the sugar-coated social

Happy New Year!

2011-12-29T13:27:00.000-08:00

A three-month hiatus on this forum is followed by a brief farewell. It's been a wild ride, 2011 but it's now time to bid you adieu. In fact, I'm thrilled to bits to wave goodbye to this year. It's not that it has been a particularly terrible time. On the contrary, it has been a year of good news, happy celebrations, the establishment of new friendships and the strengthening of old ones.

I am ready to turn the page. At the stroke of midnight, I hope you will join me in raising a glass in honour of all the hopes ignited, dreams inspired and ambitions fuelled by the dawning of another new year... May life be as you wish....

Hmmm... doesn't quite work. But, heck, I tried. The new-age peace-and-love-hippie mantra thing isn't really my thing so 'let me stick with what I know best. New Year. New Start. New Promises I'll Promise to Keep But Will Likely Break Within the First Three Months. New Self-Forgiveness and Justification for Said Broken Promises. New Ambitions. New Sensations. New Order. New Kids On The Block. New and Improved.

2012 - we hope the Mayans have gotten you all wrong, but if you are indeed the last year of the world, here's to putting a LOT of pressure on making it one for the history books (of which there will be none since it will be the end of the world, but you know where I'm going...)

Buon Anno, Bonne Année, Happy New Year to you!

Carly

My sphere of influence... Tacos

2011-09-09T13:08:00.000-07:00

Anyone involved in some form of social media activity has likely heard of Klout. Klout, as its name would suggest, measures how influential you are online based on how much you tweet, facebook, blog and who actually reads you. It then gives you a score (out of 100) and highlights categories you are particularly influential in. According to Klout, I am influential about one thing: Tacos. Why? No idea. But rather than try to shift the perception of my knowledge and influence to other things like fashion, make-up, public relations or other things I am actually involved in, I'm going to embrace this newly placed crown of expertise and share with you some of my absolute favourite taco, burrito, quesadilla and enchilada experiences.

1. The ones I dream about: Joey's Fish Tacos
Joey's - a Vancouver-based food chain, with a similar vibe and menu selection as Moxies and Milestones - has the best fish tacos I have ever tasted. Honestly. No. Exaggeration. They arrive, three six-inch, soft, warm corn tortillas filled with lightly seasoned, breaded white fish, then layered with their own tangy mole sauce, a sprinkling of cheese, a dollop of guacamole and just the right amount of cilantro. No sharesies either. Get your own and leave mine alone.

2. The ones I can't stop eating when I'm full: Milagro Tacuba Enchiladas
Typically ordered after a healthy dose of Milagro's house-made guacamole and hand cut "nachos" - plus a good-sized Margarita - the Tacuba enchilada is intense. It comes swimming in a tomatillo and serrano pepper sauce, filled with chicken and cheese, served with beans and rice on the side. My stomach says stop somewhere between bite three and four but my tastebuds gang up on it until the last bite is gone. I think I now understand what they mean by "the whole enchilada"...

3. The ones I am ashamed to talk about: Taco Bell Bean Burrito
I have said too much already...

4. The "everything I've ever wanted in a burrito" burrito: Halibut Burrito, Burrito Banditos
There are no seats in this tiny fast-food joint but it's better to take these bad boys on the road. Filled with your choice of beans, rice, guacamole, cheese, tomatoes, onion, sour cream, you'll need to walk about 40 blocks to put a dent in the caloric intake you've just inhaled. But this indulgence is oh-so worth it.

5. The ones that don't make me hate myself in the morning: Carly's Baked Quesadillas

Recipe:
2 3oz chicken breast (substitute a fish like halibut if you prefer)
2 tsps Chili powder
2 tsps olive oil
8 low-fat flour tortillas (I use weight watchers wraps)
2 cups low fat cheese, grated
1 bottle Old El Paso taco sauce (not salsa - the taco sauce comes in a small bottle and is available in most grocery stores)
1/4 c. chopped green onion
1/4 cup diced tomatoes
cilantro sprigs (optional)
Cooking spray

Dice chicken, season with chili powder. In a frying plan, saute in oil over medium heat. Remove and reserve. Set oven to broil. Place oven rack on top level. Spray baking sheet with cooking spray. Place two tortillas on the sheet. Sprinkle 1/8 c. of cheese on each tortilla. Place 1/4 of the chicken on each. Sprinkle with some onion and tomatoes. Add more cheese on top. Cover with another tortilla. Lightly spray tops with cooking spray so they don't burn too quickly. Broil until tops start to brown, about 2 minutes. Remove sheet and carefully flip quesadillas so the bottom side browns. Remove once tops are browned and cheese is melted. Repeat with remaining ingredients. Serve with cilantro and taco sauce. Makes four servings.

day dreaming

2011-09-06T13:08:00.000-07:00

so much to love...this inspiration is going to have to fight with my wedding budget. I wonder who will win...

Lets catch up!

2011-08-30T14:24:00.000-07:00

Oh haiiii there. It's me. You're on-again, off-again blogfriend. Lets not get into the gritty details of my extended absence, oui? Suffice to say the truth is always less exciting than the imagination so imagine away! (imagine me on a sailboat in the Mediterranean, big sunglasses and buckets of champagne)

Why don't we start with today. Here's a topic: the benefits of nursing a fat lip and a wounded eyebrow.

Perhaps we should take a few steps back, which I will now do very gingerly from now on. Frankly, every step will be taken with caution from here on in because this past weekend, I fell on my face. I don't mean I flopped, sucked, stank up the joint with a bad comedy routine. I literally fell. On. My. Face. My arms were busy holding very important things so as I tripped up my driveway Saturday evening (or was it early Sunday morning?) the only thing to brace my fall was my right eyebrow and my bottom lip.

Fast forward through the terrifying days to follow where I looked like a gargoyle, the swelling has now gone down but I still can't quite do solid food. Welcome to the soup diet! The hidden benefit of falling on your face is that since I can't eat solid food, my 674th attempt at sticking to a diet has begun a week early. And it's just in time, too.

This weekend is Labour Day, the last long weekend of the summer where tradition dictates that you gorge yourself on all the delights of the warm weather: bottles of chilled prosecco, exotic cheeses and dips, barbequed everything, bottles of chilled Kim Crawford, bowls of ice cream, peach cobblers, berry crumbles, and pitchers of delicious sangria. And then there's dinner...

Luckily, me and my fat lip can hang out, slurping soups and practice saying "no thanks, I'm not hungry..."

Let me tell you a secret, put it in your heart and keep it...

2011-06-28T10:14:00.000-07:00

Those are the first lines of a song I didn't know I knew. Well, clearly I did know it, but for the life of me, could not remember who sang it and how I knew it. Curiouser as it were, the man who fancies himself as somewhat of a musical encyclopedia, my husband-to-be didn't know it either.
So I Googled and boy, oh boy am I ever glad I did!
The song is called Heal the Pain and is from the album, Listen Without Prejudice by the timeless, George Michael. It's a pretty song, not a popular tribute but obviously one that left an impression deep in my grey matter. I immediately downloaded the entire album from iTunes and with it came two solid hours of nostalgia thick enough to knock out a small child. I remember being nine years old, spending hours singing along to that album, wanting so badly to be a supermodel in the ever-sexy Freedom video (Linda, Tatiana, Chris ty, Naomi and Cindy!). As nostalgia often does, it triggered other memories of other pre-teen sing-a-longs. So that night, my dear, sweet husband-to-be got a front-row ticket to 1987 as I dramatically reenacted Carly-esque versions of Lost In Your Eyes and Father Figure. Needless to say for the last week, my collection of late 80s classics including pre-cocaine Whitney, pre-Deborah, Debbie and post-WHAM George has grown exponentially and with it, my hair which thanks to the rain in Toronto, has also gone back to the future. SO RAD!
Just for kicks, speaking of sexy videos, this still might be one of the sexiest videos of all time - Being Boring, Pet Shop Boys.
"She was never bored because she was never boring."
Enjoy!

When is it okay to hug?

2011-06-13T13:14:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I wish I had Ms. Manners as my fairy godmother. Actually, it's more Ms. Appropriate whom I really need to hang with more often. Case in point: I never know when it's appropriate to hug. Take today for instance. I ran into a former colleague with whom I was friendly but never good friends. Since our random meeting took place in a professional environment (in front of my boss), I initially went in for a half-snuggle but catching myself, stuck out my hand for a good ol' profesh handshakehowdoyoudo. The result was a super-awkward half-handshake, half hug where I blathered some frantic words like "oh of course lets hug, it has been so long..." True story.

This kind of thing happens all the time. Being from European descent, despite not having been to Europe until I was almost 30, my pals and I always performed the double kiss. My family and I typically do the double kiss. So when I meet newer friends and we get to the kiss hello phase, I go for the double kiss. Muah, Muah!

Now, do you know what happens when you go for the double but your smooching partner sticks to the single? You sometimes kiss lips. Or eyeballs. Or other parts of their face. Regardless of the exact location of the smooch, it's quite embarrassing. My solution to this conundrum is to play it safe. Now I only go for the single. Let someone else look like they want to make out with me. I'm done!

But unfortunately, it's not that easy with the hug. As much as I'm a double kisser (muah, muah), I'm also a hugger. So how do you avoid going in for the hug and having someone recoil from your embrace?? Is there a tactful way to pull it back once you're mid-way there?

And really, when it comes to profesh situations, is it even appropriate to hug? I ask in earnest. Please help me stop embarrassing myself. xo Carly

Battle of the Bronzers

2011-06-07T10:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I wrote about my crusade against boring, sad fingertips. In my quest to punch out a perfect 10, I popped into my favourite store on earth, Sephora. Now as many of you know, I live in Toronto, a city where winter hides in the summer just long enough to wear skin-exposing outfits, but not necessarily long enough to goldify the pasty whiteness of that skin.

Enter woman's other best friend: the bronzer. As overwhelmed and panic-stricken I was to make a colour selection at the nail spa, making the wrong choice when it comes to a bronzer can be a costly mistake - and I don't just mean in dollars. One false move and you can go from the walking dead to Adam-Lambert-meets-Oompa-Loompa. (Orange and glitter make for an evil concoction)

The key that I have found to a great overall natural bronzed look is a combination of textures and colours. Over the years I've tried various products ranging in price and functionality. Here are three that I will keep in my stable of summer staples:

BEST FOR FACE: Revlon ColourStay Mineral Bronzer
This product actually does what it supposed to: Stays all day. It has a nice soft matte finish with very subtle shimmer. No big sparkles, sorry Avril. Great for an all-over, nicely blended sun-kissed look. And priced under $15, it's a fantastic deal for the quality and quantity.

BEST FOR BODY: Sephora Tinted Self-Tanning Bod y Mist
I just bought this yesterday and I think I'm in love. Fine, I'm not in love per se but my legs might be. This is a body mist that is tinted in a nice shade of bronze that is simple to apply and (so far) has lasted more than 7 hours without wearing off. Unlike other body sprays end up so matte you look like you are wearing very ugly flesh-coloured pants (nothing subtle about that), this formula is moisturizing and has just a hint of sheen while giving a gorgeous natural-looking tan. Its scent is slightly overpowering at first but luckily it wears off quickly and you're left with colour that would have 1970's era Bo Derek awarding you a 10. Also priced right, Canadian girls can pick up a bottle for around $17 at their local Sephora.

BEST FOR AU NATURAL: NARS Illuminator in Laguna
I love NARS products. Always have. Always will. I fell in love more than 10 years ago when I was interning at FLARE Magazine. I had just wrapped up my eight-month stint as a copy editing intern and my farewell gift was a raid of the beauty closet. This is where I first decided it was okay to work for make up instead of money. This is also where I first met NARS - it was a foundation. It was for very dark skin. I used it as a bronzer. Now, I'm grown up and so is NARS. The Illuminator product line comes in four light-reflecting shades. Designed as a highlighter, it has a little more shimmer than the two products above, but is gorgeously light that you can wear it on its own for a super-fresh glow or dab a little in strategic spots above your cheekbones, bridge of your nose, on your decolletage, even down the front of your legs. To add an extra oomph (not oompa!), apply Laguna and highlight with Copacabana - this is the secret weapon that makes Jennifer Lopez look so radiant. Priced around $38.

my manicure made me sad

2011-06-06T14:06:00.000-07:00

There are a few things that regardless of my income, social status or age will forever be non-negotiable. A bi-weekly manicure is one of those things. Not simply a must-have for aesthetics and hygienic reasons, a manicure typically serves as an inexpensive pick-me-up, one you have heard me refer to as a "manicure-all" for a bad day, what ever the day.
This weekend, I was desperate. Having forgone my bi-weekly ritual due to an imposing and overloaded schedule, my hands needed some serious TLC. As I perused the arrays of fuchsias, reds, corals and plums, I panicked. Overwhelmed with the thought of clashing with my neon pink toes, I opted for what I thought was a comparable sweet baby blush shade to an OPI Bubble Bath or Sweetheart. It was Not. Even. Close.
The shade I selected is clear. I opted for clear. Who ever said, when in doubt, go with clear?? No, clear should only be reserved for top coats and nylon runs... and even then, nylons cost $4, you'd be best to ditch them then dab them with clear polish.
So that, dear reader, is why I am sad. Every time I look at my neatly squared off tips and my finely trimmed cuticles, I am sad.
Thank goodness there is a Sephora en route home. This calls for some mayjah colour intervention. In fact I'm nearly tempted to give those nail prints another chance! Okay, not that desperate but something needs to be done, and done quickly! Means I should probably get a new lipstick for my troubles... and maybe a bronzer too ;)

What's in YOUR makeup bag?

2011-05-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

This weekend, in between trying to duck out of the damn rain, attending a sad excuse for a high school reunion (more later) and first-time wedding dress shopping (much more on that later), I took a long hard look at my bathroom counter, in particular, my make up bag. It was almost like I was looking at it for the first time. This clear plastic case is bursting at the seams. How did all that stuff end up in there?

Truth is, I know exactly how. I love makeup. Have loved makeup since I was a very, very little person. I can still remember the smell of my mother's Lancome red lipstick, blotted on the tissues she kept in her purse, with which she inevitably cleaned my messy face. I even remember the first time I tried mascara. It was Estee Lauder. I was 9.

But now I'm afraid my love has turned to obsession. I'm on makeup overload. The first step to recovery is admittance so here's a list of what is currently in my makeup bag. Please don't judge...

6 blushes in varying shades of pink and coral (Cargo, Nars, Sephora brand, Benefit, MAC, Two Faced)
4 eyeshadow quads in varying shades of browns/plums (2x Lancome, Marcelle, L'Oreal)
4 eyeshadow individual pots (2x MAC, 2x Benefit)
3 bronzers (Two Faced, Revlon, Lancome)
5 lip liners (MAC, 2x Annabelle, 2x Quo)
5 kohl eye liners and 1 liquid liner (Lancome, 3x Annabelle, L'Oreal)
6 lip glosses (2x LipFusion, 2x MAC, Revlon, Victoria's Secret)
one tinted moisturizer, one brightener, 2 concealers, one foundation (Smashbox, Benefit, Tart, Philosophy, L'Oreal)
not to mention blush, eyeshadow, eyebrow, eyeliner brushes, sharpeners, hair elastics, bobby pins, and the odd barrette

I know, right?? Too much?? Do you think the folks at TLC will make a show about people like me? You know, akin to crazies that clip coupons 40 hours a week and end up with a basement full of wall-to-wall croutons...

To make matters worse, this hoard is only what one would find in my every-day makeup bag. There is also an entire makeup drawer (yes, I said drawer) in my bathroom. I can't bear to tell you what you'll find in there... Suffice to say it features a glorious rainbow of Tourquoise, Pink, Coral, Plum, Navy, Red, Brown, Green and Gold and myriad shimmers, mattes, glosses, sticks, stains, creams, powders and minerals. Add to that eyelashes of varying lengths (including ones avec les plumes) and you might not be faulted to wonder if you are indeed staring into the makings of a drag queen or circus performer.

Writing it all down, I am struck feeling somewhere between utterly ashamed and valiantly proud. Problem is, I love this stuff. I love every gleam, shine, shading and shimmer. I love every polish, charcoal, pencil and primer. It's going to take some tough love but I'm going to pare it down - at least the every day - to include only things I actually wear.

I'll post the before and after when I muster up the courage to do the right thing and part with the excess.

But I'm curious - what's in YOUR makeup bag? How often do you purge? How often do you restock? Your secrets are safe with me and the one other person who reads this blog ;)

It's here....

2011-05-10T10:11:00.000-07:00

And so it begins... tomorrow

The date is set...

2011-05-09T16:32:00.000-07:00

In the absence of a firm wedding date, I have at least now booked a date to try on a wedding dress. I only wish Dukan had arrived already. Instead, I'm on a steady no-fun diet. Steady since about 11AM this morning anyhow...

As this will be my first foray into white-dress-ville, I thought I'd try to go in with a fraction of a direction. So what if I don't actually have a venue booked? So what if it's been six months since I got engaged? So what if I'm debating between February and October? Maybe all I need is the dress to push me into decisions.

I have decided to post some inspiration. (note to reader, particularly if reader is my mother: these are inspiration dresses, not final dresses and do not require comment, opinion or thoughts of any kind that are otherwise unsupportive). First up, Portia Di Rossi's stunning Zac Posen Cinderella dress is stunning. Playful, contemporary, sleek - pink perfection!

Up Next: Jessica Simpson's Vera Wang Stephanie lace strapless gown. That dress may have been the only good thing to come from that union.

I'm not a huge fan of hers but Demi Moore wore an incredible Versace to the Oscars last year. Save your questions as to why she was actually at the Oscars because I certainly have no idea. Likely not for her role in Charlie's Angels I'm
sure... Just picture it in white! Le love!

Also fell in love with this Zac Posen 20's throwback when Gwyneth Paltrow wore it to the Oscars in 2007. That was back when she was still an actress and not a pontificating Goop-y mum who only eats things that end in organic and fears a sense of humour. Again, picture it in white... sigh

Finally, a non-celebrity inspirational dress. Whoever this woman is, I want her life. Married in Paris near the Opera in this incredible gown and mouth-watering shrug. I can't actually tell if I love the dress or just want to marry the jacket. Either way, this is the true inspiration for my wedding. Je Suis Tombé Amoureuse!!!

So it's come down to this...

2011-05-04T11:15:00.000-07:00

Another attempt at the dreaded "D" word. This time, it's double D. Say it with me now: Dukan Diet. This is some serious business, people. Have you heard anything about it? The world is reporting that the lady Middletons (mom included) have Doc Dukan to thank for those little middles that were enviously ogled by 2 billion pairs of peepers around the world last week. True story, at least that's what the tweeps say.

Now, while the audience reach of my upcoming nuptials will be slightly fewer than those of the newly appointed Duchess of Cambridge, I will be nonetheless as fanatical about their opinions of everything I select - hair, dress, venue, husband... you understand, oui?

The double D suggests I have a "true" weight that is approximately 17lbs lighter than where I currently sit, albeit on my rather comfy, squishy ass. I truly wonder if I have it in me to do it. I hate diets. I get righteously angry and irritated, miserably deprived. Then I start reading Dove soap-inspired "I am Woman, I love my fat body, it's who you are inside that counts" baloney and fall right back off the hunger wagon into a pile of hamburger-chocolatebar-bottleofwine self indulgence and alas, the cycle begins once more. It's the battle between the "My pants don't fit agony and My pants fit ecstasy."

I, for one, often prefer ecstasy over agony but why is it that you can't have one without the other? In order to experience the happiness I so desire (which is avoiding back crack at all expenses - you know, when girls are squeezed into a dress so tight their back looks like a bum?), one must endure the agony of getting there. How to maintain focus is the question. Do I recite the unbelievably callous but oh-so-apropos Kate Moss quip: "Nothing Tastes as Good As Skinny Feels"? Or do I hide away for the next two months like a hermit just to avoid temptation?

At the very least, I'll have learned a lesson in will power. At very best, my husband-to-be will still want to marry me in spite of the size of my backside and the mood swings coming his way.

No one likes a bully

2011-03-23T12:45:00.000-07:00

He's been stalking me for months. His presence cold enough to chill me to the bone. He casts a dismal shadow over my day and has ruined at least four pairs of boots. And then, just like a bad dream he was gone. In his absence, she arrived. The world looked brighter, there was a song in my step (Pick Up the Phone by Dragonette) and my thoughts danced with visions of adorable new dresses and sunkissed tresses....

But suddenly, a recurring nightmare, he was back. He spat at her with his stone-cold venom and blanketed all surfaces with a dull gray film. Dashed were my hopes of freckles and a tan as the colour drained from my face, lips turning blue and fingertips to ice.
But this is the last time. The last time I reel against the wind; the last time my hair goes frizzy and staticky ice and cold; the last time I brush off the car only to end up with a soggy wet coat; the last time I contemplate Sorrel's and my parka; the last time I pretend-shovel; and the last pair of boots I lose to sick salt stains!

Old Man Winter, I'm talkin' to you! Quit being a bully, and Spring, dear, sweet Spring, man up and grow a pair!

Outta My Way, Thursday!

2011-02-17T11:26:00.000-08:00

I need a break from my life. I really do. It's becoming physically evident. I'm fogged up, fogging tired, want to fog the dog - gah, the very fact that I am using the word "fog" to suggest the word "fu&k" paints a picture! I tapped, zapped, whacked. Even my body is rebelling. Deciding a massage would do me good yesterday, I was saddened to hear that my muscles are "like wood" and not in a good way that would suggest I've been working out... 'cause I haven't... whatever!

Hoping a little R&R&R in Boston will help this weekend. Rest - courtesy of a comfy suite at the Commonwealth Hotel near Boston University. Relaxation - courtesy of a Sunday spa afternoon in the city. And... Retail - courtesy of my wallet and my insatiable need to buy things that I don't need.

Truthfully, I'm more than excited to spend a few days agenda-less, just hanging out in a cool city. I love Boston. If you haven't been, it's worth a visit. It's a city that doesn't intimidate. It's cool without trying. Has great culture and makes it so simple to get up to speed on its incredible history you have no excuse not to learn something. And has amazing shopping, particularly Newbury Street which is lined with boutiques, restos and fab people watching.

Now if Thursday would seriously just hurry up and get out of my way, I'll be that much closer to fine...

Oh and P.S. re: my last post: I did buy the dress... and I LOVE it so much the cost per wear is irrelevant! (It's the long-sleeved lovely!) xo

To buy or not to buy, that is (always) the question

2011-02-09T11:04:00.000-08:00

I've just discovered my new favourite designer: Milly. It's not often when a line sweeps me off my feet but this season's Kennedy's-Gone-Sailing-in-the-late-7os is too cute for words! Take a peek at the line and I'm sure we'll start fighting over who gets to buy what very soon.

Now, speaking of buying, when the term "cost per wear" comes to mind when contemplating a purchase, you know there's not a sale sign in sight. But when one is still thinking about said purchase nearly four days in a row since falling in love at first sight, calculating "cost per wear" seems rather efficient and responsible, if you ask me!

Ok, for argument's sake, lets say a really pretty, day-to-night, great-for-work-and-afternoon-cocktail, spring-to-summer, perfect-fit, colour-blocked, long-sleeved shift is $500 (just throwing out a number). If I wear that darling even just five times, it becomes a $100 dress, see? And, since it's February and there are at least six months I could wear said frock (even once/month), the cost drops even lower...

See gals, sometimes math can be fun! Sometimes using the cost-per-wear calculator means that purchases are actually free! Take, for example, my Hunter Wellies - avg price: $200. Have worn them at least 30 times since purchase, which puts them around $6. And, since the rainy season hasn't even begun yet, these adorable high-heeled rainbooties will soon be free or even cost negative dollars!

Well, I'm convinced! And excited for a new dress!

Cease and desist: foot in mouth

2011-02-08T14:21:00.000-08:00

Hello foot, meet mouth. Oh, you know each other? Ah yes, you know each other quite well. Frankly, I'm not liking the nature of your relationship. It's becoming rather inappropriate to be seen together so often, particularly under the circumstances. A couple of quick reminders so we can continue our collective working relationship:
1) it's Sherry, not Shelly
2) that brand is owned by their competitors, not the people buying your expensive lunch
3) to be gracious is not the same as to have grace
4) Lil' John and Lil' Wayne are not the same person
5) not everyone wants to hear your story, particularly the CMO, no matter how interesting you think you are
6) stop talking the minute your brain says "stop talking" - seriously, even if it's mid-sentence. It's better than what you're about to say...
Embarrassed makes me look fat.

New Review: OPI for Sephora - Chic Print for Nails

2011-02-07T14:13:00.000-08:00

In effort to add some youthful pizazz to my already SAD-affected February, I went on a mission to try the latest in nail trends: the nail print. Loving the look as seen in the pages of high fashion mags and US Weekly alike, I hit a few different Shoppers Drug Mart's but to no avail. Either they don't yet carry or I'm utterly behind the hipster chicks who beat me to the punch (fists closing on the cutest nails around, I bet). I finally settled in at Sephora and a set of 16 magenta and silver diamond patterned $20 nail prints. I couldn't WAIT to try them! And then I did... Here's hoping I save you $20.

The claim: "A breakthrough array of precut nail patches for extraordinary nails, instantly!"

What else you need to know: "One set of Chic Print for Nails contains 16 nail patches of varying widths, for a one-time application to fingers or toes. The nail patch is a solid-film material with an adhesive back that is activated by friction. The warmth from friction creates conformability, allowing the patch to fit over the compound curves of your nails and seal onto the nail bed. The patent-pending material removes easily by rubbing and peeling off."

What really happened: Not only did I look like I was wearing wrapping paper on my fingertips, the precut nail patches are really big, you need to cut them to size, which you would think would be simple, but sadly not. First was still too big, second way to small. Third bubbled and wouldn't get smooth on my finger once I got the size down and the fourth wouldn't stick at all... AND these bad boys only last 1-2 days.

The Verdict: Clearly teenagers have more time than I do. Too much work for not enough result. Pass on the print and save your $20 for a proper mani.

Fast Forward

2010-10-18T15:05:00.000-07:00

Yes, shall we? Forgive me readers for I have sinned. It has been nearly four months since my last blog session... and there have been many sins, wins, dins and even a few gins...
Okay - here are the last few months in fast forward:

Eight weekends spent at the cottage in the new cabin (so long one-bathroom shared between four-six people through paper-thin walls! helloooo personal space - a blessing for all parties involved!);
Four days spent impersonating a celebrity soaking up the sunshine in champagne-induced giddyness in Monte Carlo courtesy of lil' sis's amazing employer;
Two days in Paris playing frantic-tour-guide-on-a-masochistic-mission-to-do-most-on-foot "'cause it's the best way to see the sites!" All this while lil' sis feigned excitement at my deep knowledge of Rue De L'Arbre (where I stayed two years ago when I tried to blend in as a local);
One wedding - to end all weddings
One 32nd birthday (egads it was mine!);
Two pregnancy announcements (egads, not mine!)
XXXX glasses of wine, champagne, wine, champagne, wine...(to shcelebraaate the shchummer! whahoo!)
One 30th Birthday - lil' sis
and finally the last engagement is mine... no literally, it was my engagement!

That brings us to around nowish... After four years of wondering if he was the one, deciding he was the one, doubting he was the one and thanking my lucky stars he IS the one, it's official. I'm a crazy bride-to-be who hasn't changed any of the bad habits she swore she would "as soon as he pops the question." I'm talking about eating bad food, complaining about our house, not going to the gym, drinks during the week, driving to work... still doing all of it.
Which, as you may have guessed you smart little thing, is the reason I am writing again. The moment this gets posted, it's on the record and I'm accountable for all the things I say I'm going to do.
So here it is, My Oath to Myself:
I solemnly swear that from this moment on, pizza is no longer legal substance. Cheeseburgers, hamburgers, homeburgers and their French sidekicks, are on the No-Fly list unless accompanied by a Weight Watchers green light. Prohibition Sunday through Thursday just kicked in. (That goes for you too Prosecco. Save me the story about your bubbly lightness!) I will refuse to attend any and all birthday parties where Cake is invited, that bitch. I will go to the gym, walk home from work (at least twice a week), embrace the veggie bar and every time I reach to grab a roll during dinner, I give permission to anyone in my company to reach and grab one of mine.
This is my vow, Until the wedding!

summer, how i've missed you

2010-05-10T12:54:00.000-07:00

Okay so I have basically all but skipped over winter/spring 2010 and mostly because nothing good comes of winter/spring unless you're everyone else but me. Congratulations to all the lucky ducks who: got engaged, got married, had a baby, had two babies, had someone tell you you were having a baby or two babies, had a baby birthday, bought a house, bought a car, got a new job, went back to a job, quit a job, took vacation, planned a vacation etc. etc. etc... All fantastically lovely things to happen to people... just not to me.

Alas, after an eternity of winter/spring 2010, summer is finally HERE! Now, some of you may argue that summer in Canada is still months away but I beg to differ. And here's Carly's top ten reasons why:

I left the office last week after 7PM and it was still sunny - when it wasn't raining

I wore a dress without stockings last week (albeit my legs looked straight out of Twilight and I wore closed-toed shoes but haven't had a tan or a pedicure since before Jack F-ing Frost messed with my happiness back in October 2009)

I am going for a pedicure tonight and plan to wear open-toed shoes tomorrow...yep, to work and no, will not be wearing stockings
I've already had dinner and drinks on the back patio at Caren's Wine Bar - a summer staple for delicious vino and a must-do if in Toronto even for just one drink!
I spent a weekend at the cottage and didn't have to hover around the hot stove wrapped in various animal pelts
Anxiety levels are at an all-time high with the realization I'll be forced to break up with those ten cushy pounds I've snuggled up to all of these long, cold winter months... we've gotten so close, it's hard to say goodbye - no really, it's hard...

I'm not wearing all black, all grey, light grey, dark grey, grey with black, black with navy, navy with grey... in fact, I am wearing a top that has a colour in it that I'm pretty sure qualifies as neon pink, no joke

I'm giving up on my au natural brunette phase in favour of some warm highlights - conveniently those lighter strands will serve double duty to cover the obnoxious silver sprouts

I have a little pot of herbs sitting on my balcony that haven't shrivelled up from frost bite (or lack of watering... mental note to do that tonight!)

All I want to do is shop for cute, bright, short, floral, checked, striped, solid, colourful, shoes, tops, bottoms, dresses, hats, shoes, sunglasses, lipsticks, bracelets, earrings, shoes and... shoes

Think it's going to be a hot summer and I mean that in the most literal and figurative of ways. How do you know when summer has arrived?

ohai! remember me

2010-03-30T10:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've been MIA and yes it was negligent and no I don't have a super-fantastical story/excuse like being glamourously whisked off to add my creative input on Marc Jacobs' Fall/Winter 2010 line in Milan AND Paris or being pulled from my PR gig in Toronto to provide crisis communications to Sandi Bullock in her L.A. hideaway. Alas, I've simply been uninspired and in a word, grouchy.

Naturally, it could just be me, but lets be honest, it's far more fun to blame others for this, my most recent plunge into rutsville. Today, I'm blaming my hairdresser. Remember a few weeks back when I decided to become a new woman and undergo a dramatic transformation? And that resulted in going from a blondie to a brownie? Well I'm still a brownie...mostly... save for those arrogant, uninvited, multiplying-like-bunnies silver threads I keep spotting at my crown as they rise in all their wiry glory toward the light of day. And every morning, there are more of those little a$$holes lying against what I once considered a beautifully rich chocolate. They are so out of place that they may as well be neon flashing lights. I knew they were there before but my light, golden locks artfully disguised the pests, blending in with the pale strands so nicely, I actually convinced myself I was sprouting naturally blond hair. Now I there is no denying it in blissful ignorance. I am going grey and my hairdresser is to blame because she should have noticed and warned me that this would happen! My guess is that she did and she also knew that I would be miserable and have to make another appointment to go back to the glory days of honey and sunshine and that would mean we're back to four-hour and $$$$ investments every six weeks... well played miss, well played...

in short

2010-03-12T14:30:00.001-08:00

My life is not my own these days, hence the absence of regular updates within an acceptable amount of time. Where have two weeks gone? To the universe, I say, along with my last paycheque, that missing sock and a few of my dresses... actually, those went to my sister's closet and are overdue back to their home (hear that, sis? Gimme)

In spite of my lack of time this/last week, I did come across my next birthday present, s'il vous plait. The new Paloma's Dove pendant from the Paloma Picasso collection at Tiffany's has me blushing. There is just something about birds and jewelry that makes me giddy and this sweet, petite charm hits the note. I can't find an image to upload but visit the link and swoon for yourself!

I've also got my eye on a gorgeous enameled bird ring from BCBG but I can't find evidence of it anywhere online and I've tossed my catalogue, for shame. Any gals with the latest BCBG accessories catalogue, please write me... or just buy it for me! :)

home, home on the brain...

2010-03-03T14:38:00.001-08:00

I want to buy a house. I think I'm nearing the time in my life to actually own something other than shoes and 15 extra pounds. Self-admittedly, I tend to look at home ownership through a narrow lens, one that all but blocks the vantage point of having to pay for everything that breaks, having to mow the lawn and landscape the garden and having to clean more than three rooms...(anyone know a good cleaning lady looking for work in six-eight months?)

What excites me most about home ownership is Candice Olson. Not to be confused with Anna Olson, the Ontario Sugar-chef whom I also adore, Candice Olson is my favourite of the Canadian-produced W Network Experts. She hosts a show that I feel has been on for decades (which for Canadian television is a feat in and of itself!) The show is called Divine Design and let me just say on the record that this gal takes me to God when she finishes a room. In my next life, I want creative eyes that can look at an average space and create a miracle. Until then, I'll push for a big raise to maybe afford to pay Candice to decorate my new house. OR, if I'm super-duper lucky, I'll find a house that's already got her stamp! Hopefully one of these below...

my mom says I'm a winner

2010-02-24T15:26:00.001-08:00

My boyfriend could have dated an Olympian. Not just any Olympian. A Canadian Gold Medal Olympian. As we watched the medal ceremony at the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Games, one eye was on the pretty young thing accepting her medal with the stoicism best served only by a Canadian, while my other eye watched as my guy grinned, recounting a once-upon-a-time when he had met Ms. Gold Medal and she had taken quite a fancy to him.

While I am often self-depracating and poke fun at myself in many a situation, hopelessly self-conscious I am not... well not really, anyway. But I can say I may have preferred to file this one away under "things your partner never need know." Now, I'm not going to get all bent out of shape on this. She may have "won" gold for her country but I prefer not to "compete" for glory. Besides, where can you actually wear that medal? That kind of accessory is some mayjah overkill on an LBD, non?

I will now accept my medal for bitterness and snarkery. Insert bitchy smile and pageant wave here and pass me a double scoop of Gold Medal Ribbon stat!

more things sweet

2010-02-23T12:30:00.000-08:00

Cake decorating has become a hot and scrumptious hobby amongst many in my extended Facebook friend group and I am obsessed. I think I have always been crazy about cake. There is nothing better in the world to me than digging into a fresh square of grocery-store-bought vanilla birthday cake, covered in sugary-smooth icing - corner piece to ensure maximum icing!

My obsession with cakes often finds me alone at home, salivating while watching TLC sweet shows like Cake Boss and the Ultimate Cake Off and reading tasty blogs like the incredible Amy Atlas and Bakerella.

While I dream of one day rolling out large sheets of fondant and painting edible damasks on 8-inch rounds, I am fascinated by this incredible find today at http://ticings.com/

Edible icing paper! Incredible and probably nowhere near a new idea but certainly new to me. Okay so for sure they're not new - think back to the novelty days of photo cakes (neat-o!), but these designs are rather lovely. The sheets are made of water, cornstarch and corn syrup and are available in a variety of patterns and sizes. They have no noticeable taste (says the website) and take on the flavour of your cake, brownie or cookie. Ticings "easily peel and press onto your frosted dessert. even a child can apply them to frosted cupcakes" (lucky for me and my child-like wonder) and sadly, they are only available for purchase in the U.S. Opportunity for a Canadian contemporary counterpart? I say yes!

I particularly crush on the Team Jacob/Team Edward/Bite Me sheets... mmm Twilight, is there no one you can't touch?

on my owwwwn

2010-02-17T14:32:00.000-08:00

For the first time since I can remember, I will be on my own for a few days. My handsome bf has left me to ski the back bowls of Keystone, in Colorado. Normally, I would pout and sulk being stuck working in Toronto while he's out enjoying life without me but I was mature enough to realize a wasted trip when I saw one. When did I get so grown up?

See, as my last post may have suggested, I don't ski well. I didn't ski as a child, didn't really like the cold and neither my family nor most of my friends so much as neared a pair of poles - at least not ski poles anyway...

So, as a very mature girlfriend, I waved goodbye to my guy this morning and headed off to work as an independent five-day singleton, ready to conquer the world. But now I am hungry. As lame as it sounds, I don't know how to cook for one. I'm racking my brain picturing the sad state of my apartment-sized fridge and wondering if it's worth actually going to the trouble of making something to eat or picking up something forbidden on my way home.

How do you amazing independent gals do it? I feel crippled by my habits of cooking for two. I'd love some ideas for great meals for one that don't involve a can of tuna, can of soup or frankly, a can of anything. Help!! What I'd really like is something from eatpretty (above) or my bestie gal Marisa's delicious brown rice, scallops and shrimp stirfry (right) to arrive on my doorstep. If anyone feels sorry for me, come visit - and bring food.

wow Carly, you've changed

2010-02-16T10:14:00.000-08:00

Indeed I have changed. As of last Friday, I am an entirely new person. I am now a brunette.

While you may wonder the significance of such a statement, let me explain. In my courageous youth, I experimented with cuts and colours, often going from a flaming halo of red waves to a split personality of a black sheath with bleached blond tips - at the same time. Pretty sure it was big in Japan. Big chunks of high- and low-lights, bangs and bobs, I can honestly say I was reasonably fearless when it came to changing my crowning glory.

And then one day I realized I was an adult. I had a big girl job with big girl clients and big girl responsibilities to set a good example for the little girls with big chunks of high- and low-lights and edgy bangs in the office. So, after weighing the options of red, brown and black, I went as natural a blond shade as a naturally brown-haired girl can go. That was five years ago and with the exception of a moment where my poor hair needed a break for fear it actually would break off, I have maintained a light-haired, long-with-layers, light-hearted approach to life. Which brings us to the present.

I am now a brunette. And a fairly dark brunette at that. It's been about four days since the shade went down and I'm still a little identity-lost when I look in the mirror. On the upside, no one recognizes me, meaning I can go out of my house and go about my business without having random fans stop me in the streets to chat and ask me for an autograph. Okay, so maybe that doesn't really happen, but I have noticed that colleagues have passed me by, only stopping after a double and triple take to make sure it is actually me.

I am also realizing that being a brunette has given me the chance to change not only physically, but emotionally. For instance, I managed to ski for an entire hour and a bit this weekend and NOT cry or have a meltdown at the top of the slope. I ALWAYS cry and melt down at the top of the slope. But now I am brunette and puh-leeze, we don't cry in public. As well, I've been lacking the will-power of any sort to say no to treats and snacks that are contributing to my growing backside. But Carly-with-the-brown-hair is so much tougher! I haven't given up anything for Lent in 20 years but as of tomorrow, Carly-with-the-brown-hair is off the sweets. Done and done.

This may be the official start of my new year (read back entries to see what I mean). I think I am actually ready to kick off 2010 and have the confidence to move forward from 2009. With that, me and my brown hair wish you Happy New Year! (Until the summer highlights resurface in six to ten weeks).

a picture says a thousand (swear) words

2010-02-09T08:53:00.000-08:00

This is how today feels. The long weekend, for those of us lucky to live in the parts of Canada that observe Family Day, couldn't come sooner. Only 3600 minutes to go...

Family Day also happens to fall on Valentine's Day weekend. Despite my "in a relationship" status, I'm not one for gooey forced romance in crowded, overpriced restaurants with sub-par prix fixe menus where the theme is always "pour deux." Frankly, I prefer not to have to share a meal, s'il vous plait and moreover prefer not to share my meals with a room full of dining couples, most of whom don't really like each other on a good day and actively perform extended small-talk with waitstaff just to have someone else to talk to. Look around next time you're at a V-day dinner and I promise you'll see what I mean.

xoxo Cranky Gossip Girl

more friendly talents

2010-02-04T06:40:00.000-08:00

I may not have little bambinis yet, but some day when I do, they will surely spend their first years in Babibu! Pronounced "baby-Boo" this cute and cozy, hand-made-in-Canada line is the brainchild of my dearest friend, Sarah Lopez and her amazing mother-in-law, Beatriz, affectionately known as B-Lo. But beyond offering stylish, gender-neutral lounge wear that Auntie Carly secretly hopes will one day come in her size, Babibu is also green. From the Karate Pant to the Large & Stretchy Swaddling Blanket to the Beanie and Bib, this line is made from 100% bamboo which not only is uber-soft for baby's sensitive skin but also:

naturally blocks the growth of bacteria and therefore does not require the use of harmful chemicals and pesticides during its growth process

is an extremely sustainable and renewable resource and can grow up to 4 feet in just 1 day
is also 100% biodegradable

Sarah, who is the mother of the most handsome 10-month-old baby boy, has always had a penchant for style, which is evident from the way she hangs a framed picture to the way she accessorizes a pair of jeans and her line of baby clothing is no exception. Wishing Sarah and B-Lo so much success although by the sounds of things, they won't need it!

Pretty-Inspired

2010-02-03T14:36:00.000-08:00

It's nice to be able to count a variety of great talents amongst friends and none is more talented both behind and in front of the lens than Justyna Sokolowski. And today, she has opened the aperture with a portfolio that makes me giddy. In my next life, I want to come back as me only better - the Carly shot through a Canon lens focused by a dreamer. http://www.justynasokolowski.blogspot.com/

yourself in retrospect

2010-02-02T07:18:00.000-08:00

It's easy to forget what you were actually like as a kid. The person I am now as an early-30-something is a dramatically far cry from who I was even in my late 20s. I generally have great memories of high school and of the good ol' nursery school days, however my nostalgia often skips over the ages of 8 and 14 when I was most awkward, uncomfortable and freakishly boy-crazy and painfully shy.

As with most things you try ever so hard to forget (like the half round of brie I ate last night after dinner), it would appear that nothing truly disappears from the record books. Especially when your 11-year-old-self kept a record.

Yes folks, in her quest to rid all evidence of my sister and I ever having inhabited her home, this last weekend, my mother handed each of us a bag of 1988-1992 splendour! In these surprisingly light bags were not only drawings, artwork and old birthday/communion/holiday cards, but a couple of journals documenting what can only be described as my Joey McIntyre years, when I wrote words like Yo! and Flower Power in bubble letters. Of course, my mom read them ("only a little") and so did I. And I am still giggling.

I was in LOVE. With a boy. Who shall remain forever nameless to protect his reputation. He looked at me one day and that was enough for me to start planning our wedding. This was just around the age where I started to look a little less like the chubby DJ Tanner from early Full House episodes and more like the teenaged DJ Tanner, but with brown hair and a Raiders jacket (true story).

Back to the love. I wrote pages and pages about this love in a pink school workbook and covered my writing with pink lipstick kisses to seal the words that read: "Today, BOY came into my class and looked at me, I thought I would die" or "I am SOOOOOOO in LOVE!" or "We danced so close I could hear his heartbeat." I even documented a full conversation I wasn't even privvy to in script format:
Friend: Hey, can I get your school picture?
Boy: Why?
Friend: A friend wants it
Boy: Who, Carly?
Friend: No, I can't tell you
Boy: Then I won't give it to you
Friend: Ok it's for Carly
Boy: (smiles) Ok, I'll bring it tomorrow

You get it, I was CRAZY about this boy. But he moved away and I was too shy and dorky to talk to him pretty much ever except for a five minute recess chat where I was so nervous I nearly hurled or when our teachers, who were also aware of my crush, made us dance together on a school trip, and I was so nervous I nearly hurled.

Here I am 20 years later and incredibly, through the mighty powers of Facebook, I can look up my old crush to see how he turned out. I'm pretty sure them legal folk call this type of activity stalking but in my case, I'm calling research... for my blog... that no one reads. Truth is, I would have never recognized him if we met again in person. And, while my 11/12-year-old self would be mortified at the thought of someone reading her private thoughts, I'm really glad I kept notes.

I also kept the picture...

Pretty/Sweet

2010-02-02T06:58:00.000-08:00

Amy Atlas, I worship thee! When I die, my heaven will be filled with Amy Atlas sweet tables. Here, she's done it again with a Valentine's Day delivery that has captured my heart! If you haven't yet feasted your eyes upon the candy-coated creativity that is Amy Atlas, you must! Now http://amyatlas.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-dessert-table.html

a manicure-all

2010-01-28T14:26:00.001-08:00

It would appear I am having a bit of a week where I have lost count of the days, track of the hours and a general film has settled over my brain. I need a pick-me-up and fast and since I can't get to my salon to address my roots - can you still call them roots when they are nearly half the length of your hair? - a manicure should do the trick. Debating between a dark purply , sexy, vampish hue or an innocently pink, demure, virginal paint. I'm straddling both worlds which makes me quite boring and uncommitted.

Decisions, decisions...

P.S. I opted for Siberian Nights, a nearly-black shade of purple, which elicited "Oh dear, Carly - BLACK nail polish? How interesting." from my boyfriend's mother, who is just too adorably sweet. Maybe I'll buy her a bottle on my next round!

things I learned: Tuesday

2010-01-26T08:24:00.001-08:00

It's Tuesday again and that means it's time to share things I learned today. Truth be told, some of these things I learned on Friday, Saturday and Sunday but lets just pretend I learned them all today, okay?

Today I learned that:
- Sometimes the critics are right. Even with mayjah star-power like Kidman, Cruz, Day-Lewis, Dench, Nine was a 4 at best (source: Me)
- I also learned that a small movie popcorn without butter at Cineplex-Odeon theatres actually isn't as bad for you as I thought. A small (55 gram) bag of popcorn brings in a modest 275 calories and just 0.2 grams of saturated fat (source: National Post) This is good for me because that is what I am having for dinner if I can get out of the office in time to make it to the 9:30pm movie.

And the award for the creepiest fact of the day goes to this one:
Frozen lobsters can come back to life when thawed. (source: Sweet Spot Sweet Fix) Wonder if it will work for Walt Disney - anyone know when he's expected to be thawed?

TGIFF

2010-01-22T13:05:00.000-08:00

That stands for Thank God it's (F-ing) Friday. This week has kicked my ass between work, after work and after-work-work. Weekly routine is as follows: wake up, press snooze, wake up, press snooze again, wake up turn alarm off, shower, makeup, dress and work, meetings, put out fires, after work meeting/social/event, followed by a little TV, wash face, pj's, read book, go to bed. Repeat x5. There's got to be a better way but I can't seem to get out of this routine that leaves me utterly wiped by the time the weekend rolls around.

I am aware of the fact that it is now nearing the end of January and I have yet to go an entire week without driving to work in spite of the fact that I live a mere four (good shopping) blocks from the office. I've also driven each time with my gym bag conveniently located in the back seat of my car but every morning convince myself it looks so cozy nestled on the floor behind my seat that I would hate to disturb it. Did I mention there is a gym on the second floor of my office that is basically free? For shame.

Next week, a new regime? More time for me? Take more control? That may be a stretch, but admitting you have a problem is the first step in the road to recovery, non? As if I had somehow telepathically sent my SOS, my dearest girlfriend Marisa sent a note expressing the same sentiments and our collective desperate need for some "me/us" time and what better place to do just that than in the hydratherapy pools at the Scandinave in Collingwood, Ontario? Girlfriends always know what you need! So do sisters and tonight, mine is joining me for a girly dinner and movie.

See, this is why TGIF-ingF!

I never did get an Easy-Bake Oven

2010-01-20T14:36:00.000-08:00

For a kid who sure loved to eat (and eat, and eat), I can only imagine it was my mother's proactive, outside-voice worrying that ensured her chubby little girl would never get her hungry little hands on an Easy-Bake Oven. Surely, those little cakes wouldn't have stood a chance against my need to feed as a stout little five-year-old. So that may explain why my eyes nearly welled up when I saw this today on Twitter (thx to @Skripper)! Yes, if you're on the same wavelength then you must be thinking the same thing: An Easy-Bake Oven for Adults! In just five minutes, this magical dream-maker whips up seven sweet little cupcakes. Seven in five! That's my kind of math. And, since they're bite size, you can eat all seven and it's basically like eating one regular cupcake.

God Bless America.

things I learned: Tuesday

2010-01-19T13:52:00.001-08:00

I think this may become a recurring theme on the blog that only just two weeks ago proclaimed it would promise no themes. But I do think it's important not only to learn something new, but to share said new-found knowledge with total strangers. So here goes.

Today, I learned that:
- coffee is the number one source of antioxidants in a North American diet (source The Rebel Diet by Melissa Hershberg)
- the street lamps in Hershey, Pennsylvania are shaped like Hershey's Kisses (source: SweetSpot sweet fix)
- former president George W. Bush and Hugh Hefner are cousins (source: Sweet Spot sweet fix)
- my entire family is "impatient" for me to get married (source: my mother)
- the new Orange Blossom tea at Starbucks taste suspiciously like ass and nothing like the old yummy tea (source: Me)

Oh, and lastly, if you eat two cups of Mini-Wheats dry and then drink water, you may actually burst. No... not really.

are fanny pack's back?

2010-01-15T10:51:00.000-08:00

I saw this post today on new blog-crush jomygoodness and I might have to agree - these waist purses (fanny-packs in disguise!) by Kinnies are kind of sweet. While I am not certain I need any more ruffle near my derriere, I admire a stylish new take on an out-of-style idea.

Audrey makes me Hopeful

2010-01-14T14:49:00.000-08:00

I was reminded today of one of my favourite quotes of all time, which is by Audrey Hepburn. Now there is some debate as to whether or not she wrote or merely quoted it, but for argument's sake, I like to read it imagining her saying it. Audrey makes me hopeful.

"For Attractive lips, speak words of kindness, For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people, For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry, For Beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day, For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone. People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others."

A very wise woman. She also said "Nothing is impossible, the word itself says 'I'm possible'!"; "There are certain shades of limelight that can wreck a girl's complexion"; and my ultimate life credo "Paris is always a good idea."

Cheers to Audrey and to wishing you a happy and hopeful Thursday

site interruptus

2010-01-13T11:19:00.001-08:00

As you may have noticed (yes you, my lone reader), I can't quite manage to get the font consistent on this site. As I am not planning on doing anything about it, I'm not certain why I felt the need to share other than I had the urge for YOU to know that I also know.

Phew... that took a load off my shoulders!

Wicked Good Arrival!

2010-01-12T10:30:00.000-08:00

Hurrah! They arrived! My cozy, L.L. Bean Wicked Good Moccasins landed on my desk today and they are every bit as cozy as I had imagined. I wish I could wear them right now, alas I am on duty for an evening event where these snuggly slippers are not on the guest list.

resolutions continued

2010-01-11T14:38:00.000-08:00

This post was originally going to be titled a wine-ing weekend but then I realized that was lame.Spent the weekend in the always-pretty town Niagara-on-the-Lake in celebration of a dear friend's birthday. In our vast imbibing experience, we have come to know that five couples can consume a frightening lot of drink in a very short period of time, which is why Mrs. Birthday Boy, the clever gal she is, suggested no DD's would be required on what would be an ambitious five-winery tour Saturday afternoon. Instead, ten winos packed into a white stretch SUV limousine and headed to Beamsville to tour the likes of Fielding Estates, Tawse, Thirty Bench and No. 99 Estates Winery.

By the end of the tour, we were rosy-cheeked and giddy and definitely over-shared with our sommelier at our last stop about the previous night's antics, which had included a series of vigorous, physical challenges and gluttonous over-eating by a load of optimists with not one empty glass in site the entire night. A big thank you to Mr. & Mrs. Birthday Boy, Katie and Mark, for being Divine hosts as always.

Based on the above, here are a few things I learned this weekend:

2007 was a great year for Ontario wines (but Ontario reds still taste like swill no matter how pretty the label)
You can buy an oak barrel (French oak, even) should you have the need for one for about $60, which sounds like a deal until you try to get it in your car
Planning a weekend with a teacher will almost always feature "activities" that I don't win
and Games that are called cornhole and swingin' dick require stretching before playing

I also learned that it is best to start your diet on a Monday after a really big weekend so it takes your body a few extra days to realize that you actually did throw away all the junk food in the house. No cause for panic, though as I consumed enough nachos and beer this weekend to keep me full until at least Thursday. Hope I don't run into you then. Probably best to carry some candy in your pocket in case you do run into me. I'm sorry in advance.

mad for macarons

2010-01-08T07:59:00.001-08:00

It was a little over a year ago I spent ten glorious days in Paris. We rented a flat on the third floor of an apartment on Rue L'Arbre Sec in the 1st Arrondissement. We traversed the city on foot, exploring the cultural and culinary delights that have made the Paris famous for centuries. And it was in Paris that my obsession with les Macarons first, albeit fittingly, began.

One of most most exquisite of tourist destinations in Paris is Laduree. Laduree is like being Alice but instead of waking up in Wonderland, you wake up inside a Faberge egg and every gilded creation is made of colourful sugar. And then there are the actual Macarons. Arguably the most famous Macarons in the world, these petite, delicate clouds are too refined to be called just cookies and the presentation of rows on rows of pastel colours and perfect packaging literally takes my breath away.

And this week, I was inspired again by one of my favourite blogs is Sweet Designs, by Amy Atlas. As her profile says, NY-based Amy is an event planner specializing in high end dessert tables. My heaven is made up of a series of Amy Atlas dessert tables. This week, she made me a fan for life when she featured her take on Macarons and Laduree. Take a look and check out some of her other designs on her web site amyatlas.c om. Oh, and be sure to eat before you read. This site is guaranteed to leave you salivating!

a nerd at <3

2010-01-06T14:08:00.000-08:00

In my former life as a PR agency gal, I spent most of my time with technology clients. This, in part due to my former former life as a technology reporter, eventually made me decently-versed in gadgets, gizmos, apps and tools. Decently-versed is a far cry from decently-practiced - I can tell you why you should hook up your HDMI cables to your HD TV but don't ask me how to do it...ever.

What brings me to this reflection on all things geek today is that it's January 6th and CES officially jumps out of its Star Wars cake tomorrow. The Consumer Electronics Show is the annual trade show that brings together more than 100,000 people from all parts of the globe to Las Vegas who spend the week traversing more than one million square feet (yes, one MILLION) of show floor space, bearing witness to the future of personal technology, talking fridges and housekeeping robots a certainty. It even brings in more people than the porn show, conveniently held about a week later in the same spot - true story.

Having spent time as the PR rep for a major international technology brand, I attended a few CESes and I gotta say, I kinda miss the buzz of big brainpower. Slightly less do I miss the Jersey Shore sales jerks who puff out their chests while ogling the assets of giggling booth babes, but it is Vegas after all and what happens in Vegas, yada yada yada...

Maybe it's just that... Vegas. The only place on earth you can order a turkey club on a waffle from room service at 4:30AM and it's not only acceptable, it's expected. If all the world is a stage, Vegas is where they design the sets.

I don't think I'll go back anytime soon, though. There are myriad destinations on my bucket list before I hit the reruns. Instead I'll observe with slight longing from afar. Maybe I'll make waffles for dinner...

In short

2010-01-05T10:43:00.000-08:00

I am really bad at commitment. Okay wait, that didn't sound right. Let me be clear, I am the most loyal girlfriend, dedicated friend, sister, daughter, niece, boss, etc. But when it comes to follow through on personal goals I set, I'm more of a waffler.

Lets take this blog for example: I debated an entry today. Seriously. Two posts in and I already made excuses for why I was too busy, too tired, too uninterested (more like uninteresting) too late, too whatever to write.

So here I am. Blaming lack of inspiration in part on the overwhelming coverage of the Google Nexus on Twitter (oh CES, I still carry a torch for your nerdy Vegas love) rather than the tweets I so enjoy like 140-character recipes from Every Day Food and the wedding DIY amazement that is StyleMePretty. Normally I am DI WHY?? but I am in lust with this site. (don't mention to my boyf... key message: I'm looking for a friend).

Another full day over and a full evening begins with the Canadian World Juniors. I realize this will now be the second time I mention the World Junior Hockey championships in as many days and I feel the urgent need to caveat the rest of this thought with the following context: I don't watch hockey. I never watch hockey. I don't own a pair of skates, wasn't a puck bunny in high school (or there afterward, no judgement) and surely will not be a hockey mom when the time comes and now it's in writing. But something happens when the Juniors play. My bf will say it's because of 15-year-old superstar Taylor Hall, who is indeed dreamy, but that would make me a total perv/cougar, or would that be a cougert? The truth? The World Junior Hockey championships allow me the unabashed privilege of the excuse to fill my face with forbidden delicacies like cheesy nachos, chicken wings, french fries and beer and have it be socially acceptable.

And, yes... diet starts (again) tomorrow.

A Brave New Year

2010-01-04T08:49:00.000-08:00

Year over year, with every stroke of midnight each December 31st, the world symbolically sheds the past year's struggles, hardships, heartaches, fears and doubts. And in so many ways, January 1 does feel like a rebirth - an opportunity to call a cosmic mulligan to "do over" or "do better" in the areas you've failed to master the year prior. (argued considerably by my dear friend Lindsay who absolutely despises this concept on the basis that society has made up this ridiculous concept and a date doesn't change anything... but this is not about her.)

This year, I haven't yet made any resolutions. I didn't quite feel ready for the new year to come so quickly. I didn't organize, I didn't purge, I didn't prepare or even count down. Before I knew it, somewhere between the World Junior Hockey game, my third glass of red wine (okay fourth or fifth) and multiple servings of dinner, my relationship with 2009 was over and I was rebounding immediately, toasting champagne, sharing a sweet moment with my bf of three years and congratulating friends over roars of "happy new year!" My house still needed to be cleaned, my bills paid and the work I had left on December 29th would still be waiting for me in three days' time. In a nutshell, my breakup with 2009 had been messy with many loose ends and the shiny newness of 2010 only temporarily made me forget. Now I need closure.

That is probably what should be my 2010 resolution: get over 2009. I'll spend the first month of this brave new year resolving, reflecting, renouncing and reviving - really start to take good care of me. Then, I'll cut myself a little slack and restart the year again... slightly delayed but for the better.

Okay, here goes. Day 1 is half over and I'm feeling only slight anxiety. Good sign. And to reward myself for being so mature, I think I'll buy these. Seriously cute and are perfectly in line with my NYR. You can't make any decisions with cold feet!

welcome to the sugar-coated social

2009-12-23T12:56:00.000-08:00

no format. no theme. maybe some in between.
some rants and raves. needs and craves.
funnies. friendlies. yummys and tasties.
and the odd "you gotta see this" sharesies...

Today you are You, that is truer than true.
There is no one alive who is Youer than You
- Dr. Seuss

the sugar-coated social

Happy New Year!

My sphere of influence... Tacos

day dreaming

Lets catch up!

Let me tell you a secret, put it in your heart and keep it...

When is it okay to hug?

Battle of the Bronzers

my manicure made me sad

What's in YOUR makeup bag?

It's here....

The date is set...

So it's come down to this...

No one likes a bully

Outta My Way, Thursday!

To buy or not to buy, that is (always) the question

Cease and desist: foot in mouth

*New* Review: OPI for Sephora - Chic Print for Nails

Fast Forward

summer, how i've missed you

ohai! remember me

in short

home, home on the brain...

my mom says I'm a winner

more things sweet

on my owwwwn

wow Carly, you've changed

a picture says a thousand (swear) words

more friendly talents

Pretty-Inspired

yourself in retrospect

Pretty/Sweet

a manicure-all

things I learned: Tuesday

TGIFF

I never did get an Easy-Bake Oven

things I learned: Tuesday

are fanny pack's back?

Audrey makes me Hopeful

site interruptus

Wicked Good Arrival!

resolutions continued

mad for macarons

a nerd at <3

In short

A Brave New Year

welcome to the sugar-coated social

New Review: OPI for Sephora - Chic Print for Nails