Post-choreography. So hot.

Fact: In my younger days, I took 5 years of jazz dance classes. We’re talking sequins, spandex, and hair with enough AquaNet to withstand a tornado. The whole nine.

Last night, yours truly was thrust into the dancing world once again, as part of The White Hot Happening at the National Ballet’s White Hot Gala. After some incredible performances by newly promoted members of the company, as well as retiring dancer Chan Hon Goh, it was time to grab a martini and bust a few moves of my own.

And how on earth did I manage that? Like most of my crazy adventures, it was sort of by accident…

My friend Jess and I both receive emails from Dance Break, a program that makes ballet tickets more accessible to dance fans aged 16-29. I was out for coffee with another friend when I got a text message from Jess, asking me if I’d gotten the latest email, and if I wanted to go. I said I wasn’t sure, as I couldn’t actually see the email on my Blackberry, but that I’d let her know. She wisely pointed out that tickets would likely sell out quickly, due to the nature of the event and the fact that there were drinks after the performance with members of the company (ie. a super awesome night that was sure to rock our faces off). So I said, sure, yes, put me down for a ticket. Then I got back to the coffee…

When I got home that night, though, I was in for a surprise. Upon opening the actual email, I realized that this super awesome event was much more than I’d bargained for. In addition to the performance and the gala, there was going to be something called a “Happening,” which required me to go to a choreography session downtown. At the National Ballet. With Melissa Williams from So You Think You Can Dance Canada. Umm… Wait a minute. I have to dance? In front of strangers? Seriously?

Hello flashback to the early 90s! (Or Frosh Week, for that matter!)

When our choreography session rolled around in May, I walked into the studio and took a good look around. Surrounded by very fit women on all sides, I had a sudden urge to proclaim “this isn’t where I parked my car!” and run quickly out of the building. But thankfully, I stayed put. After all, how many times in my life am I going to get to learn a dance from Melissa Williams? Really now.

The choreography session was great fun—despite the presence of many video cameras—and we were asked to keep a lid on the dance so that it would be a big surprise for everyone at the White Hot Gala. And let me tell you, it was a secret worth keeping. Last night was a complete blasty blast. After a month of practice here and there, I’m happy to say that I danced my very best, and managed not to trip on my heels and face plant on the hardwood. What more could a girl ask for?

For more details on the White Hot Gala and Happening, check out this article from the Globe and Mail. And if a video of The Happening surfaces somewhere, you can be sure I’ll be posting it here as well!

Update: Here’s the video!

Anyhoo, back to The Hour. If you live in the GTA and want a great way to spend a few hours one afternoon, I highly recommend checking out a taping. Tickets are free, which makes for one very budget-friendly outing. George and Bradley Cooper in the same room, and I didn’t have to sell a kidney to be there? Life is good.

If you’re not familiar with Bradley Cooper, here is a sampling of his resume: Guest appearance on Sex and the City, “Will Tippin” on Alias (<3), The d-bag boyfriend in Wedding Crashers, The d-bag husband in He’s Just Not That Into You, and most recently, part of the hilarious cast of The Hangover (which opens June 5, and I can’t wait to see it.)

Highlights from the taping: Yours truly made it just in time, thanks to some stunning performances by the TTC. (Tangent: Why is it so hard to get a damn bus out here? I mean, really. Nothing comes for 20 minutes, and then? TWO buses going the exact same way show up simultaneously. I like a good surprise as much as the next girl, but not when it comes to public transit, thankyouverymuch.) So, being the last one in the studio, I got a chair right on the end of the aisle, meaning that in the intimate setting that is The Hour, Bradley Cooper (who my friend Sarah has dubbed “very lickable”) could have easily tripped over my purse on his way to the stage. Wouldn’t that have been lovely? “Random Girl Trips Will Tippin, Breaks His Handsome Leg.” Thankfully, that did not happen. Totally charming, very funny… Great interview. (And if you missed the awesome interview, you should absolutely check it out here.)

The other guest of the evening was Jeff Rubin, former top economist for CIBC, who explained his beliefs about how triple-digit oil prices are going to have a huge impact on our futures. Some really thought provoking stuff… And I especially liked his analogy about ping pong on a train.

I really can’t say enough good things about George Stroumboulopoulous (shocking: spell check does not like that one). He really seems to put his guests at ease in a very short amount of time. It’s really just a casual conversation that happens to take place in front of a bunch of people… and it’s pretty damn cool. Everything happens in one take; there are no do-overs. And I love that no question is off-limits (take that, Billy Bob Thornton), so you never really know what might happen. George even sticks around after the show to answer any and all questions that the audience throws his way. Check out some more of his great interviews from The Hour here.

And stay tuned this week while I play Catch Up On Life, with reports on Canada’s Wonderland, The Toronto Blue Jays, 101 in 1001, EA Sports Active… And, yes, wedding plans! (All in one week? That’s the plan!) But first? There is a bottle of wine that is calling my name…

5.  A very pregnant MIA
When you can rock a see-through top and dance around stage the day that you’re due to give birth… You get some serious respect. At the same time, though, her baby may be scarred for life after sharing a stage with a fugitive, an American Gangster, a closet bowling fanatic… and Kanye West. (I kid, I kid.)

4. Jennifer Hudson
What a year Jennifer Hudson has had. She snagged the first award of the night, her performance was simply beautiful. Understandably emotional, but she is one very strong woman. If you missed her tonight, you can check out the video here.

3. Kanye’s Mullet
I’m from Oshawa, so you’d think that a mullet would not surprise me very much, but you’d be wrong. I can handle the single glove, the high tops and even the crazy sunglasses, Kanye. It’s cool.  But the mullet is one trend I am begging you not to resurrect. Please. Think of the children.

2. Lil Wayne’s acceptance speech for Best Rap Album
I’ve been all about Lil Wayne all week, thanks to his fantastic interview with Katie Couric. At first I was thinking, “who are all these people?” but then I realized that Lil Wayne is just incredibly efficient. Rather than list of a bunch of random names, he could simply say “I’d like to thank these people right here.” My love of Lil Wayne now knows no bounds. And his performance? Excellent.

1. John Mayer’s live updates on Twitter
Okay, yes, I am biased. I think we all know the level of my appreciation for John Mayer. But I just think it’s so damn cool that in 2009, as I’m hanging out in flannel PJs, watching the Grammy Awards on TV, I’m also reading live Twitter updates from one of my favourite artists who happens to be at the very event I’m watching. (Props to BlackBerry, too. Sorry I was such a hater back in 2006.)

I also HAVE to mention how happy I am that Adele took home a few awards this year. Her album, 19, is phenomenal. If you haven’t heard it, head on over to her MySpace page and check it out. Brilliant!

Now, hit me… What were your favourite moments of the 2009 Grammy Awards?

When I was in university, reading books was practically my sole mission in life (a dream come true when you’re a major bookworm) since I was working on a BA in English Literature. The only down side was that if it wasn’t on a syllabus, I didn’t have time for it… So now I have a lot of catching up to do. Like figuring out who this Harry Potter chap is, anyway.

Now that I’m on the path to life as a bona-fide “grown-up” (eek!), I’ve found that I don’t make nearly as much time for my books as I used to. It’s like a great friendship that’s drifted over the years – we started hanging out less and less, and before I knew it, they weren’t returning my calls. Or e-mails. Or singing candygrams.

But, it’s a whole new year, and in 2009 I’m determined to get my relationship with books back on track. I hope to work my way through quite a stack this year – new titles, old must-reads and a few classics for good measure. Here are a few new finds that I’m really looking forward to:

• The Optimist: One Man’s Search for the Brighter Side of Life by Laurence Shorter
• Rockabye: From Wild to Child by Rebecca Woolf 
• Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate by Brad Warner
• Down to This: Squalor and Splendour in a Big-city Shantytown by Shaughnessy Bishop-Stall
• Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote

Now, I mean “fan” in the sense that I really enjoy his music and own every CD he’s released to date. I’m not lurking in the bushes outside his house, or hoping that he’ll let me have his baby. That falls under the category of “stalker of biblical proportions.” Plus, it’s just plain creepy. So take note, the Mayer Love is rooted firmly in music. The fact that I find him to be an attractive man is really just a bonus…

While I love that so many people have been turned on to his music, to be honest, I think I preferred the days when John Mayer was not yet a household name. Back when he was just doing his thing and putting out albums, and no one paid much attention to his personal life. When he was making more music than headlines. Those were the days.

I know that all celebs fall into the paparazzi trap sooner or later, but I’m getting a bit tired of reading “John Mayer is a player” and “John Mayer is a d-bag” on every magazine cover and website I come across these days. Whatever happened to “John Mayer is a great musician,” or “John Mayer just put out a killer new album“? Maybe he’s just too big now. Bigger than your body, indeed, John.

By now, everyone knows that John Mayer is dating Jennifer Aniston. I’m sure if you stumbled upon that newly discovered tribe in the Amazon, they’d know. And it’s turned into a bit of a circus, really. But not the good kind of circus with clowns and acrobats and deliciously cheap bags of popcorn. It’s the ugly, Hollywood kind of circus that makes you wish you’d never hear a person’s name again for a very, very long time. (Case in point: whatever happened to Dakota Fanning? Yeah. I don’t know, either. That’s The Circus.)

Seriously though, can’t two people just date each other and be happy without ending up on the cover of every gossip mag there is? Apparently not. And just when I thought the stories couldn’t get any more a) inappropriate and b) ridiculous, along comes the new issue of OK! Magazine with the story of the year… Jennifer and John are getting married. In the fall. In a charming backyard ceremony. And somehow, the good people at OK! Magazine are in the loop on all the details.

In fact, I bet they’re the only people in the loop on the details.

I believe it may be time for OK! to re-think their definition of the words “World Exclusive.” Because really, when you fabricate a story and spread it around via the cover of your glossy mag, it’s not so much a “world exclusive,” as it is you being the only publication with the story, because no one else knows about it, because you made the entire thing up yourselves. (But hey, I could be wrong about this one. If so, I will gladly be the first to purchase a brand new, 10-speed, high-performance blender for the happy couple. In a colour of their choosing. I’d go with stainless steel, but that’s just me.)

Either way, I will likely never understand what motivates people to buy celebrity magazines or take delight in the drama of the rich and famous. All I really want to know when the next album is coming out. Because that’s what being a fan is all about.

Kicking my Lancaster habit is unlikely to happen any time soon, as all three of her novels are on my Summer Reading list. It’s just toting them around in public that seems to get me into trouble… and by “trouble” I mean “hopelessly awkward situations with random men I’ve never met before.”

I give you Exhibit A:

I’m riding home on the bus (like the TTC Goddess that I am) and indulging in one of my favourite bus riding activities: catching up on books I promised myself I would finally read. This time, it’s Bright Lights, Big Ass (which you need to buy immediately, if you haven’t already done so.) I’m enjoying it so much that I don’t have time to stash it in my gigantic Mom Purse before I exit at my regular stop.

Imagine my surprise when a complete stranger says to me, “Hello beautiful lady, are you enjoying that book you’ve got there?” (I kid you not. That is actually what he said. But wait. It gets better.)

Me: “Yes, I am!” (I smile, but keep walking.)

He: “Well hold on a minute, let me see it.”

See now, this is the part where any normal person would likely say “I’m sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush,” or “I really can’t chat, I’ve just gone into labour.” Something. ANYTHING. Anything except “Sure.”

Me: “Sure.” (Another smile. Why must I smile so much?!)

He: (Reading the title) Bright. Lights. Big. Ass. (Pause) Do you think that you have a big ass? (See? I told you it gets better.)

Me: “Well, I’d like to think that I don’t…”

He: “Well, I think that you have a perfectly reasonable, medium-sized ass.” (This may actually be the strangest and yet most lovely compliment that I’ve received in my entire life. A medium-sized ass… what more can a girl ask for?)

Me: “Oh… um… thank you!”

He: “My name is Rupert. Who are you, beautiful lady?”

…And this right here, is the part where any normal person would make something up on the fly. Fudge the truth a bit. Tell a little fib. Lie their face off… Alice, Agnes, Alexis, Frank. Something. ANYTHING. Anything except…

Me: “Alicia.” (D’oh!)

(We shake hands)

He: “Well, Alicia. It’s very nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy your book. You remember me, now… and give a holler the next time you see me.”

Me: “Oh, I will! Thank you! Have a great day, Rupert!”

–

And that is how Rupert from Weston became my new BFF. Thanks, Jen Lancaster.

Note to self: Start wearing iPod and sunglasses at all times. And maybe give up smiling. Or at least learn to lie.

And now, because I love a good story… I’m turning it over to you guys. What’s the craziest thing a stranger has ever said to you? There’s bound to be some hilarious tales out there… so let’s hear ‘em!

Seriously. Bumper cars. Dri Weave. I couldn’t make this up even if I tried…

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think that Always products are pretty darn great (and Tampax, too, since I’m over-sharing). It’s just their marketing that I’ve never really understood… Particularly the whole “Have a happy period” slogan. Are you freaking kidding me? A happy period? It’s more like, “Have a non-homicidal period, and we’ll give you a big bag of Double Stuf Oreos.” Now THAT is some effective marketing right there.

But advertising for feminine products just isn’t like that, is it? Instead, we have to endure the happy, smiling faces of women who I’m convinced don’t even GET their periods. Which leaves me with one burning question: Who comes up with the advertising concepts for these things, anyway? I’d like to tell them that their dream of women in white pants, doing cartwheels through a field of daisies, is about as realistic as David Suzuki speeding down the Trans-Canada Highway in a Hummer, tossing baby seals out his rear window.

(And don’t even get me started on their web site. “Hey! You’re in pain and your face is breaking out! Want to make a Zen Garden? Iron images of cupcakes onto your Granny Panties? Come on! It’ll be fun!”)

No, when we get our periods, the majority of us are NOT having a grand old time. We’re clad in sweat pants and throwback t-shirts from the 80s, wanting nothing more than to chow down on the world’s biggest chocolate bar, and chase it with a good dose of salt from McDonalds. We’re bloated, we’re crampy, and there’s nothing happy about it. In fact, the only reason we’d even consider doing a cartwheel is from the sheer joy that once again, those of us who don’t wish to be pregnant have succeeded in our quest for a childless existence.

Perhaps one day Always will come out of their Candy Land-haze and come up with a catchy, more realistic slogan… Like “Always. We’re happy you’re not pregnant, too…”

Hey, a girl can dream.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with some sweat pants and a bag of M&Ms.