Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff's Personal "127 Hours"

It was a blustery Saturday morning. I had gotten Katr her coffee, the dog had been walked and I was just doing a little clean up in the kitchen before starting an omelette. A week of being too lazy to take out the garbage had taken its toll on "kitchen freshness" - so I decided to be industrious and take the bag out before starting to make breakfast.

I boodled out to the garbage enclosure. The first bin was full, so I had to step inside to deposit the bag. A gust of wind blew up and the door shut behind me.

Locking me in.

And there I was. Trapped in the roofless garbage area. In the rain.

Ballsack.

I rattled the door. One time, in our old apartment, I got locked out and I just sort of leaned on the door and the shitty doorjam splintered and I got back in. This technique did not work on the sturdy garbage area latch.

I wracked my brain. Hadn't this same thing happened to our neighbour Syvo not long after we moved into this place? Yes! What did she do? She had her phone! So she called me and I let her out!

I didn't have my phone.

Katr was home and knew that I'd gone out to the garbage area. But she also knows that I'm chatty as fuck and will often wile away half an hour talking to various neighbours, rubbing their dogs and hearing about their old people health problems. I knew she'd come look for me...eventually. But until then...huh.

You'd think after three years, I'd be more careful about getting locked into the garbage area. But the thing is that we usually keep a padlock on the latch, which, when opened to admit access to the garbage area, prevents the latch from closing all the way.

I'd taken the padlock off earlier in the week, when the weather was below freezing and the lock became very difficult to open. Maybe getting trapped in the garbage area was some kind of karmic payback for having a lock on that latch to begin with.

The padlock on the garbage area makes me feel like a bourgeois asshole. Like I'm saying to the people who want to go through our garbage "Our caviar garbage is too fancy for you, riff raff."

But the reality is that the people who go through our garbage are the reason we had to put the padlock on, because they would go in there and rip through the garbage bags and leave all the garbage strewn around, so that at 6:30 a.m. on rainy Monday morning, I would have to pick all of our fucking garbage up and put it in the bins AGAIN before dragging the bins into the alley. Not cool.

Also, we were pretty sure that drunk people were fucking in there on weekends. Which is surprising, because it's not super sexy in there. I would know. Being trapped and all.

The walls of the enclosure are too high to see over, so I started jumping up periodically to see if anyone was around. Our neighbour isn't a high action place but there's usually SOMEONE wandering around, walking their dog, smoking or having a shouty cell phone conversation with their ex. I tore a flap of cardboard off a box and started waving it around over the door, just in case someone in the apartment building opposite saw and came to investigate. I alternated waving and jumping. Nada.

About fifteen minutes in - just as I was thinking about adding a screaming sound to my jumping and waving efforts - my other neighbours Jaco and Kich emerged from their back door on the second floor - which looks directly into the garbage area. I have never been so happy to see them - and was also filled with gratitude that we have the kind of nice, friendly neighbours who will let you out of the garbage area instead of asshole neighbours who would ignore you for weird, vindictive reasons. They laughingly sprung me from the garbage enclosure.

Giddy with freedom, I boodled back to the loving arms of Katr, all the while imagining how Danny Boyle would film my story. It would probably be pretty artsy.

The padlock is back on the latch...but there is also a new addition, thanks to handy upstairs neighbour Je(I don't know his last name). After hearing about my fifteen minutes of incarceration, he called to tell me that he's rigged the latch with a wire that's attached to a nail on the inside of the enclosure, so that if anyone gets trapped in there again, they can let themselves out. He didn't call it an "idiot string" - but I do. 

And I am very thankful it's there.

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...

It Takes a Village

My yearning for a Christmas village began at a young age. I remember the first time I saw those tiny, glowing houses at a friend's Christmas gathering and really thought about pulling a "Laura Ingalls stealing a music box from Nellie's birthday party" kind of move in order to make one of them my own.

Fortunately, I realized that I couldn't possible pull this off - not because my '80s hammer pants were not voluminous enough but because it would cause my crotch to glow invitingly. It's a good thing it didn't occur to me that the houses were just plugged in and did not glow due to Christmas magic - my life could have turned out veeeeeeeeeery differently.

My intense yearning for a Christmas village continued through my youth and into my young adulthood, but it was one of those things - like STDs and how you secretly liked Wesley Crusher - that you didn't talk about. In fact, my shame over wanting these kitschy holiday items over-powered my desire for over 30 years. Until this year. When the dam burst and I told Katr.

Katr doesn't love clutter. But she does love me. She tried to deke me out by suggesting that she wasn't going to indulge my village yearnings, but when, in the face of her masterful deception, my face crumpled like the saddest lesbian in Lesbonia, she gave up her wicked charade and the next day, this appeared:

Please excuse the blurry photo. My hand was shaking with excitement.

Part of the joy of the village is being able to look at it lovingly throughout the holiday season - this is difficult to achieve when you unwrap your village gifts on Christmas morning. Katr gave me this stunning Bluebird Cottage from Department 56's Dickens collection on December 8th. Because she knew how bad I wanted a village. And because I like things that are Dickensian.

At first, it was just the Bluebird Cottage, lonely on the ledge, yet warm and inviting, with its glowing light inside. 

Then, one magical Christmas eve, these babes showed up, courtesy of my brother in law Drtr.

And the next morning, Stratford Pies and Tarts opened up and the whole neighbourhood went to hell.

Flirting by the fish and chips...

The Tea Lady and the Pie Man are clearly TOTALLY DOING IT. Look at those guilty mugs! Like we just caught them at something illicit! Plus, the Pie Man appears to be sporting wood. Good period detail, Department 56.

Those nuns stayed ALL NIGHT. Also, note the adorable birdhouse in the back. It's a wee little church!! 

Aw, yeah, motherfuckin' VILLAGE.

It took all I had to pack the village up this year as we were putting away our holiday decorations. But I know that it wouldn't be special if it was up all year round! I can't wait to see what building pops up in Roseshire next year! Because I am a HUGE NERD.

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?

Creampuff Realizes It's 2013

Happy New Year! Since the world didn't end, I guess it's back to the blogging. I hope you all had lovely holidays, filled with family, friends, food and Furtles! 

We got a little more snow than usual this year and got to witness the hilarity of Vancouver drivers trying to maneuvre their ultimate driving machines through the drive-thru at the Tim Hortons. Sadly, we also had to go out driving in the snow to deliver our Presents of Peace to the family we sponsored through the YWCA. We were like two fat lady Santas, getting lost in blizzard-bound Coquitlam with Rudolf the Red Nosed Shar Pei in the back seat keeping us warm with her emissions. But, just like Santa, the gifts were delivered and then we had cookies! Generosity and white-knuckle driving was a great way to kick off the holidays.

Nobody here owns a shovel.

While I'm super bitter that the holidays have now ended, there is one thing that removes the sting: it's resolution time, guys!! Wooo! I LOVE making resolutions when the year is new and minty fresh. I realize that resolution-making has kind of fallen out of vogue among the hip and logical and to them I say YOU'RE DEAD INSIDE. It's a new YEAR!!!!!! Resolve, you cynical fuckos!

Emmy is very stern about resolution-making.

As is my wont, I've been reviewing last year's resolutions to see how I made out.

1. Bi-weekly Yoga. YES. With the exception of our Hawaii trip and also, this holiday, bi-weekly yoga has continued Chez Creampuff. IN FACT, for about half the year, I actually did yoga 5 - 6 times a week. This was because our teacher Jane made me start doing this move that made me want to barf every time and I had to start working on it outside of class. Well-played, Jane.

2. Sugar cleanse. SORT OF. One weekend this fall, Katr and I started a two-day cleanse where all we would eat were fruits and vegetables. The cleanse lasted about 8 hours. Then we had a fight and ordered from Pizza Hut.

3. Become a yoga douchebag who doesn't eat sugar. I was just kidding about this last year, but this year I am GOING FOR IT.

4. Pick something and fucking work on it. SORT OF. I fully picked something. But then I failed to work on it.

5. Weekly blogging. Well, this year was better than last year!! So...shut up. 

This year:

1. 5X Yoga. This does not mean that I'm going to do a full on yoga practice five times a week. I'M NOT AN ANIMAL. But I will get the mat out at least five times a week in hopes that by practising more often, my cries of "Ugh! Ballsack!" during our yoga lessons will diminish. I think Jane would like it if I quit screaming "Ballsack" during her class.

2. More thoughtful notes. Lately, when I've been thinking of someone fondly, or I've had a dream in which we go snorkeling together in Dubai, I've been sending a note to that person to let them know I've been thinking of them. It's nice and I'd like to do it more consistently. People should know when you're thinking of them fondly. But not fondle-ingly. That you should keep to yourself, unless you're married before the Lord.

3. Get up without making a noise. My mom was telling me the other day about how HER friend was telling her that they should practice getting out of chairs gracefully, because you can really tell how old someone is by how they struggle to get out of a chair. When I get out of a chair, I usually grunt "Awww fuckballs".

My mother is very lithe and fit, so getting out of a chair or off the couch isn't really a problem for her. You know who else this isn't a problem for? Jean Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. That cat gets out of his captain's chair with great spirit and alacrity EVERY TIME. I would like to be more like Jean Luc Picard. Star Trek TNG is on Netflix now and we're halfway through Season 2.

4. Drink more tea. One of my solstice gifts this year was an amazing box of delicious herbal teas from the new big deal in teas, David's Tea (most boring name ever but the tea...so good). I have a bodum and I am ready to steep ALL YEAR. Today we tried Green & Fruity (very fruity) and Jessie's Tea (hints of coconut and lavender - I didn't mind it but Katr says NO).

5. Weekly blogging. I swear, this will be the year! Weekly blogging, not just blogging when my friend Jeba sends me an accusatory note via Facebook. Honestly, I know you guys don't give a wet shit if I blog more often, but since I'm too lazy to keep a diary, having an up to date blog is the only way I can keep track of the things I am mad about.

That's all I have so far...but the year is young! Are you resolutioning this year? Or do you think resolutions are for the weak?