five cupcakes? unfathomable!

Not that I was a die-hard fan of the television show, but the movie? Fab.u.lous. The clothes, the city, the sets! Tonight, packed theatre. Elbow-to-elbow estrogen. We can only assume that the three males in the audience were gay.

Back to fab.u.lous. I am terribly sorry if you are a cinesnob, but this movie, for whatever reason... deserves all the cupcakes. Of course you can wait until it comes out on DVD. But see it on the big screen if you can! It is so sparkly. I think I shed a little tear, and for that I am slightly embarassed but hey, I'm a chick.

Bad mother report: I took Loopy with me to see this movie. She needed a little girls night. Yes, some of the subject matter was too mature... yes, there were a couple of nude scenes. Our finely honed "earmuffs" technique caused her little or no trauma. I'd also checked it out online (thanks to Tipper Gore!) and found out beforehand that there was no language warning, just a nudity warning. Nudity, that we can deal with.

Guess what was in our inbox when we got home? Kelly sent us an iTunes gift of the Sex and the City soundtrack. Did we know you could do that? We did not. We were just saying at the end of the movie how good the soundtrack was... and there it was, waiting for us when we got home. I've said it before and I'll say it again: that Kelly. What a sweetie.

I'm posting 30 of my favourite wedding photos during the month of June. How fun and/or boring for you. Here are two of the pink flamingos that greeted the guests on the way into our ceremony at the University. The woman that rented them to us was awful. She was difficult to get hold of, she put up a horrible sign beside them that advertised her business (did I mention anything about a discount? No I did not).

When The Fan and I took down the hideous signage, flamingo lady phoned (how she knew we took down the sign... I don't know... stalker) and threatened to come and take all fifty of her pink flamingos back. Oh, well. At least they were up for the arrival of the guests and a few photo ops. We don't know what time she came to get the damned things, but then.there.were.none. She only left behind these two darlings that I made specially for us.

man do I ever miss home schooling

Today was Battle of the Bands at Buddy's high school.

Not all of the bands were very good... Buddy's was.

Each band could perform three songs.

Some of the bands were just loud and noisy. Buddy's band actually sounded quite good... until...

... a gross error of judgement by (see above and below) the lead singer - a bad word slipped out of his mouth - and the plug got pulled.

... and the best part of home schooling? No principal's office. This too shall pass.

thanks kanye

The following is an excerpt of a conversation I had with Buddy Budderson in March:

Buddy Budderson: I'm so glad you guys are back from Arizona! I'm sooo hungry and there's no food in the house.

Saucy: No food? There was plenty of food when we left.

Buddy: Mom! I ate it. The guys and I ate it all. Like that! The cookies were awesome.

Saucy: What about the money? Dad and I left you with two hundred dollars for groceries, gas and emergencies. You had money to buy food.

Buddy: Oh, I ate at Grandma's. I used that money to buy a ticket to see m'boy, Kanye! We got third row! S-weet!

Last night, Buddy Budderson and his boys went to see Kanye. (And yes, I did make him pay back the emergency money... I do not fund Kanye tickets).

Maybe Kanye won me over. Everyone attending the concert received a copy of his book (hmm, yes, his "book"), Thank You and You're Welcome, written "with" J. Sakiya Sandifer. Described on Kanye's very own website as:

... an entertaining volume of "Kanye-isms "-- the creative, humorous and insightful philosophies and anecdotes used in creating his path to success. It captures the same wit, playful irony, and piercing insight found abundant in his lyrics.

In Thank You And You're Welcome! Kanye delivers his personal message uncensored, without any five-second delay or media distortion.

"My book is a guide to creating then celebrating your moment!" says Kanye.

Okay, Kanye, what'ya got?

Life is 5% what happens, and 95% how you react!
em-brace your flaws!
Believe in your FLYNESS... conquer your SHYNESS

and my personal favourite:

never justify your behaviour with the wrongs of others

With a short foreward dedicated to his late mother, Kanye wins me over by simply giving the book to his fans... a gesture of positivity in a negative world.

And for the record, yes Kanye, I agree that George Bush probably does hate black people.

Positivity! Kanye-style! Whoo-hoo to Lecia for her contributions to the latest issue of Canadian Scrapbooker! Check it out on newsstands until August 31. Her work is featured throughout, and she wrote "Make it a Masterpiece" (p. 33). Way to go, Lecia! You are am-a-zing. If Kanye would rather have 10% from someone who is outstanding than 100% from an average person, I'd like to thank you now for your ten percent! You know what I mean.

celebrating darling

My sister-in-law Darling reached a milestone today: she graduated with her Master's Degree at University Convocation. Tonight we planned a family celebration. Of course, I got up early to put all my gifts from Kelly to good use:

24 delicious cupcakes made using the Magnolia Bakery cookbook Kelly sent for Christmas. Baked in the pans she sent for my birthday! And then oh so carefully loaded into my cupcake caddies for transport to the party.

In order to avoid a near collision, Veto hit the brakes on the way to the party. Turns out, no cupcake caddy can protect the most heavily frosted handheld cakes from trauma:

Needless to say, I was un-hap-py. Prone to drama at the best of times, I almost didn't even take them into the party. I mean, why spend five hours baking these festive little frosting piles from scratch and then produce them as smooshy lumps? WWMD? (What would Martha do?)

We took them inside. At least they tasted delicious. We managed to salvage one of the white-chocolate-dipped cupcakes for a photo op with the guest of honour, Darling. You see that smirk on my brother's face? He's loving this.

I may get a chance to redeem myself, Darling is considering PhD programs. This calls for more cupcakes!

worse, then better, repeat.

While renovating, you must tell yourself that things are going to get worse before they will get better. Repeat this mantra over and over at every stage - and eventually it will sink in.

Our house flip has been stalled on "worse before better" for a week or so... lots of progress, but no "better" parts... until this weekend.

You see?? Better already! The new staircase is in, the funny I-don't-know-what-the-hell-that-shape-is is closed in and things are beginning to look alot like normal. Finally.
And what is normal? Normal is Saucy taking pictures of other people working. Here, Veto looks worn out and tired as he puts the finishing touch of paint on the garage. He worked on the garage all last weekend and this weekend.

Remember: repeat, "worse, then better... worse, then better"

The humble beginnings of a kitchen pantry there on the right. The plumbing above the cabinets is proof that we went ahead and put a bathroom in the master suite, oh yes we did.

And this? The gem of the backyard. I have a new understanding of people after posting this beauty on kijiji for FREE. Lots of people like free, useless crap. I got emails from 27 different people wanting this!

Best line, from the guy who came to take it away (for FREE, may I add): Geez, this is going to need a lot of work. Some of those pieces near the bottom need to be replaced, and it needs paint. I'll take it off your hands, but it's going to need lots of work to make it respectable...

Best line not spoken by Saucy: Duh! It's FREE. I know 26 other half-blind people with questionable taste who will come and get it if you don't want it. You're ungrateful. I should push you down that well like that little kid from Texas.

But I said nothing, because The Fan didn't bring me up that way... oh wait... she did! What was I thinking? Did I ever tell you that she threatened to cut a knife salesman with his wares when he woke her early on a Sunday morning? Oh yes she did! She really did.

How about some positive vibe? My birthday gift from Miss Kelly! Ooooh she spoiled me so. Check out this sassy little beach coverup... in just my perfect colours.
Cupcake caddy.... freakin' nice! The Martha one! That Martha. That Kelly.

And just in case I have bakers block... a cookbook of 500 cupcake recipes. I'm on it. Starting this weekend.

Oh, and Loopy and I are going to have a fight over this, we decided. A dragonfly shirt. Sweet.

And yes, I can get things done under my own roof these days. I made it into the craft room to set up the snazzy ribbon rack that The Secret Weapon made for my birthday. This bad boy holds one tonne of ribbon, satisfying my obsessive-compulsive need to sort and organize.

Oh, and Veto hit me in the head with a hammer tonight. He feigned that it was an accident but secretly I think he was disgusted that I took photos of him at work and I was.... taking photos. I may have a massive concussion, I haven't decided yet. Just in case, I made him take me to Dairy Queen for preventative therapy.

things i adore

a stream of conciousness list
that doesn't include family members
just things

teddy bears. old movies. yorkshire terriers. making lists. crossing things off lists.
sorting things. art supply stores. planning parties. blog hopping. leaving comments.
getting comments. wrapping gifts. ladybugs. the number five.
platinum and diamonds. slippers. fresh flowers. book stores.
magazines. dragonflies. sunshine. sleeping. tea. raspberries.
yoo hoo. getting postcards. staying home. my iPod.
bedazzling things. taking photographs. baking. pears. costco ice cream.
the red sox. my glue gun. aprons. a manicure. cupcakes.
soaking my feet. Saturday Night Live. The Office.
carmex lip balm. nice hand cream. new socks.
my collection of Martha Stewart Living magazines.
my camera. the pearl earrings I've worn every day since 1983.
my craft room. the photo I took of Gramps. hot chocolate with marshmallows.
frozen yogurt. thunderstorms.
loopy turning into a lovely young lady. proactive skincare.
benefit cosmetics. getting my feet rubbed by buddy.
going for a long walk if I'm up to it. buying when it's on sale.
getting ready for Christmas. frying a whole chicken Martha's way.
blue boxes with white bows. peonies from the garden.
sprinkle doughnuts. Tim Horton's iced capps.
when the dogs both nap with me on the sofa.
people who read my blog.


All four of us ventured over to the cineplex to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. It will be hard to review it for you without spoiling it so let me just say:

Harrison Ford: still very charming and believable

Shia Labeouf: winning me over

Cate Blanchette: beautiful, even when she is sinister

Chase scenes: thrilling

Lighting: so well done as to be noticeable

Snakes: he's still afraid of them

The costumes: worn by the actors and the audience, we saw four Indys

The plot: easy to follow, even if you missed two of the original trilogy

The end: satisfying!

The verdict: pretty close to four out of five cupcakes. It was awfully loud.

jobs at the woman's colony

I'm a realist. If Mrs. G gets the Woman's Colony up and running for the enjoyment of her readers, there will still be some responsibility to be had there. She will need help, make no doubt of it, in order to keep things running smoothly. We cannot leave this to men, we have established that much.

And so, consider this my application for a position at The Woman's Colony. I would make a fine group leader. But perhaps my talents lay elsewhere and would be more beneficial: fundraising.

Oh sure, Mrs. G promises long, lazy days of reading, spa treatments and bonding conversation. But we need to pay for it. Mrs. G has lots of ideas for funding The Colony, including turning tricks and celebrity endorsement.

But I must hearken (again with the British spelling) back to my freshman year at university. Or hearken further, to the summer before freshman year. I was employed full time at a well-paying job. Every penny I made went towards the cost of tuition and books for the upcoming academic year a new truck, a new dog, private pilot's lessons, going out with friends.

Thus, the day of reckoning arrived. My mother, The Fan knew that I'd not set aside one single penny towards the school year. She anticipated the whining, the pleading, the eye-fluttering that I would present to my father, The Secret Weapon. It was true. That was my financial plan.

The night before registration day, my friends invited me to go - to of all places - the race track. Having never been before and always up for new things wanting to get away from my mother, I split for the track immediately, where I placed the last few dollars to show for my summer of work on some special kind of race that I don't really understand but it had to do with three horses placing in three races or something like that... and of course you know where this is going...

The Fan woke me early the next morning to chastise me for my flagrant disregard of my financial responsibility and was met with a fistful of cash that paid for my tuition, my books, and then some - including a fistful of memberships in the social clubs on campus. Ha! I showed her!

Job skill number two: I should have a job at The Colony because I can look into the future and project the needs that we women might have. Why, I have already left a contingency plan for my bedridden years to deal with that recurring little hair that grows on my chin:
Yes, I am an over-planner, unlike my pre-college summer. I always have the essentials tucked away on my person, so I'm good in a pinch:

And you may remember that I 'fessed up to the fact that when I laugh too hard, a little pee comes out. I've taken care of that for the future too, and I will gladly share:

But the more obvious reason that I am a perfect candidate for - dare I say it - some sort of administrative position at The Woman's Colony - is that like our fearless leader Mrs. G, I too have had issues with my hair over the years.
It began at the hands of The Fan:

And later, a lesser-maintenance hairdo to see me through grade school:

But high school approached, and I heard that hair was IMPORTANT there...

Truth be told, this one was a bit of a costume of sorts but I wore it for the entire day, well past the point where I needed to wear it and I think that also says something about my dedication.
And so, fellow Woman's Colony members, let me work for you. I don't want this to be a long and ugly campaign. I'd like to have it sewn up before the convention.

tomorrow i am derfwad

Tomorrow I join the ranks of the most esteemed writers of my generation a handful of select bloggers as a guest blogger at Derfwad Manor. If you haven't met Mrs. G, the lady of the manor, let me introduce you.

Mrs. G is a mother, blogger, teacher, homeschooler, writer... and an inspiration. Her self-effacing and insightful wit keep her readers on the edge of their computer chair for more. Derfwad Manor was the original site of the Secret Celebrity Crush, where Mrs. G publicly declared her love for one Johnny Depp, and then got labeled a Sinny Sinnerson in her comments by an anonymous Judgy Judgerson. Nevertheless, Mrs. G dragged other bloggers out of the sinning closet and we subsequently declared our own celebrity crushes.

Mrs. G copped to the lies she told her children. Many of us fessed up to a few more of our own. We all regret raising such computer-literate children, because now the cat is out of the bag and we can't put the generic cereal into the Lucky Charms box anymore. But we're not blaming Mrs. G. Honesty is cleansing.

By far, the most interest that Mrs. G has sparked on her blog is for her own retirement plan, The Woman's Colony. Graciously, Mrs. G has shared her plan with her readers and invited us all to join her there. Once Mrs. G gets Oprah on board - and she will - her plan will come to fruition and we will all retire to a place where no toilet seat is left up, where Matt Damon-alikes are butlers, and three squares are prepared daily by not us.

Truly a class act, Mrs. G publicly apologized to a woman she wronged in the past, none other than the quasi-famous actress Sally Kellerman.

Come visit Mrs. G at Derfwad Manor and sign up to live at The Colony with us one day. The peace we will find there knows no bounds. Plus, James Bond will be the gardener, Mrs. G says so.
And because I'm no class act, it's time to reveal my final mark for Art History:

Yes, I flaked on the final. You do the math. I went into the final exam with a 99% average and it was only worth something like 20% of the final grade. I'm no math major, but I guess leaving and just not doing the essay portion probably hurt me.
I took the class for fun. About two hours into the final, it occurred to me.
"Hey, this was fun until a few minutes ago. Not having fun. I wonder if American Idol is on?"
And there you have it. 92 percent.