ohai! remember me

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

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...

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

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

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

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

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).