Oh my holy Jesus. This baby is KILLING me softly with his hat. Killing me softly - with his hat, telling my whole life - with his hippo jumper. It's the kind of picture that makes me think about having babies. Thank goodness I read this right after seeing the photo. Whew! Reproduction averted.

Many thanks to my cousin Jero for the gorgeous soft blue Baby Ull yarn, which she gave me as a wedding gift. And many thanks to the baby's parents, who let me post their gorgeous son's picture on my blog for knit bragging purposes.

Where did I first see this photo? Yeah . . . Facebook. I'm not proud of it, but there it is.

Creampuff Succumbs

I joined the Facebook.