Six Degrees of Canadian Celebrity Seperation

Speaking of the new Canadian bachelorette, there are actually a lot of Canadian celebrities milling about - and more than a few of us in the Great White North have staked our claim to fame on knowing one of them.

Like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon, many Canadians can track themselves to a celebrity or two and I am no exception.

I know you're going to be blown away by this but I once partied with the Italian grandmother of Gino Vanelli, and no!

I am not lying.



*Silence*

What the do you mean you've never heard of him?

Do the words "People Gotta Move" and "Wheels of Life" mean nothing to you?



Obviously not.

But still, I partied like it was 1999, back in 1987 with his grandmother in Montreal.

My six degrees of seperation were as follows: My best friend's boyfriend's buddy was Gino Vanelli's cousin. He invited us to a party at Gino'a father's house in Montreal and his 86 year old Italian grandmother was there.

1. best friend 2. boy friend 3. buddy 4. cousin 5. father 6. grandma

Grandma didn't speak a word of English and I didn't speak a word of Italian.

But it was on that night I learned that homemade Italian red wine has magical properties:

Not only does it make you want to do the macarena, initiate some form of group hugging. and sing Dean Martin songs into the wee hours, it also makes you fully fluent in Italian after about the sixth glass.

People, I have no idea what Grandma and I talked about that night, but I've made spaghetti like a pro ever since.

I bring this up because we've had a major celebrity occurence of our own this week - the small town I live in is actually home to Pamela Anderson.



Creating quite the stir when she and the sisters blow into town.

Case in point, at app 13:00 hours Pacific Standard Time today, my teenage son TH recieved no less than ten texts from friends who spotted Miss Anderson at a local Starbucks.

Apparently she's in meetings with our city council trying to get her dream home built.

And the next thing I know, the Poolboy's at it.

He phoned everyone on his list with the big news ending with his boss who apparently has a thing for Miss A.

The two of them confabbed like a couple of school girls getting ready for prom and then decided to get coffee to check things out.

You know, because Pam is hot for middle aged balding men in concrete gear.

Of course she was long gone by the time they got there.

But apparently it was still worth it because she had actually touched the counters!



And that's the blog.

Tell me, though, have you ever met a celebrity?

If so, my enquiring mind wants to know all about it!

And now, for the show...

Heeeeeeeeere's Gino!!



Don't forget to stop by The Kitchen Witch for tonight's dinner ideas.

Tonight I'm making Fabulous Fajitas!

If She'd Paint Em Mango Mango They'd Be a Ten!

I remember an episode of Oprah a few years back where she talked about Diana Ross appearing on the Tonight Show for the first time.

She went running around the house yelling"Coloured folks on! Coloured folks on!"

Well a similar thing is happening right now in Canada with the latest installment of The Bachelor - or in this case, The Bachelorette, because for the first time ever, a Canadian is being featured on American tv in a reality show who isn't deranged, wearing mucklucks, or living in an igloo.

"Bachelorette's on! Bachelorette's on!"



Let me tell you, tonight's broadcast had Aurora and I burning up the phone lines!

Her earrings were great, the men were hunky, and Jake...

Oh our sweet, sweet Jake!



We talked about him in reverent tones throughout every commercial break marvelling that there are actually men like him in this world...

Gorgeous.

Kind.

Unafraid to show true emotion.

Smart.

Funny.

And with big earning potential.



What?

People, the man is a pilot.

Though I'm certain he would still be attractive as, say, a Walmart cashier...

Pilot people!



I'm just sayin.

So it stands to reason that when it came down to the wire tonight, she didn't pick him.

Why?

Because women are Dumb Ass.

Instead of going for the nice guy, we prefer a challenge.

And challenge in the case of our Canadian bachelorette comes packaged as Wes.



The evil country singer pictured here with another woman.

Good Lord Jilian, what were you thinking?

Come to mama Jake, come to mama.



Although evil Wes has already said "I'm here for the music, not for the girl," Gillian is convinced she and him have something special and that he "isn't capable of lying to her."

How many damn times have I uttered those words?

Which proves that, no matter who you are, getting burned must be a right of passage.

That or finding out your soul mate has the odd hidden, erm, proclivity.

Like Tanner the foot fetish guy (tv just keeps getting better and better!)



Who, believe it or not, I actually liked.

People, any man who can comment on a woman's feet with so much authority, is a little bit all right in my books.

I mean he couldn't keep his hands off. Rubbing her toes all up and down with lotion any chance he got.

I have to wonder what kind of mischief he'd get up to with the mango mango...

Of course he got the axe too.

***

And that's my recap of tonight's installment of The Bachelorette. Proving, yet again, that braincells really do deteriorate with age!

Is anyone else watching?

If so, what did you think about this week's episode?

As always. enquiring minds want to know!

To learn more about mango mango, click here: Mango Mango on The Bachelorette revealed.

***

If you're stuck for dinner tonight, pop by The Kitchen Witch for a blog about the making of good old fashioned spaghetti and meatballs!



And then have a Fabulous Day!

My Top Four Picks for Country Music Lyric Themes and Other Star Studded Attractions!

Blame it on TH, but lately I've been listening to country music.



This is incredibly funny since, not even two years ago, my son the musical snob would listen to nothing but Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Page, and other classic rock of that era.

In the time since, however, he has discovered the holy trinity of late adolescent goodtimes: camping, beer, and, yes, country music, which has turned him into a convert.

I, of course, had no idea being that TH is mute 98% of the time.

So when we went driving a few months ago and he popped a burnt CD of "rockin tunes" into the stereo, I was shocked when "In the Boondocks" by Little Big Town came on.

Well, shocked, and - you know me - sentimental.

This because I started listening to the words:

I feel no shame I'm proud of where I came from I was born and raised in the boondocks One thing I know No matter where I go I keep my heart and soul in the boondocks

After years of worrying about TH's childhood growing up "PO"(remember the time I made him a costume for his school halloween parade by stapling plastic bugs to his spiderman pyjamas?) I was strangely comforted by the lyrics.

People, he was proud that his mother couldn't afford to buy him a costume!

(and never learned to sew)

It's where I learned about living It's where I learned about love It's where I learned about working hard And having a little was just enough

By the time the song reached the part about Jesus - oh yes it did - I was outright sobbing.

Of course, TH had to ruin the moment.

"Are you CRYING??!?" he enquired with his usual teenage charm.

"No," I replied, wiping my nose with the corner of my shirt, "I'm just feeling sentimental because I didn't realize how much you appreciated growing up out here in the, um, country."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because of the lyrics, the Boondocks, it's all just so meaningful!"

TH looked at me like I'd gone completely insane and says, "I like the song for the guitar licks."

Let me go on record by saying, I don't believe him ;)

But the entire conversation got me thinking about country music again - a musical genre I had pretty much drifted away from around the time Garth Brooks went crazy and turned into Chris Gaines.

I am sorry but, up until then I was in full blown crazy ass celebrity love (tm) with the man - and he turns into this??



Really?

Um, ring ring Garth - Ben Stiller called from Zoolander and says he wants his wig back.

Then there was the whole enough to make my skin crawl fiasco where he went on Oprah and gushed about his daughters wearing white wedding gowns at his nuptials to Trisha Yearwood.

I mean, EWWWWWWWWWW!

Why is it that everytime a celebrity I like goes on Oprah it's pretty much like sounding the death knell for me?

Back to country music.

What I always liked about it was the lyrics. Country songs seem to pack the kind of emotional punch I can relate to and as I drove around shortly after my exchange with TH listening to Shakira singing about her body and all its marvels, it occured to me that before I ripped my lips off, I should give country another try.

So I programmed a local station into my car radio and began listening.

Soon I was familiar with everything on the rotation and singing along.

Kenny Chesney went out last night, Toby Keith was still inexplicably appealing in a "makes my heart beat a little faster even though I can't stand him" kind of way, and according to Billy Currington "God is great beer is good, and people are crazy" - a sentiment I can get on board with, if you substitute beer with vodka and add an olive.

As tends to happen with top forty radio stations of any genre, though, after a few days of dedicated listening you begin to hear the same songs over and over and over again. As such, I began to hear a pattern to today's top country tunes.

It seems many of the popular ones revolve around three or four central themes:

1. Life goes fast and your children grow up so don't waste a second of their childhood.

2. Jimmy Buffet was a God and I'm gonna emulate everything he ever did by singing about hard workin men with Peter Pan complexes who drink themselves to a stupor every night at the bar.

3. My baby's leaving me. Packing up and hitting the road.

And my personal favourite...

4. "The Perfect Woman" - this gal shows up a lot in country tunes. From what I can ascertain, female perfection according to country music standards involves a woman who:

• Has selfless love for her man and her children
• Looks good in tight jeans
• Has an ability to shoot pool.
• Can drink Jack Daniels with the best of them.
  
• Looks good with no makeup (she's not a fancy gal - forget manolos or expensive jewelry, sweatpants, and a ponytail will do just fine)
• Despite this lack of makeup, hairstyle, or any kind of fashion, she manages, still, to exude natural health, and kindness - I figure this is on account of her selfless ways.
  

Which sadly means no one in Nashville's gonna be writing about me anytime soon.

First, because the whole "selfless thing" really isn't me.

(just ask the Poolboy)

And second because I believe the songwriters have someone like this in mind when they pen these kinds of lyrics:



As opposed to this...



Maven in her pony tail and sweatshirt exuding natural beauty after scrubbing the toilet.

Proving, yet again, the miracle of makeup.

And that's the blog!

***

Got a favourite country song you'd like to share? Who sings it and why do you like it?

I'll share one of my favourites in a minute.

But before I do, if you're not sure what to cook for dinner tonight, check out today's recipe on The Kitchen Witch for Lemon Pepper Shrimp Linguini.

So easy to make and so DELICIOUS!



Now, for my favourite tune...

As you know, most of my blogs are written with my tongue planted firmly in cheek, and though I joke, I actually love country music - and this song, performed by Randy Travis and Carrie Underwood on American Idol this season choked me right up because it was so raw, beautiful, and honest.

Please enjoy and then have a fabulous day!



Smooches!

Come Together Oh Great Bodacious Nation!

It has long been established that I'm a foodie and have been since the day I was born.

In fact, in my baby book listed under "special achievments" my mother has written "Eats A lot" - which, though an accomplishment for sure, tends to wreak havok with the hidden super model living within me.

She's this gorgeous, albeit naturally pretty, super being with perfect hair, teeth and body who has lived inside my heart's most secret desire ever since I picked up my first Seventeen magazine and learned how to artfully apply Dr. Pepper lip gloss in order to look appropriately kissable.

People, meet Jamie: my fashion idol of 1975:



Jamie personified everything I dreamed of being when I was 9: Easy, breezy, natural, and thin in a way that was achievable for me at the time.

How sad that magazines like Seventeen have devolved with the passage of our ever materialistic times:



Although I'm relieved to see lip gloss is still important in this age of metallic thong underwear and La Senza for Girls, it seems flat abs and a great butt, 101 ways to make money fast, and naked pictures have taken precedence over the kinder gentler "A + Clothes and Great New Looks, Kicking your Fears and Chasing the Lonelies" front page fare of 1975.

Ah progress.

Truth be told, though, I believe it's the secret desire of most women who applied Bonne Bell Lip Gloss circa 1966 - 1989 to be seen as attractive, well put together, and thin despite any and all of our personal and professional successes.

Gloria Steinem unfortunately notwithstanding, thin continues to be in.

And fat is definitley not where it's at.

In this day and age of Size Zero, that wild and wacky entity known as the weight loss industry barrages us daily with messages of our failings from the culturally acceptable:



To the ridiculous:

This former flabster went went from Jackson to Osmond in only two short weeks!!!!



But silly weight loss gimmicks aren't new my friends...



The above proves that people have been dumb ass since time immemorial.



***

Alas. all those terrible "fleshy" people from yester year are probably now long gone.

But I wonder if they spent their lives worrying about achieving some kind of non-fleshy, uber fabulous status quo?

And if they did - in honour of the grand scheme of things - I'd like to take a moment to remind everyone what a colossal waste of time that must have been.

Think about it.

Yet most of us continue to do it - myself included.

We run on an ever spinning, self perpetuating treadmill of lies. Convincing ourselves that maybe if we are thin enough, or rich enough, or whatever enough, we might somehow find eternal life.

Of at the very least, five star accomodations at the Hotel St. Peter.

***

Last night the PB and I took the dog for a walk. He was in his formal evening attire of oversized Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and bedroom slippers while I looked fierce in a pair of mint green short style pyjama bottoms and a large orange and blue plaid shirt.

We live in redneck country where everything pretty much goes so it really isn't a stretch to see people walking around this way - except, as we got further into our stroll we walked past a group of teenage boys.

It occured to me, as the left leg of my shorts rode conspicuously north, becoming trapped by the flesh of my upper thigh, that there are no circumstances in this life under which I will ever be considered a MILF.

Which is a good thing, I guess.

But still, to have found myself so far on the other end of the spectrum was, well, a little heartbreaking.

Little known fact about middle aged women #453: Most of us secretly dream of being Mrs. Robinson.



I continued walking with visions of myself as a White Aunt Jemima running through my head.

When we got home, by shere coinicidence a commercial came on the tv that made us both stop and pause.

It was as if God himself had bought a weight loss franchise and was broadcasting to the masses:

"Your weight issues, my people, and the injustices therein, verily have nothing to do with what you eat or how much of the good stuff you consume..."



People, I know this is going to come as a shock, but the collective size of humanity's ass is, according to God (aka the guy in the infomercial), about our genetics and metabolism and not about our will power.

I know!

In other words, we, the people of The Bodacious Nation (tm) are victims of our own body chemistry, and are not simply hapless victims of the Big Mac.

As such it is time to rise.

Or at the very least, roll and grunt as we make our way off the couch.

Because, according to the nice man on tv, the slight weight gain I've experienced this winter has absolutely nothing to do with lack of exercise, or my own personal affirmation that Julia Child was right when she said "Butter is better."

My weight gain is nothing more than a groggy metabolism.

Shopping Channel Bless us Everyone!

Of course you know I jest.

I write this simply because I can see no way out.

Self acceptance is a slippery slope when every message from our (neon) Gods tells us we're not good enough.

Rich enough.

Thin enough.

Succesful enough.

Tall enough.

Funny enough.

Natural enough.

Smart enough.

Tough enough.

Fast enough.

Savvy enou...



"This is the way the way the world ends This is the way the way the world ends This is the way the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper."

And that's the blog.

Could somebody please pass me the Doritos?

Now turn em up!





Are you a self appointed member of the Bodacious Nation - and as such, what do you think about when it comes to who and what we "should" all be?

As always, enquiring minds want to know!

SMOOCHES!!

Delicious Summer Salads and a Cold Vegetable Pizza

Hello everyone!

It's been awhile, I know, but I've been gardening, and reading, and decorating for summer - you know, all the good stuff. It hasn't left much time for blogging but I want you all to know I've been thinking about you.

In the meantime, I have two blogs to share on The Kitchen Witch today that are simply magical!

They involve pithy little commentary from yours truly, a couple of really stellar salad recipes...

The Best Macaroni Salad Evah!



Open Sesame Asian Noodle Salad



And a cold vegetable pizza for summer that is, truly, to die for!



Come on over, leave me a comment (or two) and put The Kitchen Witch into your favourites if you want to follow my adventures in the garden and kitchen this summer.

A Summer Salad Extravaganza

Asiago and Artichole Pizza with Summer Fresh Vegetables

Stay tuned soon for a blog on Fabulously Good Life about, well, life - and all of its passages and another about poor social behaviour that should have you laughing.

Until then,

I'm sending the love...

Mave