Haircut, Japanese styles

More everyday activities that I voluntarily turn into a blitz of cultural confusion.

I hadn't had a haircut in a while - like I mentioned, I decided to grow out my bob last fall to take advantage of my last long-haired years and therefore only got my brother in law's mother (who is a hairdresser) give me a few layers so that it would grow out without looking like, well, a grown-out bob. Since she did that in October, I haven't had a haircut.

Do most people harbour the same fear/dread/awkwardness I have of hairdressers, whereby you feel a sense of nervousness heading into the appointment? I definitely have that. Something about putting your whole appearance into the hands of a semi-stranger freaks the crap out of me. And yes, I do think hair makes your whole appearance. It really really makes you look different, and can really take you down a few notches on the superficial attractiveness scale. I once told Keith that he would be one cool dude if he would only stop wearing his hair like a lego-man, and that his lego hair took him down from a good 8.5 to a 6. He said I was mean. True as that may be, I stand by what I said. And don't you all start judging me either. I can name a half dozen of you at least who have said to him or me since he started having a hairstyle how much better he looks. I merely voiced, as his Partner of Honesty, what y'all were thinking. In fact I should get a medal.

Anyways, I do think it is nutso that we let someone have that much control over us who we don't know at all, cannot be certain shares our tastes, cannot be certain has any skills whatsoever (there's no certification in hairdressing is there?) and cannot be certain will listen to us or even understands our instructions on what we want. My fear of hairdressers also probably derives itself from never having had a regular hairstylist, as well as some pretty bad hair experiences in my most self-conscious teenage years. I absolutely remember when I was 12 the hairstylist giving me a bowl cut and then cut my fringe (bangs! I mean bangs!) so it was a good two inches above my eyebrows, which I'm sorry, always makes you look a bit mentally challenged. (Wow this post is getting less and less PC by the sentence). When you're just about to become a teenager that is NOT the style you're going for.  I totally remember during that haircut the woman also SLASHED MY FACE with the scissors and I was too cowardly to make a fuss (I was 12! I sat in that chair and did what I was told, including suffering injuries without comment!) but definitely got an angry red mark on my face afterward to prove it, which even scabbed over slightly afterwards.  When I was 23 I also got a perm, having gotten bored of having long-straight hair for 10 years. While I liked it at the time, everytime I see a pic from those old days I wonder what the hell I was thinking. I looked like an ugly step-mermaid.

So the last few times I've tried a new hairstylist I have always gotten recommenations from friends. In London Taryn introduced me to her hairstylist, a Chinese guy called Jay who was brilliant, he gave me my first graduated bob and I really liked it. He really knew how to style hair to suit your face shape. Too bad he disappeared and stopped cutting hair, Taryn, her mom, and I were all devestated. After that I used Kate's hairstylist at Clapham Junction Rush - nothing to write home about. I also occasionally engaged my bro-in-law's mom's services (once in a cruise ship cabin bathroom, when during a family holiday she couldn't handle that my straggly hair was almost down to my waist), but she's mostly retired and I thought with me being permanently based here it was time I got a proper regular hairdresser. So I asked Stef for her recommendation and she directed me to Misako Hair Salon and her hairstylist, Mako.

Misako is an all-Japanese run hair salon, and I can't decide if it is trendy or not. On the one hand, they are all Japanese. Tick on the trendy side. On the other hand, they are not based in a fancy location. Tick on the non-trendy side. Then, their shop is quite low frills - no receptionist, no computer booking system, unfinished concrete floor, one long mirror on the wall rather than a bunch of little stations, and each of the stylists wear their tools on themselves in different ways - Mako had a little cross-body purse, while the girl next to her had what looked like a toolbelt, and yet another had what looked like a fanny pack. I couldn't decide if this was low-key or deliberately minimalist trendy. Tick on both trendy and non-trendy list. Anyway Mako gave me a very nice haircut (I wasn't asking for anything crazy) but along the way a few points in the process made me giggle as usual. First, while she was washing my hair (I love getting my hair washed and my head rubbed by professionals), she held the ends of my long wet hair and then slapped them against the top of my head repeatedly. Wap wap wap wap. It didn't hurt but I felt a little bit abused. Then, when we sat back down in the hair-cut chair, she said "You like massage?" and I was super confused. Is this the small talk bit? Is she offering me one? Where? Here? On what part of me? Huh? So I just giggled and said "uh.. yes?" and then she proceeded to massage my heck and shoulders. Again, damn these little Asian women have strong hands. The massage ended with her holding her hands together like she was praying and then slapping the fist onto my shoulders. LOUD. more WAP WAP WAP. I almost giggled again. Overall very happy with Mako's work and will definitely go back for more wapping in 6-8 weeks!

Side rant: why on earth have we cultivated this expectation that we need to become best friends with our hairdressers? Why do they insist on prying our life stories out of us and telling us theirs, resulting in awkward small talk while they wield scissors around your head? You don't need to where I live, work, and play to give me layers and an overall 1-inch trim off the length. I don't really want to know about your life either. Just get on with it in silence.

An Evening Well Spent

I'm very new at being a full-time aunt, rather than a twice-a-year-I'll-take-you-for-icecream-every-day aunt. It's summer holidays so my niece and nephew have spent a few nights sleeping over at my parents' house this week. Too bad I've been working 11 days straight and getting home dead tired!

Tonight however, I got off at 6 and was able to spend the whole evening with them. My nephew was right away on the ipad games all night, and unfortunately rather than wrestle it from him and having two of them to deal with (which 100% of the time leads to bickering, pinching, fighting, and toys breaking) I just let him do what he enjoys while I drew pictures with my niece. Things were going fine and dandy when we were drawing animals, mine were very cartoony but nothing to be ashamed of. But then Kaylie insisted we draw pictures of each other. So we did, and both spent ages trying to perfect it, and while what she produced, I'll keep forever, what I produced, I suspect will go straight into the fireplace when her mom gets her hands on it:

The funniest part was when Kaylie said to me "Is it ok if I draw your freckles so it looks more like you?" Sure Kaylie, sure they are freckles. Not age spots on my poorly-taken-care-of-skin. Not at all.

Then she drew a picture of her brother. The likeness is uncanny:

Oh no! I've forgotten my sister's rule on not having her kids' pictures on the internet! I better make some alterations:

Chinese Ladies Can't Have Long Hair

Conversation overheard in the kitchen between two Chinese women, one in her early 30's, one middle-aged (too scared to guess and later be found out to have guessed wrong).

Younger Chinese Lady: [Name], did you get a hair cut?

Older Chinese Lady: No, I didn't!

*May at her desk furrows her eyebrows in confusion as she had also thought that OCL had gotten a haircut

YCL: Oh really?

OCL: No but I need to colour it. All the grays! But also need to get haircut, need to keep it short!

YCL: Haha, is that why women keep their hair short? To make it easier to colour the grays?

OCL: No! It because long hair on old women makes you look even older!

YCL: I never knew that! Does it really?

OCL: YES. You know why. It drags your face down. You know, when you are old, your face is droopy. Long hair drags the face down and makes it even droopier. Must have short hair.

YCL: Hahahaha! You face is not droopy. But I better cut my hair too then!

OCL: No you still young. You enjoy your long hair.

YCL: Well I better cut it in 5 years then.

OCL: Make it 10! Make it 10.

May's conclusion: I was right to grow my hair out again while I still can, in my 30's. Much as I loved my bob and actually mostly miss it, I know that my long hair days are numbered. I don't want my face to sag with my saggy hair.  Who was it that laughed at me when I explained this to them last year when I said I was growing my hair again? Oh yea. ALL OF YOU non-Chinese non-understanders.

Vindicated.

Terracotta soldiers

Working 8 days in a row means that there’s not a lot of exciting news to share. However I it does mean that I have been walking the same route from the skytrain to the office everyday, and I have been passing a particular painted terracotta soldier for a month now. I have noticed painted terracotta soldiers all over the city – I have no idea what they are for, but I would guess that the travelling terracotta artifacts that China has put on exchange with museums all over the world must have visited Vancouver at some point and the city must have heralded the event with its own set of painted terra cotta soldiers and decided they liked them so darn much they’d plop them all over the city.

I myself did not see the Terracotta soldiers when they came to the British Museum a few years back, because I’d seen them already, strangely, in Malta. Keith and I were there on holiday (our first holiday together as a couple!) over Easter 2007 and we had massively failed in accounting for the fact that Malta is a fairly Catholic country and therefore over Easter there was nada open. The heritage museum (quite tiny, much like the entire country) was open though and they were hosting the travelling Terracotta soldiers! I was beyond excited because I’d always wanted to see them, and if there’s one place in China I’d like to travel to (and probably the only place, except MAYBE Beijing for the Great Wall and the Forbidden City), it’s Xian for the Terracotta soldiers. I love archaeology – I’m not very knowledgeable about it or anything, but something about digging up long lost treasures from a lost time really captures my imagination (I guess it does for everyone else as well and hence all those Indiana Jones movies - that fourth one with the crystal skull was horrible). That’s why I would count the Acropolis at Athens as a top travelling experience (despite the rest of Athens seeming to be a bit of a sh*thole), and am still gutted that I haven’t made it to the Giza pyramids or Valley of the Kings in Egypt yet (but I will, I swear I will!).

Anyways as usual I digress.  So this one terracotta soldier I keep passing, I had noticed had lots of animals on it. But today I finally noticed the giant rat on the leg:

And I thought – ew! Why would you choose a rat to paint? They are gross! Then I realized… that they are all the animals from the Chinese zodiac! Of course, my sign, the monkey, features prominently, because that’s how COOL I am. Monkeys are the best. Only elephants beat them in cool-ness  but elephants are not part of the Chinese zodiac.  Here’s the back of the statue so you can see all of the animals.

Seeing the Chinese zodiac animals reminded me how this year is year of the Dragon, and a lot of crazy Chinese people (which is most Chinese people) have been gunning for a baby this year because that would make their baby a dragon baby. Dragons are considered very good luck and are associated with celebration – at all Chinese weddings the head table / stage is usually decorated with a dragon and a phoenix (representing a groom and a bride, respectively). We are one superstitious race.  Besides my new niece Eloisa, I know three dragon babies imminently arriving this year – Taryn will have to renege her Saffa culture for a millisecond and celebrate her dragon baby when little baby Selvon arrives in August. Gasp, and Karen has been struggling to agree on a baby name with her hubby – how about Dragonball???

p.s. i can't figure out what the animal on his front right leg is. is that a komodo dragon or something, because the artist felt a need to use real animals and dragons aren't real???

Sunday Treat Rejected

7th day at work in a row - with 5 more to go... hmm... usually need less weekend days for a Sky year-end.

Here is the latest temptation sitting next to me in the kitchen.

Cream-filled donuts rolled in sugar! They are supposed to be more "light" but I don't see how if they are full of cream. I am no donut snob and good ol' Timmy Horton's is good enough for the common man and it's good enough for me. So thankfully I am not really tempted at all. Is it gross though that I picked one up and sniffed it?? (I PICKED IT UP WITH THE TONGS!!!)

It's brilliantly sunny outside and going to get up to the mid 20's today in Vancouver!! You would think that would depress me since I'm at work but actually since I'm not very outdoorsy but appreciate sunshine through the window, it is actually putting me in a good mood.

Back to the sub-consolidation that won't sub-consolidate. Bleh.

Food Coma, and Life Possessions on the Sea

Holy moley.

I've only been eating healthy (really only just healthier, it's all relative) for about 3 weeks, but I guess your body gets used to your changes pretty quickly because today was a BAD lunch day, and i'm paying the price. Badly.

It was sandwiches from Hubbub, and it was oh-so-delicious but much too heavy for lunch. I had a pulled pork sandiwch and I didn't even finish it, but I also had more than half a chocolate chip cookie (mmm gooey and delicious) but now I'm really feeling the effects on my energy, which is at level zero if not negative. It's only 1pm and I'm feeling so sluggish 5:00 feels like it's three days away.

Another nice thing about these free lunches at work is that they often order in from various eateries that are close by downtown and are frequented by adventurous lunchers. I intend to introduce Keith to quite a few of these once he gets here. Our Real Life, when will you start? I despair.

Besides Hubbub, the free office lunch has introduced me to Steamrollers, which are burritos which are allegedly healthier because they are steam cooked, American Cheesesteak Co, which also has a hilarious little webpage here, as well as a myriad of Vietnamese, Indian, Mexican, and Chinese (although I rejected the Chinese food, it was lemon chicken. Lemon chicken is not, I repeat, is NOT, Chinese food) eateries. I can't name those because the intranet lunch menu did not deign them worthy of shout-out.

I don't know who decides the menu but I may suggest they order one day from Holy Perogy, which is a food truck serving perogies that, despite one effort made so far (whereby I forced Stef to walk with me down to their truck spot only to find they weren't there that day), I have not yet tried.

In other news, all our material posessions have now made it out of a warehouse in London and onto the seas! 6 weeks or so before the arrive and I get to worry about dealing with bloody [shipping company name withheld, due to excessive anger and no desire to be sued] to get the goods released and make sure nothing's broken! Oh and then deal with Canadian Border Customs Agency to clear all the goods from any taxation... wait the dread that comes with the prospect has just cancelled all my glee of seeing the 20+ pairs of shoes that I'm waiting to wear again.

Rock Band

My weekend adventures have further demonstrated to me that I have zero coordination.  I played Rock Band with my friend Elg on the weekend, which we somehow managed to do for 5 straight hours, only stopping when I basically was like, I should go home, it's 1am!

I used to be really good on DDR (that's Dance Dance Revolution to you gaming ignants) so I thought that on a similar rhythm game I'd be decent. I was ok on the guitar, and that was tons of fun (especially Bon Jovi's Living on a Prayer and [artist forgotten]'s Smoke On the Water). But in the last hour I thought I'd have a go on the drums and I was DISMAL. particularly, I just could NOT get the hang of alternating between hand and foot. the foot petal might as well have been on another planet. I even tried AFTER the song with zero pressure to alternate Right hand, Foot, Left Hand, Foot, and somehow I kept on trying to do my left hand at the foot petal at the same time. It's almost as if my left hand was like - em, I usually go after the right hand, why isn't it my turn yet? What's going on? Which just goes to show me that I do absolutely nothing that requires coordination of my arms and legs. It makes sense because I play no sport, and even when I drag myself off to do some sort of exercise, it's running. It's also making sense to me now that even when sometimes I try the stair climber machines at the gym, I find it hard to get into the rhythm. My arms and legs simply refuse to talk to each other!!!!

I wonder if that is a dormant part of my brain which, from lack of use, is causing me serious mental harm from the cobwebs that seem to cover it?