I woke early, just before six, and thought it was Tuesday; it was not; it was today, i.e. Saturday. I got up and thought, O I know, I will do the washing the ironing etc, have a shower, have a cup of coffee and maybe a boiled egg, and then I will go to the hairdresser and get the weird hair clump left over from the Amsterdam haircut cut out.
It didn't go well. The washing machine, which is cheap and accessed from the top, spun out of control and forced the water pipe to spring gleefully from its rear, causing a low-level flood. I mopped it up and thought, O I know, I will have a shower now. The tap ($600) came off in my hand and the water went all over the walls. I thought, O I know, I will have a cup of coffee. I put the coffee pot on (I have written of this before, many years ago), but before I could place it on the ring, the handle came off in my hand.
I had a go on some Wet Wipes and a cold tap and went to the hairdresser, which is precisely 2 minutes' walk from my house. On the list:
Let me explain.
Eyebrow tidy
Fuck knows there's not much going right when it comes to my physical appearance, but my eyebrows have always been clear and unexcitable. I am afraid of 'tidying' them myself, though, as there is not much room for error; every 5 years or so I remember this, and get someone else to do it. They always look better, but as the ladies are plucking, they ask if if I have facials and I say I have had 2 in my life, and they say, but how is this possible?, as if I have said I have never had a bath. I will not go in to my theory on skincare (don't fuck about with it, use lots of moisturiser, people squeezing your blackheads is weird), but I think I left with a verbal agreement to go back so they can "cleanse my skin for the better accommodation of product". I am unlikely to honour the contract.
Colour
When I was about 21 I got a weird hormonal thing I and I got very fat and my hair (which until then had been thick and slippy) got thin and crap. That was OK but I am 42 now which means the colour is fading. I wouldn't care if I was going grey - in fact I would like it - but the colour of my hair is that of "un souris qui est en train de mourir très lentement", as I said to Bob (in a French accent), the "Colourist Host". I therefore have it coloured a bit so I do not look like I too am a mouse who is in the process of dying very slowly.
Haircut
For some time - despite a brief foray into the 'choppy bob with fringe', which suited me but was a pain in the arse to keep looking OK - I have shared a haircut with Dan Gillespie Sells, lead singer of one-hit wonders, The Feeling. There is no point arguing; it is the best haircut for me, unless a mentalist gets her misguided scissors on it in Amsterdam and makes me look like a portly visitor from the island of Lesbos. Today it has been righted.
Anyway, I managed to get through the eyebrow and colour bit before my hairdresser pointed out that I had toothpaste all over my chin. I take consolation from the fact that it was only on my chin, but wonder that I managed to make it through an hour without a) noticing it myself; b) having it pointed out by anyone else.
It is, now it is less disastrous, a strange day. My husband, a French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist who cuts his own hair, is in Geneva sulkily ski-ing with clients he does not like, and I am alone in Montreal where I moved about 4 years ago. It is at the weekends when you are alone in a city that is only 53% home with nothing to do that you realise that your oldest friends are not in the same place as you, and you rather wish you could see them. I also wish I could still be excited by 4 inches of snow, which is what I think is falling in England at the moment. (In Montreal people don't even put their proper coats on until it is -20 and there are 3ft on the front doorstep).
I do not talk about being homesick because there is no point; whining about it doesn't change anything, but still, I am feeling the distance and wondering if there is anything I can do about it, short of installing videoconferencing facilities (with conference phone option) in the sitting rooms of all dear friends and sending out a meeting request for a status meeting.
In other news, here is a film you should watch. I found it very funny.
It didn't go well. The washing machine, which is cheap and accessed from the top, spun out of control and forced the water pipe to spring gleefully from its rear, causing a low-level flood. I mopped it up and thought, O I know, I will have a shower now. The tap ($600) came off in my hand and the water went all over the walls. I thought, O I know, I will have a cup of coffee. I put the coffee pot on (I have written of this before, many years ago), but before I could place it on the ring, the handle came off in my hand.
I had a go on some Wet Wipes and a cold tap and went to the hairdresser, which is precisely 2 minutes' walk from my house. On the list:
- Eyebrow tidy
- Colour
- Haircut
Let me explain.
Eyebrow tidy
Fuck knows there's not much going right when it comes to my physical appearance, but my eyebrows have always been clear and unexcitable. I am afraid of 'tidying' them myself, though, as there is not much room for error; every 5 years or so I remember this, and get someone else to do it. They always look better, but as the ladies are plucking, they ask if if I have facials and I say I have had 2 in my life, and they say, but how is this possible?, as if I have said I have never had a bath. I will not go in to my theory on skincare (don't fuck about with it, use lots of moisturiser, people squeezing your blackheads is weird), but I think I left with a verbal agreement to go back so they can "cleanse my skin for the better accommodation of product". I am unlikely to honour the contract.
Colour
When I was about 21 I got a weird hormonal thing I and I got very fat and my hair (which until then had been thick and slippy) got thin and crap. That was OK but I am 42 now which means the colour is fading. I wouldn't care if I was going grey - in fact I would like it - but the colour of my hair is that of "un souris qui est en train de mourir très lentement", as I said to Bob (in a French accent), the "Colourist Host". I therefore have it coloured a bit so I do not look like I too am a mouse who is in the process of dying very slowly.
Haircut
For some time - despite a brief foray into the 'choppy bob with fringe', which suited me but was a pain in the arse to keep looking OK - I have shared a haircut with Dan Gillespie Sells, lead singer of one-hit wonders, The Feeling. There is no point arguing; it is the best haircut for me, unless a mentalist gets her misguided scissors on it in Amsterdam and makes me look like a portly visitor from the island of Lesbos. Today it has been righted.
Anyway, I managed to get through the eyebrow and colour bit before my hairdresser pointed out that I had toothpaste all over my chin. I take consolation from the fact that it was only on my chin, but wonder that I managed to make it through an hour without a) noticing it myself; b) having it pointed out by anyone else.
It is, now it is less disastrous, a strange day. My husband, a French-Canadian veterinary research histopathologist who cuts his own hair, is in Geneva sulkily ski-ing with clients he does not like, and I am alone in Montreal where I moved about 4 years ago. It is at the weekends when you are alone in a city that is only 53% home with nothing to do that you realise that your oldest friends are not in the same place as you, and you rather wish you could see them. I also wish I could still be excited by 4 inches of snow, which is what I think is falling in England at the moment. (In Montreal people don't even put their proper coats on until it is -20 and there are 3ft on the front doorstep).
I do not talk about being homesick because there is no point; whining about it doesn't change anything, but still, I am feeling the distance and wondering if there is anything I can do about it, short of installing videoconferencing facilities (with conference phone option) in the sitting rooms of all dear friends and sending out a meeting request for a status meeting.
In other news, here is a film you should watch. I found it very funny.
5 comments:
With regard to videoconferencing your friends, I have one word, my little monkey chum - Skype.
The snow. Instead of homesick - I am a US midwesterner in London - all the hysteria makes me grumpy. I have just had to restrain myself from mocking someone who said that it justifies 4x4s in the city. There's 2 inches. A bigger car is just more to drive idiotically on slippery streets.
I am hoping it will melt soon.
In other news, I am going to try using a different name in the comments, so I can be tracked across the interwebs like some slow moving, flea ridden sloth.
It has melted, except for the grimy black bits which will hang around until May. There was mild hysteria this morning at the disappearance of Mr Snowman (complete with stick-willy; the willy is still there, just lying forlornly in a puddle of slush. Which is no place for a willy to be.)but other than that we - and all of England - appear(s) to have survived the Big Freeze. Phew.
Your physical appearance is perfectly lovely.
Nice post. Hopefully you would share more good info about this topic in the future too.
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