Saturday Steals: It was out of my hands.

by Camille Posted on September 17, 2010

Hello, and welcome to another rousing round of Saturday Steals!

To participate, simply:

1) Steal a steal.

2) Write a post about it on your blog, mentioning that you’re participating in Saturday Steals (you can steal the above image if you so desire), and

3) Add the link to said post to the list at the bottom of this post.

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My steal of the week is this:

I did not get the Jane Austen class after all.

And look at how much I’ll be saving as a result:

Tuition…………………………….$550.97
(Incidentally, this is the cheapest my tuition has been since I started classes at this university four semesters ago. And I’m taking more classes than I ever have. Thank you, resident status.)

Books (two not pictured)………………………………$100.00

Fuel for extra commute until December……..$200

Large vat of Proactiv™ to combat the stress pimples that would’ve come from writing two extra research essays and two extra exams….$500

All of these comine for a total savings of $1,300 and that’s not even figuring all the money I’ll save in therapist’s fees for not losing my mind.

Hooray for steals.

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Now it’s your turn! What have you stolen lately?

(Perchance it will be one of my homemade, handcrafted hair/sweater/whatever-clip flowers? Entries are still pretty low, and the contest is open until Sunday at 11:59.)

Add your steal to the link list below. It will be open from now till Sunday at 11:59 p.m:



Posted in my edjumacation and me, Saturday Steals | 3 Comments

Handmade Flowers (a giveaway times ten)

by Camille Posted on September 15, 2010

The last time I was visiting my home city, my amazingly talented and ever-creative friend Lindsay (who, incidentally, has started a fancy new blog and Etsy shop for your online viewing pleasure {and what a pleasure it is}) taught me how to make several different varieties of fabric flowers.

Sitting on pins and needles during the craft lesson, I was the most willing and anxious of students, and I tried to remember as much as possible about her techniques.

Unfortunately, after a few minutes, I was forced to excuse myself to Lindsay’s (adorable) restroom, where I stayed for approximately ten minutes as I talked myself out of throwing up violently.

I had taken ill, you see.

When I went back to the lesson, I apologised to Lindsay and made a hasty retreat back to my parents’ house, because I knew the vomit was only minutes away from surfacing. I don’t know why I caught a little barf bug that particular night, but I did. Within 24 hours it was gone.

I was so embarrassed by my rude exit, but Lindsay said she understood. Luckily, I figured I had been coherent enough during her lesson that I could make all the flowers she taught me when I got back to Canada. Before I started the drive back across the country, I bought all the craft supplies I would need to imitate Lindsay’s fabric flowers, which I intended to do the very moment George Jettson and I rolled into our driveway in Mayberry.

And I meant to, I really did.

Only I got sidetracked with houseguests, and summer school, and BlogHer, and a general life-swallowing laziness the likes of which I won’t get to enjoy for at least another eight months now that fall semester is under way.

It was not until many weeks (lie: months) later that some unexplainable (and altogether unfamiliar) feeling of ambition came over me, driving me into the basement where I had long since tucked those underutilised crafty supplies.

Lugging them all up to the light of my kitchen counter, I proceeded to make some fabric flowers.

I had just one problem: of the four different (and unique) flower-making methods that Lindsay taught me, I could only remember one.

No matter, I decided. I’ll just make a bunch of that one kind. I mean, you can never have too many flowers, right?

Umm, right.

I ended up with twenty-five of them.

Some are white and pink.

Some are pink and brown.

Some are navy blue and striped.

And some are just plain white. (I confess that these are my favourites.)

Some have buttons in the centre, some have gems, some have lace. Some boast singed edges, some do not. They are all different, and I think that’s why I like them so much.

Like them or not, however, it only took me about ten seconds after I finished my marathon to realise that it would be ridiculous to keep all twenty-five flowers.

So I’m going to give ten of them away.

Now, lest you think there is nothing you could possibly do with a handmade-by-Camille flower, just you look:

You can clip it to any blouse to pretend like it came that way.


You can clip it in your hair to turn even the sloppiest of ponytails into a masterpiece.

You can add it to a dollar store headband to make it look like you paid a lot of money for it.

You can add three of them to a dollar store headband for the same effect.

AND, if you’re being really trendy, you can move that headband across your forehead, Rambo-style, because everyone knows that it will turn you cool in, like, less than a second:

Just kidding. I know that would be ridiculous.

It’s too much…

…all you need is one well-placed statement headband to make your style really shine:

But don’t ask me, I just made the dang things one night when Poor Kyle was late coming home from work and I needed to channel my marital frustrations. And now I want them out of my house so they can finally quit reminding me of that dreadful night when I made love to my hot glue gun on the kitchen counter till 3 a.m.

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So here’s how this will work:

If you think you might could get the image of me making love to a glue gun out of your head, and still want a flower, comment on this post for one entry.

Blog about this post for an extra entry (then comment to tell me you’ve blogged).

Tweet this post for an extra entry (then comment to tell me you’ve tweeted).

Facebook it for an extra entry (then comment to tell me you facebooked).

Email it to your entire contact list (or just your Great Aunt Hazel, if you think she’d be interested) for an extra entry (then comment to tell me you emailed).

Shipping will be on me. All flowers will come already attached to a clip. Note that these are not professionally finished (i.e. you can see the hot glue I used underneath). Also, you don’t get to pick your colour—I don’t have time for that—so if you think you can’t handle such a disgrace, take your entries elsewhere.

You get what you pay for.

Giveaway will remain open until Sunday, September 18, at 11:59 p.m.

Posted in fashion people, giveaways, It's All Good | Tagged | 40 Comments

Whatcha Wearin’ Wednesday and The Taste of Vomit in My Mouth

by Camille Posted on September 14, 2010

Sometimes when I try to go out of my comfort zone and be trendy, things just go horribly wrong. Take this outfit, which I bravely wore to Bunco the other night:

That little make-any-tank-top-modest sweater was in my closet leftover from back when they were cool. (Oh wait, was that ever?) I don’t know why I still have it. Probably just to keep me humble in situations like this. I really should throw it away I think.

I paired it with my teal Costco tank top that I love so much I also bought it in salmon roe (the colour, you see, of salmon roe) despite the minor—yet not to be ignored—detail that salmon roe is quite possibly the worst colour I could ever wear.

The thing that sealed this outfit’s fate in the Oops Files is the fact that I asked Poor Kyle what he thought of it and he said it made my boobs look big. He’s got a point, but it’s not necessarily a point that makes me want to wear this outfit ever again for all the days of my life. (I hate boobs, in case you didn’t know.)

I should’ve changed the entire getup right then and there, but I was already five minutes late to Bunco (intentionally, because I know all about being fashionably late, or in my case just late) but to be any later than that would’ve been awkward. So instead I threw in a hair flower in the hopes of distracting all the Bunco women from the masses under my chin.


Which it might have done, but I think in the process the flower just called more attention to the fact that I had stupidly tried to curl my too-short hair with a flat iron (a la Hairdresser on Fire) earlier that day, which really just made me look sloppy. Poor overworked flower.

Still, I do like my flower, and that’s good because there are 24 more of them where that one came from, but I’ll tell you about them tomorrow (HOORAY, TOMORROW IS NOW TODAY, and YOU CAN WIN A FLOWER HERE).

As for today, I would just like to publicly apologise to that fashionable population of humanity for falling so short of the mark.

I do try, guys.

For whatever that’s worth.

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This post is in conjunction with Niki’s What are You Wearing series over at her blog.

Hey, Niki, you never said that What We’re Wearing actually has to look good.

Posted in failures, fashion people, It's All Good, mediocrity | 9 Comments

What have I done?

by Camille Posted on September 13, 2010

I am overwhelmed.

(It’s totally obvious, and it’s only September. If my appearance deteriorates as much this semester as it did last time, I’ll be a snaggle-toothed hag by Thanksgiving.)

I think I may have finagled a way into the Jane Austen class.

But—as these things usually go—I had no sooner begged the professor for a slot in the elusive class than I felt an ulcer take residence in the centre of my stomach lining. Six full-length Austen novels to read? On top of Literary Theory, Art History, six other Victorian novels, and a creative writing class? And driving to campus (no small feat, for it’s a forty-five minute commute one way, and icy roads are looming around every weather forecast) four days a week whereas before I’ve only ever gone two days? And racing home three of those four days to teach piano lessons?

When will I have time to read, and research, and write?

Perhaps I should’ve left well enough alone.

Yet I know that if I hadn’t tried everything in my power to get into that class (a class that only comes around once every three years), I would’ve regretted it to the end of my days.

So maybe this will be a heinous semester. But it’s really only a few months, and then it’ll be done. I can wake up a bit earlier, go to bed at 10:00 every night, double up my daily dosage of DDP. I can do hard things, and I can rock at them.

And anyway, it’s not a sure thing that I’ll even get the Austen class.

But I’m resting easier knowing that I’ve done everything in my power, and if God deems that I should take a class on my favourite author of all time, Dude’ll make it happen. And if He knows myself better than I do (not unlikely), and foresees that it would be the death of me, He’ll see to it that I am good and thwarted.

Truly, though, it could be worse.

I could be enrolled in a math class.

Posted in Canada, my edjumacation and me | 8 Comments

Saturday Steals Recap

by Camille Posted on September 13, 2010

Hi.

Here’s what my nine—NINE, is that an all-time high or what?—lovely readers stole over the weekend:

Chloe got a bunch of awesome stuff, including this fluorescent light bulb, for FREE.

Ros got a book (and a reflection on her childhood years) for 25 pence. (PENCE! Pence are so much better than cents! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ENGLISH.)

Nain got to listen to live music (and have a sweet date) for $1. (We want pictures, Nain!)

A mystery participant (I have my suspicions as to the author, but as it is yet unconfirmed, I cannot publish them) hails the glories of Netflix on Demand for his marital presence of mind. (We want pictures, Mystery Man!)

Molly got an adorable sundress free as a pregnancy gift just when she needed it most—in the Arizona heat. (Hooray for purple and perfect timing!)

Amiee said that a new Saturday Steals is coming soon. Whether this is a new Saturday Steals post to add to my party, or a new-and-improved Saturday Steals party of her own (stealing my idea—that would be the sneakiest steal ever) remains to be seen. I mean, really, it could go either way. We shall wait with baited breath…

Niki got these ADORABLE wooden slash aluminum chairs from an estate sale for FIVE DOLLARS EACH—and one of them rocks. (Well, they both rock, but one is a rocking chair.) I’m jeal (which is pronounced “jell,” not “jeel,” in case you aren’t bilingual in trendy short-talk like me).

Liz (a self-proclaimed geek and Apple™ enthusiast) scored a rare Apple T-shirt for free just for being third in line for a new Apple store grand opening. Having never been to an Apple store grand opening (and having just watched Pirates of Silicon Valley with PK), I found her experience to be a fascinating read—do check it out!

And Lindsay (private blog, I’m sorry to say) showcased her ADORABLE autumn mantle, all of which was created with purchases from dollar stores, clearance shelves, and Goodwill (my kind of decor)! Beautiful.

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As for me, school is in full swing.

I still haven’t gotten the Jane Austen class, but I have two more days to live in the blessed fantasy of it.

Something tells me that September 15th is going to bring a crushing blow upon my tender little undergraduate skull.

Send Ace bandages.

Posted in my edjumacation and me, Saturday Steals | 2 Comments

Saturday Steals: Change of Fortune

by Camille Posted on September 10, 2010

Hello, and welcome to another rousing round of Saturday Steals!

To participate, simply:

1) Steal a steal.

2) Write a post about it on your blog, mentioning that you’re participating in Saturday Steals (you can steal the above image if you so desire), and

3) Add the link to said post to the list at the bottom of this post.

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A few days ago I got a call from a nice lady here in Mayberry. She was wondering if I wanted to come to her house as a last-minute fill-in for Bunco the next evening.

For those of you who don’t know what Bunco is…you should look it up.

But if you can’t be bothered with such trivialities, just imagine Bunco as a sort of bridge club, except instead of cards there are dice, and instead of geriatric denture-wearers leisurely sipping sweet tea there are twelve exhausted housewives convening after putting the kiddos to bed switching between three different tables every two minutes or so.

It’s fast-paced. It’s insane. And it’s lots of fun.

The Bunco routine is quite complicated, and any attempt at explaining it would fall terribly short, I’m sure, but the regulars have it down to a fine art. Every player brings $12, which goes into a pot to pay for snacks and prizes—everyone gets to eat the snacks, but only four women leave with prizes. I still don’t know quite how it all works, because my brain immediately turns to stone when forced to deal with any series of numbers (I can spell onomatopoeia backwards in French with nothing but my bare tongue, but ask me to add double-digit numbers and I will sit there looking at my fingers for the answers like I used to back in third grade).

ANYWAY…the evening turned out to be really fun. Not only did I get to meet some nice new ladies (women? girls? I never know how to classify myself and my peers), but none of them even snubbed me! (I confess I was expecting to be snubbed—not because Mayberry has such an abundance of snobbish women/girls/ladies, but because of my inability to be cool in any sort of female group situation.) I even left feeling warm inside, like I had just made a few new friends.

Then again, that may’ve been gas—not altogether unlikely, considering the inordinate quantities of Russel Stover sugar-free chocolate I consumed during the two hours I was there (curse you, Maltitol).

But no, I think it really was the camaraderie.

At any rate, new friends are fine and dandy, but the REAL score of the night was this:

Approximately one second before the bell rang to end the final round of the night, I rolled triple sixes—which was a Bunco—and made mine the last Bunco of the evening.

And apparently, in Bunco, that’s just the sort of dice-rolling coup that lands a girl a $30 gift certificate to the local hair salon.

That’s more than a 50% return on my investment! [I think. Quick, someone with a brain: crunch the numbers for me.]

Considering my fringe has had me looking suspiciously like a Sesame Street costume for the past month or so…

…I’d call that a steal.

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Now it’s your turn! Add your steal to the link list below. It will be open from now till Sunday at 11:59 p.m:


Posted in friends, It's All Good, Saturday Steals | 8 Comments

Birds of a Feather

by Camille Posted on September 8, 2010

Today I had the pleasure of talking to my mother on the phone when we were both feeling rather depressed. You’ve never heard so glum a conversation as the one between my mother and myself when we’re both blue. It went something like this:

Mom: How was your first day back at school? Did you get the Jane Austen class?

Me: It was vile.

Mom: Oh, I thought it might be.

Me: And no, I didn’t get Jane. I’ve given up hope.

Mom: Sometimes that’s the best attitude. It’s just like the fish in the tank.

Me: What?

Mom: You know—fish in the tank. When you first put fish into a tank they swim around frantically trying to escape. They slam their heads into the glass over and over and over until finally they lose all will to live, and then they don’t even bother anymore. Then, once their spirits have been sufficiently crushed, even if they are put back into open water, they still don’t try to swim for freedom.

Me: That’s exactly the point I’ve gotten to. I mean, what can I expect, really? I have long since given up hope of actually enjoying myself at that miserable place.

Mom: I know what you mean. You can ram your head into a glass wall only so many times before it finally becomes prudent to quit. Today I told all of my coworkers, point-blank, that I hate my job.

Me: Really? What did they say?

Mom: They just looked at me.

Me: Huh. Just like the fish, Mom… Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have a pap smear appointment on Friday.

Mom: That does make me feel better. Misery loves company.

Me: Yeah, I know—I only told you because you sound so glum and I thought you could use a nice bit of bad news.

Mom: Thanks. It helped. And you know, your exam is going to be especially bad because it’s a Friday and they’ll be ready to go home.

Me: Yeah.

Mom: They’ll probably rush through it. I bet it will hurt a lot.

Me: Yeah.

Mom: Yeah—a lot.

Me: Well, I have to go read five dry novels before I go to bed, so I’d better hang up now.

Mom: Okay.

Me: I would tell you that I hope you cheer up but I know that would be futile. Instead, I’ll just tell you that I hope you maintain, and that your misery doesn’t get any worse.

Mom: Thank you—you couldn’t have worded a better sentiment for me tonight.

Me: It’s just a gift I have.

I love my mother. She and I are so completely different, but so very much alike.

I suppose that in a few days—maybe a week—I’ll find the will to live again, and to be cheerful about it all. But just now, just for a while, I want to relish the misery of a good gloom.

Not a very big gloom, mind you.

But big enough.

Posted in family, my edjumacation and me, woe is me | Tagged | 9 Comments