Bringing a Tear to my Eyes

There’s something about the smokey, traditional jazz look of Imelda May that reminds me of Dad.

Listening to these lyrics broke my heart, as they are exactly how Dad feels about Mom.  He will forever be falling in love with her again.  Love you Dad!

Now if only I could stumble upon the man that love me like Dad loves Mom.

Kisses,

Emme xoxo

PS Imelda May is live this Saturday at the 2011 Burnaby Blues and Roots Festival.

Book Torn

Last day with my folks and I made the mistake of picking up The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society whilst I was wallowing in the tub.

Cursing the authors, Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows, as all I want to do now is curl up for the rest of the day with this book.  Normally that would be a good thing, but not on my last day at home with the two people I love most in this world.  So why not wait until tomorrow?  I can’t.  Dad warned me when he saw me pick it up that Mom had yet to read it and as such I could not take it with me. #@%$#^!@%@#$  To make it worse, I have been searching for months for a novel that had the right voice and felt inspirational enough for me to finish my first novel and there is no doubt in my mind that this is it.  I really hope that this is not the only novel of the now deceased Mary Anne Shaffer.  I’d love to read more of Miss Juliet Ashton and I would really love to read some of her character, Izzy Bickerstaff.

Okay, painfully tearing myself from this delightful book and to the lovelies in my live.  Will tear apart the airport bookstores tomorrow in search of this book.  Really do need to have my own copy of it on one of my many bookshelves after all.

Love and light,

Emme xoxo

My Dad’s Favourite Singer of ‘Santa Baby’

My Dad just put me on to Eartha Kitt and must say, I absolutely love her!!!

And like a fine wine, this gal only gets sexier with age!

Holiday Tip #5: Don’t Sweat the Wardrobe Malfunctions

Take it from the gal that has had unexpected and embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions at pretty much every social gathering this holiday, that they aren’t worth sweating.  Best to just find the humour in them, as opposed to letting them destroy your holiday moments.  Here’s some practice – just laugh at my moments.

Moment #1 was relatively tame.  Arrived late to a dinner with friends of my parents, only to have the zipper to my jeans break 10-seconds after entering. Locked myself in the bathroom for 10-minutes trying fix it.  No luck.  Quietly ask the hostess for safety pins.  She didn’t have any.  Meanwhile the truly evil unknown cashier, saw everything and with a wicked little smile commented as loudly as she could, “They’ve probably broken from too much use.”  “Do you wear them when you dance?”, she added ‘oh so innocently’.  I decided to make a quick escape to the door for a quick fashion change, when my lovely, but oblivious father pipes up with, “Where are you off to, you only just arrived?”

Broken Zipper by you.

Moment #2 is much more dramatic and really belongs in my ‘Blonde Moments’.  I got all dressed up to go and see our yearly Christmas musical with my family.  Drove with my sister and her husband, as its important to her that he get to know me better.  I guess I am not as embarrassing to her as I’d previously suspected.  Well get to know me better he did.  A whole lot better.

Gale force winds had whipped when we got out of the car to walk across to the theatre.  My brother-in-law and I quickly ran across the road, but Bella was just standing there, yelling “My hat, my hat!”  It took me a second to realize what the problem was.  Her hat, one I’d knit for her, my most favourite hat that I’d ever knit, had blown off and was lying on the ground on the other side of a 10 foot iron gate with jagged spikes on the top.

old iron gate by CoreForce.

Photo by Falk Lademann

Before I knew it, I’d tossed my purse and camera at my sister and was scaling the gate.  It wasn’t until I was at the very top and my highly religious brother-in-law was standing right underneath me that I realized I was wearing a skirt and a short one at that.  Happily had discovered that he wasn’t quite the prude I’d previously suspected and did have a sense of humour after all.  There was a greater problem at hand now though than him seeing up my skirt, I suddenly realized that scaling tall gates in dress shoes wasn’t quite as easy as in runners.  Who knew!?!  And to complicate matters, the gale force winds had now blown my skirt up over my head.

DSC_7532 by Mr Ferguson.

All potential suitors will happily know that luckily I narrowly missed impaling myself on one of the top spikes of the gate, sex and children are still possibilities in my future.  Thank God!  A life without sex would be like a life without chocolate or wine.  A reality that I will hopefully never have to face.  Didn’t get by totally unscathed though, as I literally toppled over the top of the gate.  Huge blow to my tomboy past, but thankfully, like a cat, I did land on my feet, so no ambulance needed calling.

Retrieved the hat and was half over before Oh Religious One and Bella realized they were holding my camera with video capabilities.  Thankfully for me and sadly for you they were a little slow on the uptake and recognizing the danger of my current situation, my tomboy skills had returned for the scrambling down.  So there is no photos or video of the fated moment.

I did, however, discover that the back of my leg was a bloody mess when I arrived in the washroom.  This was quickly rectified by removing my torn and bloody tights, mopping up the wound and all the women in the theatres restroom banding together to find enough bandaids to prevent my skirt being stained with blood during the performance.

The War Wounds:

Fence Climbing Caper War Wound by you.

Fence Climbing Caper War Wound #2 by you.

Destroyed Stalkings from Christmas Fence Caper by you.

Such acts of human kindness and the realization that it was damn cold with no tights on, reminded me that not everyone is as lucky as I am.  A lot of people don’t have warm winter toques and other clothes to chase when they blow off or warm theatres full of goodwill to hide out from the cold in.  To pass along a little of this kindness to others this winter, give winter clothes that you no longer wear to those in need, donate cell phones to groups like Fearless City that give them to those living on the streets improving saftey, or support groups like Beauty Nights that helps those that are less fortunate feel sexy too!

Kisses,
Emme xoxo

Holiday Tip #3: Dinner Conversation

We have all spent holiday dinners where we’ve discovered that our family still hasn’t a clue as to what we do, who our lover of over a year is, just what our best friend or business partner’s name is, or are inadvertently criticized.  At one time, I use to let such conversations get me upset, set off a fight, take hugely personally and end up in tears.  Somewhere along the way somethings shifted within me.  Maybe I just realized that it’s not all about me and not meant personally, or maybe it’s just that I’ve grown up and realized that there are real stresses in this world and such moments should not be made into a stress.  So rather than turning such moments into fights or tears this Christmas I am turning them into laughter.

Dinner Table by Zolotkey.
Photo by Zolotkey

One moment earlier this week whilst enjoying a pre-Christmas dinner party at the neighbours, my Dad announced to the table that I no longer play any sports.  Rather than taking this into a totally irrational translation of ‘you’ve become a lazy couch potatoe’, before I knew it out of my mouth came, “No Dad, I still play sports.  I do pole dance after all.”  Needless to say this had the whole table laughing and is unlikely to be forgotten in the neighborhood for years to come.  I’m now ‘their pole dancing daughter from Vancouver’ – that is what Vancouver does to a gal after all.

Here goes nothing by you.

Perhaps the moment that my Mom and I enjoyed the most, however, was Dad asking for the kazillionth time who Lola was.  Lola one of my greatest friends of all time and one of my writing partners!?!  Mom started to respond with “her partner”.  And once again, my mouth opened, “Yeah Dad we thought it was about time to tell you that there’s a reason why I have yet to bring a man home.  Thought it was important for you to know now as wee little m, isn’t your only grandchild.  You have two other granddaughters too, as it took Lola a while to recognize that she was a lesbian.  Don’t worry you’ll get to meet them shortly, they’re all coming for Christmas.”  Sadly Lola, I gave Dad a quiz after all of this and dear old Dad still doesn’t remember your name or that of your daughters.  He is happy that we’ve found each other, however.

laughing Emme by Lola May.

So my suggestion this Christmas is don’t take dinnertime conversations personally, it probably isn’t meant that way, and it’s far more enjoyable to laugh than to fight.