little bitty girl

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Posted in Family Shenanigans, Lurves

This song has been running through my head all week even though it has NOTHING to do with our situation, other than the title. We've been living in Ikea hell for the past week. Stefan keeps saying that he doesn't know why it's also "my" hell since he's been doing all the work. But he doesn't understand that his frustrations and moaning over the project has been grating on my already irritable nerves.

And really, I have no reason to be irritable. After all, this project has been in part, mainly for me and my burgeoning collection of books. I love to buy books. I still go to the library tons but I love to re-read books so I buy books that I know I will want to experience again. Unfortunately, there are a lot of those.

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Posted in Much To Do About Nothing, Stefan

Marie says Ryo is developing a crazy little personality which she attributes to me. As much as I would like to think that I could somehow have influenced my goddaughter halfway across the country, I can take no credit. That child was born with a personality; capital, bold P. My favourite part of this video is the interaction between Marie and Ryo. Watch out for her breathy, Marilyn Monroe-esque "Hi" towards the end. All I can say is - Teenage Ryo? Watch out boys!

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Posted in Family Shenanigans, Lurves

Anyone who knows me knows that I harbour a secret love for redheads and girls with curly hair. Not necessarily together, but you know, you always want what you can't and don't have. All my redheaded friends are these outrageously, fun, outgoing, spontaneous girls. Yes, I meet the occasional meek, shy, redheaded girl but they are very few and far in between. I think I admire their natural spunk.

And curly hair? Forget about it! For the longest time I wanted to make sure I married someone who could ensure my children would have afros. I know you think I married the whitest man alive but were I to scan his university pictures, you will see that Stefan truly is an albino black man. If he grows his hair quarter of an inch longer, he has this huge afro puff. Then there is his Bahamian born butt which we will not talk about right now. I sincerely hope our progeny inherits his follicles.

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Posted in Family Shenanigans, Me-ness, This is Why

This is going to sound like the most ridiculous thing but I have been looking for a basic black cardigan for the past month now. My old cardigan has finally bit the bullet, more like faded out and has been given to charity. You would think that replacing it would be the easiest thing.

Every week, I hit the stores and I come up with nothing. Isn't that bizarre? High end, low end, big chains, independent boutiques and STILL nothing. This is what I've encountered - long wooly sweater coats, V-neck tunic length, cropped body with cropped arms, crew neck with leg-o-mutton sleeves, beaded sequined patterns, sheer webby lace, vintage inspired cardigans with big buttons.

Don't get me wrong, I love variety, a twist on a regular theme. In fact, I already own five novelty black cardigans. I need to know what it takes to make one simple light weight merino wool, crew neck, button down cardigan.

Because at this point in time I am considering knitting one myself.

Except that I suck at knitting.

And I've never graduated past knitting a hat.

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Posted in Fashion Smashion

As everyone knows, I am pretty short so I always have to get my pants hemmed. I wish there was some sort of discount given since a large portion of my pants end up as scraps. When we first moved into the neighbourhood, I asked around for a good tailor. There were a bunch of dry cleaners around that offered hemming services but I had my heart set on an old school tailor. I was recommended Alexander Tailor just four blocks away from me.

"He's really grumpy, reminds me of the Soup Nazi from Seinfeld, but very good,"claimed a friend who had gotten one of her grandmother's vintage coats perfectly tailored and updated by him.

So I started going to Alexander Tailor then and it's been an interesting relationship. It's one of those tiny places, where a tiny bell rings when you enter and your senses are suddenly taken over by the smell of old magazines and fabric. The tailor was usually in the back and when you called out "Hello?" he would grumpily mutter back,"In a minute!" and just kept doing what he was doing until he was done.

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