Last night we decided to connect with the outside world and actually turn on the TV. We are still under the mistaken impression we can survive indefinitely without cable, so we have our rabbit ears and 2 static-ridden channels to choose from.
Last night, we chose CBC. And in a shocking stroke of luck, the home of such stink-o-saurs as Sophie was showing The Pink Panther. I haven't seen this film since I was about seven, and I have to say, I got a lot more out of it at 35. It was absurdly funny, and Robert Wagner was so adorable that it's almost impossible to believe that he spent almost another half-century afterwards becoming MORE adorable! But enough about that. For now.
What has thrown me right off is what my brain started doing just a few minutes into the movie. You know when you hear a musician you like doing a live version of a song you know really well from the album? And you know how your brain sort of automatically adds in all the extra Oh-Yeahs and Ooh-Ohhs that get left out of the live version? Well, that's what my brain kept doing during this movie. Every time Peter Sellers walked into a wall or got doused with water, my brain kept suddenly conjuring up the sound of my father laughing loudly. My dad likes the physical comedy. Just a little.
But my brain has also been helpful this week! Remember my utterly useless homemade pink ball gown? And how I wanted to make several more because it was so easy and flattering? It took a few days, but this weekend my brain suddenly realized that I could use the same general pattern to make several (thousand) tunic-length tops! Ones that could realistically be worn with jeans, and cover up my flabby mid-section! My formal dress pattern is suddenly a functional pattern for a stay-at-home mom! And I owe it all to my brain! I have a feeling no housework will be happening here until I get this out of my system.
I tested my theory on the pink dress, cutting it down to a tunic length, and I'm happy with the result. Also, cutting off most of the skirt left me with enough fabric to make myself another top, which I've pictured here (no more horrifying boob shots. That's my written guarantee.). I'm really happy with my new discovery because there's nothing more satyisfying than taking something completely useless and re-crafting it into something that can actually be utilized.
And somewhere out there in the universe, Molly Ringwald is feeling a confusing, inexplicable sense of pride right now...
Happy Long Weekend, my fellow Canadians!