Last GTA Barbie, I promise

SCARBOROUGH BARBIE: This Barbie now comes with stroller and infant doll. Optional accessories are a GED, cigarettes and a Metropass. Gangsta Ken and his 1979 Caddy were available but are now very difficult to find since the addition of the infant.

More GTA Barbies

MUSKOKA BARBIE: She's perfect in every way. Available only in the summer months and usually only on weekends. St. Joseph Dream Cottage available for a cool $10 million.












JANE AND FINCH BARBIE: This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9 mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a meth lab kit. This model only available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable bills)...unless you are a cop, and then we don't know what you're talking about.










QUEEN'S QUAY BARBIE: This collagen-injected, rhinoplastic Barbie wears a leopard print outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends. Percocet prescription available as well as warehouse conversion condo.














OSHAWA BARBIE: This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a NASCAR t-shirt and Tweety Bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Bud Light and a Hank Williams Jr. CD. She can spit over five feet and can kick mullet-haired Ken's butt when she's drunk. Purchase her pickup separately and get a Confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.














OAKVILLE BARBIE: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, credit card and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You won't be able to afford any of them.

GTA Barbies

I was sent this from my friend Jules. Those of you who know me, you know I love Barbie and Toronto. I thought this was the best way to pass this awesome stuff on to you. Enjoy.
BAYVIEW BARBIE: This princess Barbie is sold only at Bayview Village Shopping Centre. She comes with an assortment of Kate Spade handbags, a Lexus SUV, a long-haired dog named Honey, and a designer kitchen. Available with or without tummy tuck and face-lift. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with the augmented version.









BURLINGTON BARBIE: This modern-day homemaker is available with a Ford Windstar minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full-time occupation. Traffic-jamming cellphone sold separately.













CABBAGETOWN BARBIE: This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long, straight brown hair, archless feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you call her Willow. She does not want, or need, a Ken doll, but if you purchase two Cabbagetown Barbies and the optional Subaru Wagon, you'll get a rainbow flag bumper sticker for free.













CHURCH AND WELLESLEY BARBIE/KEN: This versatile doll can easily be converted from Barbie to Ken by simply adding or removing the multiple snap-on parts.

















HAMILTON BARBIE: This tobacco-chewing, brassy-haired Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased beer-gutted Ken out of Ancaster Barbie's house. Her ensemble includes low-rise acid-wash jeans, fake fingernails and a see-through halter top. Also available with a mobile home.












That's all I can upload for now. More to come! Anyone have any more?

Tagged

My friend Jules tagged me. I am to write six weird things about myself. But weird is relative, I'm sure. Anyway, here goes:

1. Since getting pregnant with my last child, I can't seem to sleep in. Stranger still, without fail, I will wake up around 5:20 (give or take 10 minutes). And, no, he wasn't born at 5:20.

2. I Google Earth friends' and relatives' houses. That's more creepy than weird, I know.

3. I was stalked for a few months, but in a heart-sick way. He didn't do anything mean, but he would leave things of his behind so I would know he was there. What is weird is that I kept the stuff because they were useful.

4. I don't think it's weird, but lots of people do: I go to the gym at the crack of dawn four days of the week to attend the 6:15 classes. Sometimes I'm there at 5:30 so I can get some extra cardio time. What I think is weird about this is that I still look pregnant.

5. I carry a pen or Sharpie with me at all times to correct public spelling and grammatical errors. I also carry a digital camera to photograph offenses to the English language. It's not Bridget Jone's Diary, people!

6. I shudder every single time I cross train tracks in the car. Some tracks are worse than others.

Now I have to tag six people: Baby Sister, Middle Sister, Purple Grape, the artist formerly known as Sunshine, my favourite sister-in-law and Slowplum. You can either post here in my comments section (sign in as "Anonymous") or just email me back, should you choose to admit to your inner weirdo. Slowplum, you can post on your own blog, chickie.

Surprise!

On Friday, I had 10 kids over for a birthday slumber party for Daughter. It went off without a hitch and ended in the requisite pillow fight. The last kid to fall asleep did so at about 2:30, which was kinda crazy because on the very next day, Baby Sister and The Boyfriend got married in Niagara Falls.

Let me backtrack. About a month ago, Baby Sister called The Boyfriend at work to complain about how tired she is and how demanding her job can be. She mentioned off-hand that it would be great to re-charge at a weekend getaway somewhere. She wasn't asking or anything.

The Boyfriend called back a little while later to tell her that he booked a weekend in Niagara Falls.

Fast-forward to Friday, February 9. They went to a pub. Boyfriend left first; Baby Sister dragged her ass home a bit later. How about when we go to Niagara Falls next week, we'll get married, Boyfriend asked. But let's keep it secret, he added.

Yeah, well, that lasted a nanosecond, I'm sure. But I have to tell my parents, Baby Sister said. Boyfriend agreed. And your parents? Okay. How about my sisters?

I was out having a few drinks with Jules when my house was called. When I came in, Husband said, "Call your sister."

"But it's after 10! It's too late."

"Call you sister."

"What's wrong?"

"Jeez, Jen, just call your sister!"

At the time, the plans were pretty sketchy. They didn't even know if they'd be able to get married, what with having to find someone to perform it as well as getting a license.

It was the day after, when Baby Sister was over at my house, when Boyfriend called to say it would be on Saturday February 17 at 4 p.m.

We went to my cousin's fiancee's shower, sworn to secrecy. Being a bridal shower, talk kept coming back to weddings and it pretty much burned our tongues not to say anything. Middle Sister didn't even tell her kids because she wasn't sure they'd be able to keep a secret (my mum told them later).

So the week went on. Everyone made their own preparations. Mum went blonde (!) and went to Michael's to make bouquets (including some flowers from her own headpiece into the new bouquet). I bought a dress for myself (think goth June Cleaver) and matching velour and rhinestone tops and taffeta skirts for Daughter and Niece who were flower girls. And, of course, also prepared for Daughter's birthday party. Baby Sister tried on about 50 dresses and settled on a purple chiffon Anne Klein from the Bay. Just so she could be like every bride-to-be, she had her obligatory meltdown when she found a stain on the inside of the dress when she took it home. Boyfriend got it dry cleaned and it looked great.

Saturday came. Mum and Dad picked up my grandmother and made their way to Niagara Falls, where Baby Sister and The Boyfriend were already staying since Friday with friends of theirs from the Ottawa Valley. My family met up with my parents and Baby Sister at the hotel, with Middle Child screeching in delight as we drove through Clifton Hill, noting all the places he wants to visit for his birthday. We overshot the drive time and got there about an hour early, but my friend came over to my house to do my hair and Daughter's, so that saved us some time.

We met again at the little chapel, not five minutes away (and really close to the Flying Saucer Restaurant which is shaped like, uh, a flying saucer. We really are going back to Niagara Falls for Middle Child's birthday and that will be my choice of attraction). The Boyfriend's parents were already there, as were Middle Sister's family. There was a wedding before ours so we stayed in the basement, where Baby Sister had her last freak out (a minor one) when she thought they needed to pay in cash.

Four o'clock came around and the pastor, or whomever he was, got us organized. Daughter and Niece were flower girls (and sooo thrilled to be) and were taught how to walk and reminded to smile. I think I remember a little giggling when the time came.

"Who's the maid of honour?"

"She is," Baby Sister and Mum pointed at me. I thought I was only going to sign a few documents after the ceremony. Nope. Up the aisle I went with a bouquet I borrowed from the chapel. It matched nicely with the ones Mum made, albeit the flowers were the ones with the fake dew on it.

The pastor dude had told Dad, who led Baby Sister up the aisle, that he'll be asking, "Who gives this woman to be wed?" Dad said, "And I'll say, 'I do.'" Baby Sister and I suggested, "How about saying, 'My wife and I do?'" And he replied with a curt, "No." Baby Sister sighed and we knew not to pursue it.

So with a click of the remote, the chapel filled with the sound of Pachelbel's Canon, creating the trifecta as now all my sisters and I walked up the aisle to that song. The pastor pulled out a brochure and read from it through the ceremony, with the exception of a little crib note he pulled out with the top ten bits of advice to a happy marriage (come together on financial matters, respect the past but look forward and plan for the future, resolve problems before bedtime, etc).

I noticed The Boyfriend's father weeping, but my grandmother, famous for her very loud crying at weddings, did not. I asked her later what she thought. "It was different, but it was still a wedding and that's the main thing. All weddings are nice and this one is nice most of all because your sister is so happy."

We signed the documents (wow, there was a lot) while some country song and then Ricky Martin's She's All I Ever Had came on, which was pointed out by Middle Sister in a stage whisper they must have heard in Norway. Niece was dying to toss her bouquet, but I advised both girls to stand as still as possible and not to say, as they planned, "Ewww gross" when the wedded couple kiss (and they didn't). In fact, all the kids were well behaved. Youngest Grandson was in the back playing with a potted plant. He was a little vocal, but not for long, and wasn't distracting. The others were quiet as anything, as I gave them all lollypops before the ceremony started. Gotta have something to occupy them!

And, as quick as that, the pastor said, "May I be the first to present to you the new Mr. and Mrs. Boyfriend's Full Name." Baby Sister giggled a bit, probably because she was deliriously happy and also because she's keeping her maiden name. We walked out to the back of the chapel (where there was another couple waiting to get married). The first thing the Boyfriend's mother asked was, "Are you really going to be Mrs. Boyfriend?" "No, you'll still be the only one," Baby Sister said, and then turning to Boyfriend's father, "I hope you don't mind." And, being reasonable and soooo nice, they said they weren't offended in the least and laughed it off.

(They did ask me later about my experiences having kept my name too, particularly when it concerns the children. I assured them that it isn't that rare any more and I haven't run into any problems at school or with other parents or children. "And as far as my own kids are concerned, they don't know me as Jennifer Last Name. I'm Mummy.")

From the chapel, we went to the Hilton where we had a private dining room reserved for us on the 33rd (top) floor. We were a little early, so most went to the lobby bar while Middle Sister, myself and our husbands watched over our kids who were longing to go for a dip into the hotel pool.

Before long, we made our way up to the restaurant, where the staff had the menu printed for us on the large banquet table where we all sat together. As I understand it, the selections were made by The Boyfriend, who has an exquisite palate. And the view! All I can say is that it was breathtaking! As tacky as Niagara Falls can be, you just can't deny the majesty of the falls themselves. Incredible.

So with Middle Sister bringing out the Playdough (God bless her) to occupy the kids, we started with some Niagara wine (of course) and all sorts of different breads. Then came a wedge of panko-crusted camembert with flat bread and red pepper jelly, which I had to share with Baby Boy. Then we had mixed greens with an herb vinigrette, which Boyfriend's mother gave to Daughter and Niece to share. We then had a choice between rack of lamb, two grilled chicken breasts or prime rib, followed by our choice of dessert (chocolate caramel cheesecake with dark chocolate holding it together in chocolate and caramel sauces, an ice cream truffle in a pastry cup with berries or a lemon curd tart with raspberry coulis. And coffee. The kids had a huge mound of chicken fingers and fries, with mint ice cream for dessert. The portions were HUGE for everyone. And the quality was excellent. Service was wonderful and they were very patient and accommodating with all of us.

I could also go on about how Daughter and Niece thought it was the world's most fanciest restaurant, mostly based on the waterfall faucets and fresh towels in the bathroom.

After prompting from Middle Sister ("Welcome to the family. Now, listen to what I have to tell you..."), Boyfriend added to the many lovely speeches (including Purehearted Nephew's, "You love my aunt because she's beautiful") where he thanked every single person at the table for getting him and Baby Sister to the altar. The only one that left me wondering was when he thanked Middle Child for the trip to the Science Centre because that day got him thinking about getting married.

Everyone had an incredible time. It was intimate. It was private. It really felt like we were permitted to witness the love Baby Sister and the Boyfriend have.

I guess I'm going to have to call Boyfriend something different now.

The Police and the Trots

I went to my cousin's fiancée's bridal shower on Sunday. It would have been really nice had Daughter not put on the drama quite so much. She's developed the ability to cry at the drop of a hat. I'm wondering if I should really, REALLY talk to her about menstruation. Ick.

It would also had been nice if I didn't get the trots afterward. Middle Sister was also ill.

She drove us there and back, which was nice. She was so excited because she was going to put the kids to bed early that night to catch the Grammys. "I gotta watch The Police, man!"

I told her I might or might just find the clip on YouTube after or something. I then reminded her what they were like in concert.

"Oh, yeah. They WERE kind of boring, weren't they?"

And then I told her I was hesitant because I really didn't care much for the musical wank Sting would put into the middle of songs (or at least that was what he used to do).

"But you'll watch it anyway, Jen, just like me. It'll be for old-time's sake."

And she was right.

And I was right, too. They were as dull as watching paint dry. Andy Summers looked fabulous for a senior citizen. I saw him recently on The Hour. I swear, he hasn't aged much. I was digging the glasses and grey hair on Stewart Copeland. He was always cool. And Sting. And musical wank.

Of course, news was released yesterday regarding - surprise! - a Police reunion tour. Tickets are $225. Yeah, right. I've seen them before when they were young and active. It cost me $30 and opening for them were The Talking Heads, The English Beat, Joan Jett and, er, I'm forgetting (Middle Sister: help me out).

Anyway, I turned off the Grammys earlier than Husband thought I would. I mean, it was like, "Welcome to the Grammys. I'm Jamie Foxx and, yet again, I'm going to spend the first few minutes here acknowledging all the African-Americans in the first couple of rows." Boring!

But, shhh, I was loving the Shakira/Wyclef show. Not very punk rock of me, is it?

Mommy, Wow. I'm a Big Kid Now.

Baby Boy turned 4 yesterday.

We bought him a bike with training wheels, which he needed and yet he probably wouldn't have ever asked for. He's been riding it around the house all day today. And he's good at it. He'll be doing wheelies by summer.

Someone must have told him that he'll be going to Junior Kindergarten when he's 4. Today, a nursery school day for him, we pulled up to the older kids' school, which is right next door. He was ready to get out. When I walked him across the parking lot to his nursery school, he flipped out. "But I'm 4! I go with them now! I'm big!"

Thankfully, it only took 10 minutes to calm him down and get him settled at nursery school.

I'm reading Bridge to Terabithia to the older kids. They really want to see the movie that's coming out in a week. I was read the book by my Grade 4 teacher. I know what's in it. I'd rather they find out before we see the movie so we can discuss the subject matter.