the greys are painted pink

Gossip Girls

2009-08-25T23:35:00.005-07:00

This evening on the bus ride home, I participated in a conversation about two people - a couple. I won't go into the details but the conversation pertained to their history together and their private life that was made public through an event that occurred long before I came to meet them. My partner in this conversation was rather generous with details and opinions while I, though not entirely without opinion, tended towards the more passive role in the conversation - with more or less a "to each his own" attitude. Well, rather, with a "to each his own, but still... that's embarrassing" attitude. Having been the topic of malicious gossip more than once in my life and having also taken on the role of gossiper several hundreds of times, I can say with all confidence that, although my friend expressed a more opinionated point of view, my comments were of an inquisitive nature and not of the destructive or malicious quality that is often associated with gossip sessions.

Stop reached, I exited the bus and ventured home without giving the matter any further consideration. Just as I reached my front door my friend phoned me, a bit panicked.

"You'll never guess what just happened," she said. My heart froze as I imagined her having been accosted by one of Vancouver's many, many late night drunks. "(Blank) and (Blank) were on our bus. They were sitting right behind us." As it turns out, they got off at the very next stop and she saw them pass directly in front of her. "Should we apologize?" She asked, guilt ridden and frightened at the prospect of having been overheard. (She had been speaking pretty loudly and was pretty certain that they, along with the entire bus, had heard her.)

As someone who generally feels guilty about just about everything, in this instance, I do not feel any remorse for what I said. It didn't occur to me that I should, even after she broke the news to me. I can understand though, based on her intentions and comments, why my friend might feel concerned.

She rehearsed her apology speech to me and seemed bemused as to why I wouldn't feel bad. "Well, I guess I should apologize if they overheard me talking about their private life," I said. "But if they hadn't been on the bus, would we be having this conversation?" The issue wouldn't have occurred to either of us had the couple chosen to exit out the back.

In bringing this matter up with N, I found that he was of my mind. I was talking about them in any way one talks about the lives of people who are not there. We all do it. "This happened to so and so. This was the result... Gee... that's too bad. I think that what (Blank) did isn't what I would do, but that's all one." The difference is, the subjects may or may not have overheard. I don't like to do things that could make nice people feel bad but at the same time, I don't think it would make anyone feel better to receive a false apology. Plus, I don't even know if what I said, or the fact that I was involved in the conversation, had any effect on them.

Yes in truth, I facilitated and participated in a conversation that was about the private life of a couple. I enabled my friend to express her strong opinions. I listened to her opinions and didn't tell her to stop. I offered my take on the matter. The end.

So the question is, should I apologize to these two people when:

1. I don't feel any remorse
2. I wouldn't apologize if I didn't know that they may have overheard
3. I don't even know if they did overhear

Of her gossiping ways, my friend said "I knew I was going to get caught one day." That's how she feels. I guess I'm writing this because I don't really feel that I've been caught doing anything. Perhaps this could all change when I see the couple tomorrow and they potentially give me icy stares but for now, I'm not overly concerned with the fact that I listened to a story and expressed my opinion.

Lanch then Launch Pad

2009-06-02T11:03:00.003-07:00

This year's Ottawa Fringe has been launched! You can find info here. Now, with my biggest bit of Fringe work done (until the opening of the festival), I can finally get super excited about this year's Fringe as well as move on to the Launch Pad and Influx staged reading series for this year's Magnetic North Theatre Festival. Info here
Stay tuned - more to come!

prodigal blogger

2009-03-25T00:04:00.002-07:00

it has been a year since i last published to this blog. i suppose i should just give it up but something compels me to keep it. i feel like perhaps i should be posting my insights, adventures, encounters, endeavours though i have been too busy to make it a priority - particularly since setting back off down the road of academia - too worried about posting some true opinion that will burn a bridge or say something i want to take back later. like, lately, i am asked "how is your MFA going?" well, if i told you my feelings i might be hurting those of someone else, people who are trying their best to do a great job in a staunchy, old academic environment. if i relayed the facts, such as, i am in such financial straits that i have stopped sleeping, i've spent only 7 hours this term doing any actual directing (projects that were, for lack of a better term, forced upon me), the rest writing, giving seminars, critiquing terrible plays and building bridges out of toothpicks, it might give the impression that i am wasting my time. if i stated, as you might infer, that i am frustrated and disappointed with the above facts then would i be belittling the other opportunities that this year has afforded me? - experiences that i otherwise wouldn't have been given had i not embarked upon this two year deal with the academic devil: working alongside an internationally renowned master teacher of Shakespeare, not for one but two consecutive groups of professionally geared actors; assistant directing said master in one of Shakespeare's best loved plays; coaching movement for a french theatre company's production a play so beautiful it didn't matter that i couldn't understand half of what was being said; meeting, interviewing and observing a slew of national theatre artists; developing a vocabulary and extremely valuable toolkit to compliment the strengths and skills i have acquired over the years; being afforded the opportunity to direct classical productions with huge casts and good production values; being contacted out of the blue for unsolicited work; to test out teaching skills and theories on a whole new generation of theatre artists; to act as a motivator, mentor and friend to said students; to alway have the excuse when contacting people for something i want or need that "i am an MFA in directing student" (i hate cold calling). i believe that this time of suffering and hardship, lack of sleep and food, will pay off in dividends when i finally can put those three letters after my name. i am on a path to manifesting a greater goal right now and when i get to the end this suffering i'm enduring now will be little more than an anecdote... i hope.

"why do you keep hitting yourself?"
"because it feels good when i stop."

"why oh why oh why did i go back to school?"
"because it will be worth it when it's over."

MeMe part deux

2008-03-19T13:57:00.005-07:00

two things:

1. i have found one lovely friend to tag for the MeMe questions - the beautiful, talented and wonderfully tatooed adriana. not 5 people, no, but one is better than none and quite frankly sometimes adriana does the work of 5 people at her job.

2. remember those 1 euro pants i listed in the previous blog as being ones i would never wear again? well sure enough, i was low on clean laundry and against my better judgement i wore them for an entire day. now i can honestly say that i will never, ever wear them again.

MeMe now with new links!

2008-03-14T20:54:00.018-07:00

Very timely. I have been neglecting to write in this blog since december - first because life was uneventful and then because it was busy. It seems I have been given the perfect excuse to start my spring update - my friend T tagged me to fill out the MeMe questions below and then tag other bloggers to do the same. Thanks T! Too bad for (Me)Me, T is one of the few bloggers I know of (besides the ones she already tagged) so the chain ends here (let me know if you read this and you actually are a blogger so at least I can read yours too!).

Q & A with meMe:

what were you doing ten years ago?
exactly what, i cannot say. i was living in a kits attic apartment with 3 cats and andrew. i was also working 2 jobs. one at the 5th Avenue Café for Don, a former MacDonald's manager turned entrepreneur - i worked there with 2 Polish girls, both named Angie, whom Don called Angie 1 and Angie 2, as well as with 2 girls named Sandra - guess what he called them. Don was the skinniest man i ever saw and he took a really long time in the toilets. we had theories about him that were never proved. my other job was at the now defunct Poolyard Café where Jin, the korean owner, and his business friends would look at me in my tank top, say something in korean and all laugh. Jin always pronounced my name "Kashi," particularly in phone messages such as "hello Kashi, dis Pooyar Jin." he was really nice, despite my theories about his perversions (again, never proved).

what were you doing one year ago?
i was living in Paris. the second last day of the workshop for which i made these masks . i was probably flopping big time, sitting on the bench or having a cry - i did a lot of that over the course of that week. in short, i was having my mask played crisis and looking forward to the last day of the workshop.

five snacks you enjoy?
juice berries or any kind of gummy candy really
any kind of sour keys/candies
pretzels
smartfood
cheese and crackers

five things you would do if you were a millionaire?
pay off my debts
give the people i love a thing or two they really need
move to a house with a substantial property for building a little theatre/studio space and pottery studio - not necessarily in canada
build said studios
vacation at a spa in france, hawaii or switzerland followed by travel to various european destinations

five bad habits?
facebook
constant e-mail checking
complaining (esp. when tired)
feeling guilty/apologizing for no reason
quiet talking

five things you like doing?
pottery
kundalini yoga
directing/teaching/creating theatre
dinner parties
rolling around on the floor and busting it out to music

five things you will never wear again?

1. my clytemnestra costume from greek tragedy - i found it at a second hand stall at the Marché aux Puces de Montreuil for 10 euros. it was a long, white, fine mesh dress with copper-coloured sequins sewn all over the front in a swirly, floral like pattern. i wore it with golden undergarments and a purple and red satin sash to cover my bits that should be covered. philippe compared it to something Imelda Marcos would wear to seduce her husband. i left it in a garbage bag in the courtyard of my apartment paris even though i loved it and never took a photo of it.
2. the french maid costume i threw together for lisette during a crisis in writing & directing. i went all over Paris to find the perfect garment and at the very end of the day, pulled it out of a 3 euro bin at a crazy second hand shop just around the corner from my apartment. i saw a corner of it buried under a mound of other things and knew that was the piece i had been searching for - black velour bodice sewn to a red skirt with some (torn) black tuille underneath - definitely homemade! with it i put on my martin wig , an apron found at Guerrisol (pictured above), a shirt i picked up at Zara and never ever wore for fashion (guess that's #3) and then made a cap out of a coffee filter. for the same reason as clytemnestra's dress, this lovely piece will never again grace my beautiful body. again, no photo.
3. said Zara shirt above - it really was hideous. a white, pin-striped, cap sleeved little number with a pseudo-elizabethan collar and some strings that tied in a bow around the neck. i really should have returned it but just couldn't let it go...
4. a navy blue t-shirt with light blue piping and a crest sewn onto one sleeve (appropriated from my mother in 1990). i used to wear it during the BFA. i loaned it to dawn and she still has it somewhere. it is gloriously holey now and wholly hers.
5. black pants i also purchased at above flea market. they were originally for a costume during Le Jeu and became a regular part of my wardrobe. they were almost too small when i got them, continued to be tight even when i was at my fittest during peak acrobatic time and i don't even dare to try them now for fear they are not going to do up. i keep holding onto them though, even as i purge many, many items from my closet. they are quite nice really and were only 1 euro!

five favourite toys?

lord of the rings risk
doggy do - not the poop kind but a stuffed dog that was a christmas present from nick a couple of christmases ago. i hate stuffed animals but i kind of love this little guy for some reason.
ipod
laptop
scrabble

Leaning East

2007-12-30T13:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I am here in Ottawa for the holidays. After a long-distance autumn, I am in the process of deciding whether or not to move back here or to stay in Vancouver.

Here is the list of Pros for each (it's easy to come up with hundreds of cons for each so I will only focus on the positives for now):

Pro Vancouver:
Amazing friends, some of whom have amazing babies
Bigger, more beautiful city, more people, more to do, better shopping
Healthier air and lifestyle
BEACH!
Larger, more diverse theatre base with a more readily respected, recognizable national reputation
Fewer people trained at Gaulier = more teaching opportunities perhaps???
Closer to my dad

Pro Ottawa:
Equally amazing friends (only fewer of them)
Intimate theatre base in which I am already somewhat established = potential to work and achieve more quickly
Entire HOUSE for what I am paying in Vancouver for a tiny apartment = greater potential for savings/disposable income plus more space
Possibility of getting a dog (a bribe from Nick, but still...)
The Manx
Nick
Closer to my mum

Vote here, my friends, for your fave!

C'est l'hallowe'en!

2007-11-01T17:18:00.000-07:00

Where have I been all this time?

2007-10-18T16:51:00.000-07:00

Hello dear friends,

Over two months have passed since my last entry and I'm sure you thought I was boarding up this little window into my life. Well, not so. The truth is, I have been lazy. LAY-ZEEE

Where have I been?

To Paris, where you last saw me. I said goodbye to the blessed French countryside at the end of August to return home to Canadian soil. Ottawa was my first stop for visits with friends and the beginnings of a seemingly endless bout of culture shock. This was followed by a brief stint in Niagara Falls to see a few beloved family members. And then back to Ottawa for the development of a new piece of theatre - what? you may ask - well, we're not quite sure yet but it is on the way to becoming definable. Next up - more family, food, friends and shopping in New York City and New Jersey - a day at the beach on the jersey shore, fantastic food, minor celebrity sightings, a broadway show and a way way way off broadway import (how off broadway? well, how does Brooklyn sound to you?). One more week in Ottawa had me biding time until finally setting off to home-home. And now today I sit in my little cubby in Vancouver, hiding from the rain and writing this briefest of updates for you, dear reader, while I ponder things past and wait and plan for the next adventure. In the meantime, amidst organizing and reorganizing everything that has been packed away for these 13 months, I look for and welcome work related to my chosen profession - I did after all just spend the past year honing my skills - so if you hear of anything, please don't hesitate to think of me.

Until next time...

Rome in a Day (Abruzzo in a week)

2007-08-15T12:24:00.000-07:00

So I'm finally posting about my week long vacation in Italy. I actually started to write this post the day I returned to Paris but became so overwhelmed with the details of the trip that the task seemed too daunting. I am remedying this by splitting the experience into two posts - one about our land and air adventures before & after Italy and one about our actual trip.

(***More photos can be found here)

After all of the complaining I did about the rain in Paris, I certainly got more than I had been waiting for weather wise. This reminds me of an old adage my mother still recites to this day "be careful what you wish for - you just might get it." 34 degrees in the shade and a minimum 38 in the sun more than made up for the miserable weather in France and left me praying at times to the rain gods. I even killed a spider one day just in case the arachnid-rain superstition is true - it did nothing however and we were left sweltering.

After our hour long bus ride from the airport into Rome, we spent a fantastic afternoon in the city playing tourists - shopping, debating the way the local women dress (flashy or trashy?), eating panini and oohing and ahhing over the ruins and the colisseum before heading off to catch the bus to our main destination - Abruzzo.

Upon arriving at Nick's family's home where we would be staying, we were treated to a gigantic Italian meal of cutoletta, pomodoro, fagiolini, melanzane, panne and a ton of other delghts while Zio Vittorio, Zia Modesta, Enzo, Laurredana and cousin Alessandro regaled us with praise and stories about recent events and the lack of rain in the mountains (at least, that's what I think they were talking about - everything was in Italian so I can't really be sure). While the three dogs played, I watched the sunset behind the many high and rolling hills - several of which were topped with tiny towns built like fortresses. The clear and blackened sky revealed more stars than I think I've ever seen before - if I knew the constellations better I'm sure I could have drawn them in the air with my finger. We took a walk to the shrine to the Madonna that the two family households (next door neighbours to each other) had built on the road separating their respective properties. Upon reaching our destination we were delighted by spontaneous fireworks in a neighbouring town, which Alessandro told us were arranged to celebrate our arrival.

Over the week, we visited various family members who also ladened and lardened us with culinary delights. I became quite good at finding creative ways to say "thank you, it's wonderful but i can't possibly eat any more," as the Zias would spoon food onto my already half full plate, lovingly saying "mangia, mangia," and patting my cheeks saying "bella, bella." Funnily enough, I noticed that none of the other women dished such hearty quantities of food out to themselves. I also noticed that I was gaining probably about half a kilo a day! (Those of you who have previously envied my otherwise dainty frame and speedy metabolism can now take solace in the fact that I am trying to loose my new amore-handles as you read this.)

In the morning, I was amazed to come out of the house and be smacked me in the face with a close up view of Il Gran Sasso - a famous mountain of the region that looks like a big-bellied giant fast asleep on his back.

An average day looked like this:

Wake up sometime between 7:30 and 10am to Zio Vittorio reliving the happiest days of his youth by playing his favourite cd full of tributes to and songs about the Alpini.

Light breakfast of coffee and ciambellone followed by family gossip all generously provided by Zia Modesta.

Day's Main Activity:

Tuesday - Walk in the mountains followed by a drive up the winding roads to the Alpini meeting hall, drink well water and look at tiny lizards native to the area;

big lunch complete with homemade frizzy wine and acqua Santa Maria, followed by a two hour sosta (nap). Watch Alessandro play in a soccer tournament (finals) while drinking local beer and secretly nicknaming the other players things like Gino, Vino and of course Pino (for the guy with the orange tan and muscle car). Visit the other members of the family, eat some crazy italian layer cake to celebrate cousin Angelo achieving 98% on his accounting exam.

Wednesday - Day trip to a private beach in Rosetta - along the Adriatic Coast - with Theresa and her two children. Sun, swimming and, of course, a good sosta in the shade followed by a tour of Theresa's husband Pepe's restored Lambretta collection and homemade wine & olive oil cellar; big family dinner back at the house (big dinner and big family with Theresa, Pepe and kids also in attendance). Watch another of Alessandro's soccer games, this time with all of the cousins and boyfriends/girlfriends followed by gelato in a neighbouring town (complete with a spontaneous waterfight at the table).

Thursday - Lunch with Zia Angelina and Zio Gaetano - a three hour event where I learned the art of eating slowly, very slowly and saying "piano, piano, buono, buono" while Gaetano charmed me with his enthusasm and aptitude for the english language. This was followed by a three hour sosta and then dinner. (Yes, we literally ate-ate-slept-ate!) Alessandro took us to a pub in a nearby village for beer, electronic darts and melone vodka. An early night.

Friday - Day trip into a neighbouring town to look at the church and reliquary San Gabriel followed by cooling off in the icy waters of a local waterfall/natural spring (more lizards); big lunch of homemade gnocci, sausages, cheese and cold meat. Sosta (surprise).

All week Enzo kept hinting that there would be a surprise on Friday. At one of the soccer games earlier in the week, Alessandro introduced me to the joys of the regional specialty Arrosticini - sheep meat kebabs cooked over a skinny barbecue that is actually fired up with a blow torch. As it turned out, this was Enzo's intended surprise - a giant family BBQ of said meat sticks. So Alessandro made me promise not to tell that we had already eaten them on Tuesday night and I feigned ignorance for the rest of the week. (To be fair, and because I felt guilty, I only ate one or two at the game but at least twelve on Friday).

The BBQ brought around almost everyone we had met during the week, including Theresa who had cut her hair short since we first met Wendesday, inspired, she said, by me (blush blush). We all stayed up late drinking Enzo's homemade genziana - a digestive that tastes like dandelion root soaked in 99 proof alcohol (actaully, that's what it is) - aka moonshine. Entertainment was provided by all of the men in the family who, after dinner, lifted up their shirts to pat and compare the size of their bellies while Zio Vittorio played his Alpini hits again.

Saturday and Sunday - more fun at the seaside. These were the days where we planned to relish the luxury of being able to eat next to nothing! Then we were invited to lunch by a local family... and taken out for dinner by cousin Vittoria...

Saturday night found us at an evening flea market by the beach while Sunday brought us back to the soccer field where Alessandro played in the final match of his local league. His team, the underdogs of the game, won the entire tournament by one point in a sudden death mano-a-mano shots on net situation after two rounds of overtime. Needless to say, I found by the end that I had developed a new appreciation for the world's most beloved game.

Our trip finally came to an close on Monday morning and though I had had a wonderful time, I was glad to go home. The fact that no one spoke English really wore me down more than I had expected. I learned more italian than I had ever imagined but, although by the end I could understand a good deal of what was said to me, I grew tired and frustrated with the fact that I could not fully express myself, only being able communicate through simple words and partial sentences. Not only were we treated unbelievably well by our hosts, but I felt every second as if I was part of their own family. Indeed, I will never forget the beauty of the land, the sea and most of all the people. I have been invited back and I can't wait to return.

And by the way, yes, gelato was consumed every single day. Sometimes twice.

instead of posting about italy i did this quiz...

2007-08-13T08:36:00.001-07:00

what do you think?

You Are An ENFJ

The Giver

You strive to maintain harmony in relationships, and usually succeed.
Articulate and enthusiastic, you are good at making personal connections.
Sometimes you idealize relationships too much - and end up being let down.
You find the most energy and comfort in social situations ... where you shine.

In love, you are very protective and supporting.
However, you do need to "feel special" - and it's quite easy for you to get jealous.

At work, you are a natural leader. You can help people discover their greatest potential.
You would make a good writer, human resources director, or psychologist.

How you see yourself: Trusting, idealistic, and expressive

When other people don't get you, they see you as: Bossy, inappropriate, and loud

What's Your Personality Type?

2 legit 2 quit

2007-07-14T10:19:00.000-07:00

So I have been feeling a little low these past few rainy days - maybe it's been the lousy weather, the incessant runny puppy poo, the worn off novelty of having finished school, the missing of my newfound international friends, the days spent with nothing to do but watch the rain, hunt down long lost pals on facebook, watch pirated TV on You Tube and create new Malibu-based cocktails...
Anyhoo, needless to say, amidst my Googling, I researched so many theatre companies that all looked the same, that once again I started to feel hopeless about the future of professional theatre artists in Canada - true, bored, poor and free.
Then yesterday afternoon the sun decided to come out just as I decided to check a rarely visited e-mail account. In my inbox was an unexpected e-mail from the Canada Council for the Arts informing me that I had been selected to receive the JBC Watkins Award for Theatre! Wow!
Now, I don't know if this means that I'm now not eligible for the actual grant that I applied for, but Philippe's champagne was popped nontheless. Celebration was mandatory. How wonderful to feel, perhaps for the first time (and as Nick so aptly pointed out in the middle of his "proud of Cat" speech, lovingly applauded by the dogs), that I have been recognized and supported by the Canadian government as a legit artist. I think a big part of the proudish feeling comes from the fact that this is not an award you can simply apply or be nominated for (I looked into it months ago). No. Based on certain criteria, someone examined my grant application and said "this woman should get this prize," and others agreed. Wow!
The funniest thing is that just the night before, I was looking at the prize online and listing off all the reasons why I wouldn't or couldn't be selected for it.
Sometimes the weather is on your side.
Now, if only that puppy would start pooing on the grass...

rain rain go away

2007-07-10T05:00:00.000-07:00

i am sure you're dreaming of my hot, sunny, holiday in the french countryside. i am dreaming of it too. it seems that the summery weather came and went back in april and now it is cold and miserably rainy. my bikini is unworn but at least my apron is filthy with all of the baking i've had time to do in between taking care of two full grown dogs and training a puppy (a.k.a picking up poo).

so to while away this rainy hour, i bring you a pictoral review of the recent past.
*if you're on facebook at all, then you've probably seen what i've been up to these past few weeks but if not then here are a few highlights.

we had big street party to celebrate the end of school.

it was on rew's street. (you may remember him from an earlier post)

i was scouted and cast as an evil peter pan.

(these are my lost boys)

in order to get the part, i had to switch my gender,

and then convert. oi! (it seems to make it in the business it helps to be male and/or jewish)

Funny how? Like a clown? I'm here to amuse you?

2007-06-14T02:38:00.000-07:00

So, I have come all this way and spent so much time here to now discover that I am not funny. For the most part. Those of you who know me well may be saying "No! What? But you're so funny in the café! In the life!" Some of you have said it already. Well my friends, I am sorry to tell you that a witty anecdoter does not a clown make. A clown is an idiot who plays an idiotic trick usually on another idiot. And I am just not an idiot (surprising, I know). However, I am learning to find and embrace my inner idiot. So in the mean time, please get to know my friends - other hunters on the quest for the golden idiot (there are about 70 of us so this is just a taste...)

Virgin Mary - the Gay Divorcé

Satan and Mr. Bogart

The Odd Couple

The Pride of Walt Disney World

Not Quite Wild Bill and Don Juan on the Beach

Raging Bull and Her Highness QE2

And of course the master himself...

As for me, well, I think the shorts are a good start.

*** update *** Since writing this, I have been funny 2 days in a row. I think it's the whiskey I've been drinking before class ;)

seriously

2007-06-11T13:57:00.000-07:00

who has feet like this? seriously.

Another reason to floss

2007-06-03T05:02:00.001-07:00

This is me Saturday night.

I woke up Thursday morning with a little pain around my bottom wisdom tooth. I've had mild throbbing there a few times before and thought this time that the thing had decided to try to grow in again (as it is only slightly peeking through the gum). By Friday I was taking Paracetemol (European version of Tylenol) and by Friday night it was Codeine and whiskey for the pain and to supress the tears. Not one to miss out on the Tori Amos event of the season, I continued on the stuff all day Saturday (paracetemol, not the whiskey) so that I could make the concert in the evening. This morning however, the swelling became worse and so I made an appointment at SOS Dentaire - a private dental clinic that is open on Sundays. The clinic seemed fine enough - in a nice location of the city. Though there was an older sign on the outside, the waiting room and the turn around time quick. Something was strange to me though - I realized that the receptionist had gappy teeth. Nothing wrong with that but this was the first dental clinic I've ever been to where the staff did not all greet me a perfect set of pearly whites. The people in the waiting room went in with frowns and came out with smiles though so I thought, nothing wrong with this, perhaps the French just don't put as much of an emphasis on perfect smiles as North Americans do. The dentist came to take me into the room. He too had what looked like smoker's teeth. This was where I began to panic a bit - the metal instruments hanging over the chair were spattered in what looked like dried blood (though maybe it was just iodine?). I began to imagine oral complications, drilling noises, screaming, evil laughter and the like and was extremely relieved when all he did was swab my mouth with some sick tasting acidy stuff. It was when he told me to rinse and spit that I noticed and there were several broken teeth in the drain - I kid you not. 100 euros later, he gave me a prescription for three different drugs and told me to get my tooth taken out when I get home. You see, it seems that when my dentist told me years ago that I should get my wisdom teeth removed, I perhaps should have listened. It was not the impaction itself that was causing the trouble but the nano-sized debris caught under the gum that created an infection. Just the tiniest bit of food.

i love paris in the springtime

2007-05-20T08:05:00.000-07:00

another quiet sunday in the marais. after spending what seems like the entire weekend gossiping about our classmates, teaching our brazilian and spanish friends to make pancakes (complete with canadian maple syrup) and playing lord of the rings risk with nick and special guest stars ruth and pedro, i am not yet thoroughly geeked out. now i search for game strategies, ways to "fuck nick" (to quote my lotrr mentor/partner in evil doings ruth) as a tool for procrastination (i should be learning lines, you see). perhaps there are better ways to spend a rainy afternoon but i for one can think of none.

so, perhaps you can help me get some work done on this laziest of sundays, dear reader. one week into my writing and directing unit, i still search for a fantastic story to tell my class. one that will prompt listeners to dream and create a two hour script around. do you have something light, beautiful, wonderful, magical, original to share and inspire?

2007-04-22T12:30:00.000-07:00

sunday in the park with ed

this was my last week of my three week vacation. fittingly, it was spent being a tourist again. nick and i went to the eiffel tower where, believe it or not, nick had yet to visit.

sipping expensive champagne straight from the bottle with a view of the sun setting over the city, we quietly observed all of the student tours waiting in line for the elevator to the top while relishing in being a perfect balance between being decadent and trashy.

today being the last day of the break, was spent sun worshipping at an informal picnic with becky, ed, aron and nick at sacre coeur.

this was becky's idea. so, with beer and potluck dishes in tow, we made the trek up the steps and picked a perfect spot with a hot, hazy view of the city and planted ourselves for a number of hours before heading back, pink skinned and sunstroked, to the moldy apartment (which now also smells like cheese for some reason or other) for late afternoon mojitos. (note - don't make mojitos with mineral water as they will be salty rather than sweet).

all in all, this was a brilliant end to a great, low key vacation. though perhaps not as brilliant as the neon yellow short suit ed purchased at Barbes for 8 euros earlier this weekend.

now i sit in anticipation for not only the potatoes nick is cooking for dinner (which will be eaten while we finish watching the last three episodes of season one of Deadwood - also much anticipated) but also for the next and final ten weeks at ecole philippe gaulier and what i can bring to them.

2007-04-21T09:33:00.000-07:00

the year (and a bit) in hair... a retrospective

fresh new year - january 2006

party pretty - april 2006

carefree in the country - may 2006

summer updo - june 2006

straightened in seattle - september 2006

parisian schoolgirl (aka bob on a budget) - october 2006

seeing red - november 2006

pixie perfect - april 2007

have a fave? our beauty editors are dying to know!

2007-04-16T23:40:00.000-07:00

change your shoes, change your life!

it is currently vacances here in France - a time when the majority of the population takes 2-3 weeks off of work or school in favour of some much needed down time. this just happens to coincide with the time when the first major influx of tourists invade the city of Paris. let me tell you one thing about tourists - they are lovely but you can spot them a mile away. especially anglophone tourists. and especially, especially if you have had the experience of being one and then not one.

there are two kinds of tourists - the ones who try to disguise themselves as locals and the ones who don't try to disguise themselves at all. i have a special respect for those who don't disguise themselves - i like to imagine that they have chosen comfort over style, rationalizing that they will be spending the majority of their parisian vacation in the touristy areas with other touristy types or at least those accustomed to touristy types. trodding around in 26 degree heat as we have these past few weeks, i can completely understand their choice.

i also have a special affection for those who make such a great effort to disguise themselves - in particular those who have chosen a comfortable, sensible shoe in the colour black (a.k.a. runners or walking shoes) thinking they could pass it off as something stylish. they seem to imagine that no one will know that they're not european (even though their kids are dressed head to toe in nike or lululemon). however, i know. how do i know? because i was one of those people when i first traveled to Paris in september. within one week i rid myself of the shoes i'd brought when i realized how ridiculous they looked and that i wasn't going to fool anyone with those things on my feet no matter what i wore on my body. a pair of Clarks! slip ons no less! like, neoprene runner types with no laces. i would never be caught dead in them at home but somehow i fooled myself into thinking they would be passable in the fashion mecca that is paris. as if i'd just picked them up at a jaunty little boutique somewhere in Montmartre. having spent a bit of time here i now know that no one (at least no woman) wears comfortable shoes in this city (except perhaps birkenstocks when it's really hot).

as much as i'd like to be one of those people who chooses comfort over style, i just can't be. particularly when it comes to footwear. this is not to say that i in any way try to consider myself a local, i like to think that i've just adopted a craftier disguise.

2007-03-20T02:40:00.000-07:00

Paper faces on parade...

A couple of weeks ago I made some masks for school. Although I was in no way successful with wearing them, some other people found great pleasure in them. (I did have success with a mask someone else made).

So here for you is my first attempt at mask making. Not bad for a beginner I'd say.

2007-03-20T02:19:00.000-07:00

What I learned in school today...

My name is Martin Boulanger. I am 14 years old. I am in grade 9 at Dennis O'Connor Catholic High School.

Below is a picture of me with my mum, Shirley. She is from Scunthorpe which is in England. She runs the local "chippy" which is a chip truck. I love chips. And I love my mum.

This is my hero and role model Father Alfonso Guererro. He is also my best friend since my dog Shadow was put down two weeks ago. Together we get up to all kinds of crazy adventures.

These are some other people from my town including the rich man and the one black person (who is a great dancer by the way).

My dad was out of town when these pictures were taken. I will endeavour to put one up when I get one of him.

I love Fleetwood Mac and broadway musicals but am in no way gay.

Thank you for visiting.

2007-03-02T18:09:00.000-08:00

we live out where the street ends...

where i live

2007-02-25T05:27:00.000-08:00

to market, to market...

today has been one of those extremely rare days where, after six weeks of activity, i have the luxury to sit alone in the moldy apartment contemplating the possibiility of staying inside and speaking to no one all day. i spent yesterday at the marché alligré purchasing vegetables for the week. sipping coffee on the corner, i watched all of the vendors pack up their goods for the day while my friends pestered them for free mangos. today i have convinced myself that it is not sunshine i see in the courtyard - after all of this morning's rain it can only be a tease and i am sure that the minute i step outside it will pour on me.
we begin a new unit tomorrow - mask played. after the flopping frustration of bouffon and the universal dip in motivation and energy that occurred during melodrama, i am happy to savour these next few hours of inactivity before another few weeks of extreme innovation and resiliance beckon me.
i leave you now with a photo of my friend Rew who drank all the beer in paris on friday but still mustered enough energy to stop by for homemade pizza and dvd's last night.

2007-02-13T02:56:00.000-08:00

you'll go to paris on your own...

Paris. Finally a couple of photos for the curious. Months late but better than never I suppose...