The missing stylist: She be found

November 11, 2006 at 1:20 am | Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

Praise Jeebus and the gods of the internet.  Thank you, MySpace.  Don’t ever say that e-stalking never worked.

I found my stylist.  She didn’t die or elope (at least not that I know of) or anything of the other explanations that Lorien and I had cooked up for her recent disappearance.  I don’t really know what happened, and I suppose I don’t much care.  She’s found and she will be able to cut my hair once more.  However, I now have a minor hair-related dilemma.  I have my hair colored and I’ve got some seeeerious roots going on right now.  I made an appointment for tomorrow with someone else, for a cut and a color, cause I was desperate.  But now that my stylist has been found, I kind of want to wait for her magic to wash over me.  That would mean God only knows how long of roots and headbands and dubious bangs.  Should I take the plunge and try someone new (please say no please say no please say no), thus eliminating the color problem, or should I wait and be assured of magic hair?

The case of the missing stylist

November 7, 2006 at 3:19 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Oh. My. God. I called the salon today to make an appointment for my stylist to work her considerable magic on me. This woman is a hair genius. The first time I went to her and she asked me what I wanted, I said, “Oh, just a trim.” She looked at me–and I swear there was a gleam in her eyes–and replied, “How about this? We give you a little colour. Have you thought about highlights? Highlights would be great. Then, I cut your hair so that it shows your face more. No more hiding behind your hair!” I love a woman who knows what she wants. Anyway, I called today to make an appointment, and the woman on the phone said that she was no longer working there. Not only that, but they didn’t know where she went.

My heart stopped. Not knowing where she went? Do you not know how desperately I need my roots touched up? Do you know that she had visions for my hair? How can you not know where she went?

I nervously scheduled an appointment with someone else, and then did what any sane internet-stalker would do: I Googled her. I found her MySpace. I checked to see when the last time she logged in was–4 days ago–and sent her a message. Hopefully, it’s not too stalker-y, as she’s cool and I wouldn’t want to scare her off, but really people, this is my hair we’re talking about.

Coffee presents a morning challenge

October 27, 2006 at 9:12 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

In my humbug world, there is a time and a place for choice. When I go yarn shopping, I want choice and lots of it. When I go boyfriend shopping, again, choice is good. When it’s an ungodly hour in the morning and I need to buy coffee cause one of my coworkers broke the coffee pot at work–and, let’s be honest, I don’t make my own coffee* and it’s just me today, so I’d have had to buy it even if the coffee pot was still intact–I do not want to have to choose between six different blends. I just want coffee. Regular, plain old boring coffee.

I tried to order a regular coffee this morning at a coffee shop and the guy behind the counter looked at me like I was nuts. “We have six different kinds,” he said, in that tone that implied his incredulousness at having to deal with someone who didn’t know and doesn’t care about the difference between the full-bodied Amazonia blend harvested by pygmies in the rainforest and the milder Verona grown in organic rooftop gardens in Italy.

It’s a Starbucks** world and we just live in it; I know that it’s impossible to just get regular coffee at one of these places. The struggle has been documented plenty of times, so clearly I’m not breaking any new ground. I mean, I should have known better. But seriously, I’m not a coffee connoisseur (I love that when I typed the misspelled “conoisseur” into Google [a.k.a. “The poor man’s dictionary”] it gently suggested, “Did you mean connoisseur?”), and all I wanted was the basic brew.

After the barista chose one of the blends because I am incapable of making decisions at indecent hours, I produced my Starbucks cup for him to fill. I wasn’t actually at a Starbucks and he didn’t know what cup size of theirs would correspond with what I presented. I am not going to quibble with someone over 15 cents at 8 a.m., so I usually just tell them to charge me for a large, even if it actually takes a medium. Even so, he started dispensing the coffee into one of their disposable cups to figure out which size my cup would take.

That drives me nuts. What is the point of having a reusable cup if you have to use a disposable cup in order to fill it?

I tried to say something, and at this point, not only am I the psycho who doesn’t care what kind of coffee she drinks, but she also wants to use a hard plastic cup that doesn’t even fit under the dispenser. I’m pretty sure I was the crazy bitch at 8 a.m. who was a bad omen for the rest of his day. Tough shit, as I say, having worked at plenty of customer service jobs.

Anyway, he filled up his large disposable cup and poured it into mine. Of course, he filled it to the brim with steaming hot coffee. And, of course, as soon as he started to screw on the lid, it overflowed and burned his hand. I could have told him that that was going to happen (guess how I know?). At that point, I could feel his hatred; it was palpable and strong and scary. Did that stop me from giving him $20.06 for a $1.86 coffee? Nope!

*-It’s not entirely that making my own coffee is, as an internet friend put it, “For the poors,” it’s also that I’m not that good at it. My coffee is always too weak or too strong or something. Plus, it’s for the poors. I try to distance myself from them whenever possible.

**-I wasn’t at a Starbucks but I still consider it to be a Starbucks world.

The Simpsons 101: What should we be learning in college?

October 16, 2006 at 2:40 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

I was talking with my friend Heather today, who attended the University of California at Santa Cruz. I’ve never visited the UCSC campus but I know that the school has a reputation for being a hippie school. Nothing wrong with that; my own alma mater has that reputation, too. Anyway, we got to talking about courses we took in college. I was talking about how I’m writing one of those lame touchy-feely papers for my reference course, and she mentioned that she had to write tons of those as an undergrad: UCSC offered courses like the Sociology of Love, Women in Popular Culture, a course on the Simpsons, one on the Grateful Dead, and one on the Muppets.

As an undergraduate English major, most of the papers I wrote were decidedly NOT touchy-feely. I wasn’t cracking the genetic code, but I wasn’t writing about how television makes me feel, either. I remember taking a gender studies course (that was my first mistake) and having to sit through a presentation that consisted of a mix tape of Ani DiFranco’s music. Worst. Class. Ever. Still, though, that was probably the flakiest course I took in college. There were probably other, much flakier classes being offered, probably in the Comm or SoAn departments, but I wasn’t on either of those tracks.

It’s always seemed foreign to me that people could watch TV or read magazines for college credit and/or a degree. The article that I have linked in the title of this post mentions that the study of popular culture can be made a rigorous academic experience, with connections made between hip hop and history, the Simpsons and satire. I’ve never taken a course on hip hop or the Simpsons, so I can’t say how rigorous or how easy such a class would be. I can’t help but think that these courses do not in any way indicate a real education.

And yeah, I know that, with my English degree and requisite courses in Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Virginia Woolf, my peers who have studied the exploitation of women in Cosmopolitan or the politics of the East Coast-West Coast rap wars or whatever will be making exponentially more money than I. Good thing I don’t care!

Picky-picky

October 6, 2006 at 12:18 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 Comments

As Heather reminded me last week, I am 6.5 months away from getting my master’s degree and having to get a “real job.” I mean, the job I have now is fairly real but it’s a student position, so once April hits, I’m on my own. Because I’ll have a professional degree, I can start applying for jobs in January.

I’ve been thinking about where I want to live. So far, I’ve lived in Miami, Portland, Miami again, and Toronto, with a 3-month stay in Glasgow. Miami is the no-chance-in-hell option–I will never, ever live there again (I don’t even like visiting). I like Toronto but my options for staying in Canada are pretty limited. It’s not like I could get a stop-gap retail job here while waiting for something professional.

So, since I’m not going “home” and I’m not sure if I can stay here, I’ve been thinking about places I would live. Being me, I have a pretty inflexible list of things I look for in a city, and I’m not really looking to change any of them. They are, in no particular order:
1. Distinguishable seasons
2. Decent yarn store(s)
3. Liberal political climate (even if it means that the city is a blue oasis in a
sea of red)
4. Good public transportation
5. DIY attitude
I can’t think of anything else right now, but I’m sure there are other requirements. My father thinks I’m insane. He is a firm believer, perhaps because he’s a transplant from England living in Miami, that a person’s environment is not important. He figures that you’ll find the right people and the right places no matter where you are. I suppose that could be true. However, I never felt like I fit in in Miami and eventually I realized that it just wasn’t the place for me. That experience, of feeling like a misfit in my hometown, has shaped my desire as an adult to find the “perfect” city, or at least the place in which I would feel comfortable and healthy.

So far, this is what I’ve got:

Kansas City, MO (I read an article in BUST about it and it sounds cool)
Portland, OR
Eugene, OR
Seattle, WA
Vancouver, BC
Toronto, ON
Maine
Vermont

And that’s it so far. Out of the entire English-speaking North American world, I have 6 cities and 2 states to consider when it comes to living and working.

I never said I made life easy for myself.

On boredom, and Veronica Mars

October 4, 2006 at 12:51 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments

Actually, let’s discuss Veronica Mars (or, as I like to call it in my head, V. Ma) first. The new season (season 3) premiered last night and it was long-awaited. I had to wrestle the remote control out of Dave’s hands. He was sleeping and had some kind of crazy death grip on it. In the process of fighting with him for it, we woke up Lorien. Waking up Lorien is pretty much as dangerous as waking up a hibernating bear, and is usually something I go out of my way to avoid. However, this is V. Ma we’re talking about. I won’t risk life and limb for much, but I will for that show.

So. I have to admit, I’m a bit rusty on the nuances of last season. For those who haven’t watched it, the show is pretty complicated at times and it’s difficult to understand what’s going on if you haven’t been paying close attention. I think I finished season 2 in May, so it’s been a while. I was a bit confused by the plot line involving Veronica’s father, but that didn’t bother me. I was pleased just to watch Logan (those arms!) be his sexy self (and Veronica be her sexy self, for that matter. She’s a hottie!). Soooo glad it’s back on…

And, on to boredom. I was sitting in one of my classes yesterday morning and I was bored almost literally to tears. Or death. I think that I was seconds away from stabbing myself with my pen. I brought a non-school book, and read that. I knitted. I drank coffee. Did any of those things relieve the pain? HELL NO. It was so awful that it put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day AND made me skip my afternoon class to go to the darkroom, where problems cease to exist.

Last night, I was talking complaining to my father about the presence of boring classes in my life and how my tolerance for boredom is pretty low. Like, there’s not much I hate more than having my time wasted; waiting in line, sitting through class, traffic jams–all of these sort of inevitables of modern life drive me freakin’ crazy. I wasn’t there when they handed out patience. (Couldn’t be bothered to wait in line… Ba dum chhh!)

So, anyway, my dad was like, “Well, do you need to attend the lectures? If you’re not learning anything, I don’t see why you’d need to go to class.” This coming from a professor. It’s like being given a “please excuse Tasha” note for all of the classes, past, present, and future, that I have ever and will ever skip. There’s that phrase, “Work smart, not hard.” I definitely have not been working smart. If I genuinely do not need to attend class to learn what I need to learn, why bother going? I could use that time to sleep in. Or do homework. Or go to work. Or the darkroom. Or whatever.

Thanks, dad!

Bored bored bored

September 30, 2006 at 11:49 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Oh my God. I am so bored. I’m at work. It’s Saturday so there aren’t that many people here and the ones who are seem to be able to work independently. The photocopiers aren’t jamming or out of toner or anything. There are no computer crises.

I’ve read all of my blogs. No one seems to be emailing me. I don’t have anything fun to “research” online.

I have this stupid cataloging assignment due on Tuesday that I’m half-heartedly working on but it’s soooo boring. Not to mention that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about, so anything I do write is complete and utter bullshit.

I am so bored. Stephanie finally got here, so I have someone to talk to, but holy shit it was touch and go for a while there.

So cool

September 27, 2006 at 8:47 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

This sounds so cool. I don’t even like video games and it sounds cool. I like classical music and all, but this really livens things up a bit. However, the cheapest tickets are $65. I understand that it’s expensive to put on a performance involving live music, but it’s so irritating that these kinds of things are prohibitively expensive for people like me. Every time I look into doing something “cultural” like going to the ballet or the symphony or something, I balk at the prices. To be fair, the National Ballet of Canada offers The Nutcracker at reasonable prices, which is nice cause it’s such a classic holiday show and everyone should see the Sugarplum Fairy at least once in their lives, and there are a lot of places around town that offer student discounts, but still. It’s just annoying that you have to have a lot of money to be able to see the high cultural stuff.

Observations at 8:39 am

September 20, 2006 at 8:45 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

1. My iPod must have been set on “awesome” this morning cause it played only great songs, and only great songs that I was in the mood for. Sometimes I want mopey and whiny; sometimes I want rockin’ and raunchy. This morning I was in the latter mood, and I got Led Zeppelin and Guns n Roses. What more could a girl ask for?

2. A girl could ask for NO KEENERS, is what a girl could ask for. I’d like to report that at an ungodly hour (this one) there are 10 people here that I can see. There were four people waiting for me to open at 8. 8 am. No one I know would even remotely consider being here at that hour. Most of my friends are happy when they make it to class, let alone the library. What is wrong with these first year students? I’m not ok with the bar being set super high.

3. I am wearing the red sweater that I made last year, the one with the komodo dragon collar. It’s only like the third time I’ve worn it, cause it’s either too hot or too cold out to wear it properly, and with its crazy sleeves and collar I can’t wear it under stuff easily. I loooove this time of year–the air is crisp and the leaves are just starting to change, but there’s none of the hopelessness of winter with its barren trees and gun-metal skies.

4. Perhaps the universe is trying to tell me something by sending me a string of non-relationships. Maybe it’s telling me that I’m not going to remain in Toronto, the way I didn’t remain in Portland or Miami. Not that boys are the only reason to live somewhere, but they’re a damn good one. Maybe the universe is telling me that I need to go to a windswept island (Scotland, perhaps?) and meet a windswept island man and have lots of dogs. Even if I don’t meet a windswept island man, I can still live on a windswept island, right?

Treasures

September 18, 2006 at 9:47 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

So, this weekend I went to the Clothing Show with Alli, Kristen, Heather, and Lorien. It was fabulous. There were a lot of indie designers who sell their stuff on Queen West, but the prices at the show were significantly lower than Queen Street. There were also crafters, particularly jewelry crafters, who were displaying handmade items. It was really cool. I bought a tank top (not pictured cause I’m lazy). This bag was one of my favorite things at the show(note: I might be in love with this bag–it’s made of cotton, is reversible, and is machine washable. It comes with two straps for different looks. What’s not to love?):

The bag is by Bootyfly Bags. I was talking to the guy at the booth and he said that they are based in Alberta and this is their first foray into the wonderful world of Ontario. Their stuff is really cute.

Right before we left, I found these really cool zip-up cardigans, by Embody clothing. I love the asymmetrical look of this, and the funky polyester ’70s cuffs:

There were a lot of other cool things at the booth, and I wish I’d paid closer attention to the crop tops/shrugs (check out the link to the website).

And, last but not least, check out the progress on my raglan sleeve knit-in-the-round sweater:

Close up of the sleeve shaping:

I stuck my arm into one of the sleeves and it’s gonna be too short. I have two options: 1) take out the cuff and knit a few more inches, which sounds easy but would actually be a pain in the ass cause I’d be knitting down instead of up; or 2) tell people it’s supposed to be the new style–the 7/8 length sleeve (instead of the 3/4 sleeve). I’m not sure which option is more appealing. I’m a bit reluctant to wuss out, cause I really like this sweater, but on the other hand, I wanna wear it already!

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