The Hair Room

My house was built by a man who has difficulty growing facial hair. I can tell this because there are no electical outlets in either of our bathrooms.

When I first moved in in December, I was made aware of the fact that I woul have to blow-dry, straighten, and curl my hair in my room. This can be nuisance when you have limited outlets, shelf space of mirror space lining up with the other two, and I have all three. Doing your hair on your bed while consulting the mirror on the closet door across the room is a nuisance; especially when you are paranoid like me and always think that if you're not careful setting down your curling iron, you will set your sheets on fire.

When Janine moved out in February, we had no one to take her spot, and her room (the one next door to mine) was left empty. After about a week, I looked at my messy room and did not want to face digging my way through to an outlet so I could straighten my hair. Looking at the empty one next to me with an outlet in easy reach of the mirrored closet door, I figured why not, and set up camp with my flat iron inside. Because I am such a neat and tidy person, I decided to leave the flat iron there with hairspray, a brush, and several bobby pins for company. No one else was using the room right away, and if anyone came by to see the room, I would just move it quickly.

The situation was simply too convenient, and so, for the past few months, Janine's old room has been dubbed; the Hair Room - where it's only real function is a place to straighten, curl, and blow-dry.


I think I make use of extra space nicely. I mean how many people can boast that they once in their life had a room entirely devoted to doing their hair?

Lawyer Kate: There is No Nice Ring to It

I always like to make fun of stupid news. I really thought I had seen it all when Dickens' fictional orphan was exposed as being well fed; making a scandal out the line "Please sir, can I have some more?"

Then today happened.

I arrived at work to find the paper on the table in the back room. My coworker Delby and I like to do the crossword, but we don't like to pay for the paper, so our choices usually go to MetroNews and the Calgary Sun; which are both more of advertising catalogues than newspapers. Still, the Sun usually has a few updates on what is going on in the world. You can imagine my surprise then, when I say today's front page headline.

Apparently, there is a lawyer in Calgary who looks like Kate Middleton. A few people have stopped her on the street wondering if she really is our future queen. This also makes sense because if I was about to marry a prince in Westminster Abbey next week, I know I would be hanging out in Calgary.

According to the Sun, this lawyer's name is Kate, has long brown hair, and lives in a British-style house. That is where the similarities stop.

I am pretty sure I ranted about the non-newsiness of this for twenty minutes before I remembered it was just the Sun.

Then I came home and googled the story. Imagine my surprise when I found the same story reported by the Calgary Herald.

What I wonder the most is how this "story" even came to the attention of the media. Did Kate the Lawyer call the Herald and Sun and say "I look like Kate Middleton sort-of-not-really. You should abandon the federal election and other news do feature me." What the hay?

Seriously, we are in the middle of an election, the verdict was just given on the murder trial of two children, and yet the story we led with was a girl who looks like Kate Middleton but not really?

Oh Calgary.

I Hope They Have These Brownies In Heaven

One night this week, my roommate Lou got home around 10:30; shortly after I arrived home and just as our other roommate Jessica was ending a date. Lou came home with a very important purchase; milk chocolate chips. Somehow through our conversation as we all summarized our days, the agreement was made that we would have to use them to make brownies right then and there.

I rushed to change out of work clothes and into pajamas covered with an apron, and when I returned, Lou had pulled out the brownie recipe she had just been bragging about. When I saw the title on the top of the index card, I did a double take.

Celestial Brownies?! Who names their brownies after heaven? I mean, always claim that salmon is the food of the gods, but really? Celestial Brownies? Just what was in this recipe?

Lou explained the story as we mixed together the ingredients. The brownies in the past had simply been called "Chocolate Chip Brownies," but then one day, she had been making them with a friend. This friend was just learning about our religion, and our take on heaven, or the Celestial Kingdom. When this friend first tasted these brownies she raved about them, describing them as a bit of heaven, and celestial-tasting. Naturally, a new, much more interesting name for these brownies was born.

With this guarantee, we concluded it was a very good idea to all stay up till midnight baking brownies even when we all had early mornings ahead of us. I love little roommate moments like this.

And to answer your question, yes; the brownies were very celestial-tasting. Here is the recipe, courtesy of Lou.

4 eggs

3 cups brown sugar

1 cup melted butter

2 cup flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp vanilla

Combine ingredients and pour into a greased 9x13 pan. Sprinkle with milk chocolate chips. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-30 minutes. These brownies are food of the gods!