Guys and their toys
If I worked for Apple and got to name iPhone, I would name it Man-Toy. No seriously! Is there any better name for it? Let me explain.
My husband bought an iPhone on his birthday. (YES and No! He bought himself a birthday gift and didn’t!! It’s a long story.) I don’t want to get into details of what he had to go through to get the phone, from changing his phone company to extending his contract…. Anyways. He finally got it.
As for me, iPhone is just a phone. OK, it connects to the internet. And yes, it can detect motion and has a touch pad and all. But after all, it’s just a cell phone and at most, an iPod.
But for him, it’s a different story. And I am not complaining about his constant engagement with the phone, either surfing the internet or playing one of the 100 games that he has installed on it (or maybe I am! Who knows?!). It’s so much that I cannot complain about his love for his camera or his laptop anymore. Which is not bad by itself, you know. For him, the iPhone is simply the most amazing TOY he has ever had. I kid you not people!! You be the judge:
This past weekend, we rode the skytrain to go to downtown to see a movie. We didn’t get to see the movie, since everybody else was so eager to see James Bond. But I got to witness this: He doesn’t have a data plan, so he cannot use the GPS on his iPhone. But the phone tracked our position and was updating it as the skytrain moved. My husband, a grown up man, was watching the map on his iPhone all the way to and from downtown, staring at a purple point, making sure that the position was correct. Even at some point, the map was not cashed and there was just a point blinking over an empty screen, and he still wouldn’t let go. Isn’t that amazing?
You tell me. Isn’t that soemthing a 4 year old would do with an interesting toy? Am I right to want to call iPhone, Man-Toy?
I am back!
I didn’t go anywhere. I was here, but at the same time I wasn’t! It’s hard to explain.
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Thanks for your kind words regarding my last post. I really appreciate it.
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I have recently discovered Russell Peters. (Yes! Just recently!) He is an Indian/Canadian stand up comedian. His comedy is mainly about different nations (races) and their accents and traditions. He makes fun of everybody, from Chinese and Indians to English and Jamaicans, even his own father. I love it when he tries to sound like his father with the Indian accent.
This is one of his funniest pieces in which he makes fun of British accent and sex! Or this one about Indians and Chinese doing business with each other. It’s just hilarious! I hadn’t laughed like that in a long time.
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My TA is going well. Very well actually. I am very happy about it. I’ll tell you more about it later.
Is it too much to ask for a decent haircut here, people??!!
Here is the deal:
I have a head covered with lots and lots of curly hair. I have no problem with hair volume. As a matter of fact, it’s quite the opposite. My hair has too much volume. I always ask for debulking when I get a haircut.
If you have curly hair or you have lived with someone with curly hair, you probably know that it’s not always easy to manage such hair, especially if the hair has a mind of its own, like mine! And a good haircut is probably the first, most important step in order to be able to manage curly hair.
But you see, the problem is that not everyone can cut curly hair. It’s extremely hard. You know why? Because curly hair looks and acts very differently when it’s wet and being cut, from when it’s dry. So the hairdresser has to know this and take it into consideration when cutting the hair. And he/she should know that when curly hair dries, it looks much shorter than when it’s wet. At the same time, a good hairdresser should know that combing curly hair over and over during cutting results in a disaster, involving a huge round head, about 3 times bigger than usual. So combing hair without using any product is like strictly prohibited.
Since I came here, I have tried stylists in different salons with different price range. I have been to a salon in a mall and I got a haircut for $30, which is quite cheap, done by a very young stylist. I was probably her 10′th customer overall. The result of this cheap haircut was one side shorter than the other side in the back!
I wasn’t that upset, cause I chose to get a cheap haircut and I had to face the consequences!
The next time, I went to a big, famous salon in downtown and asked for a stylist who was expert in cutting curly hair. I was quite confident and I was willing to pay about $70 for a great Christmas look! The stylist started by combing my hair. When she finished cutting one side, my head was so big that she wasn’t able to see the mirror!! As a result of that expensive haircut, my hair was ridiculously long at the back and short at front. It was hideous. So bad that I asked my husband to take a photo of the back of my hair, so that the next time I was going for a haircut, I could show that picture to the stylist and warn her.
This time, as a back to school makeover, I went to another salon in downtown. I was going for a $70 haircut and $150 highlights. I talked to the stylist a lot before she started. I showed her the picture and let her laugh at my previous haircut. She seemed to know whet she was doing. The haircut turned out OK (thank god for that!!) But the highlights…!
She used three different colors for my highlights. My hair was getting more and more volume, as she added each foil. At the end when she got to the right side of my head, she was confused about the order in which she used the colors on the left side. After about 1.5 hours, she simply forgot. So I ended up with more blond highlights on the left side and more brown ones on the right, around my face. And you know what? It doesn’t look that natural anymore!
So I am wondering, is it really too much to ask for a decent haircut and even highlights, in exchange for $270 (after taxes and tip) of my student budget? Is it? Really?
I should consider shaving my head then! At least it’s cheap.
Hotel beds!
I promised to write about my problem with hotels. It is my dirty secret. No one knows about it! Here it goes…
I have a problem with fabric. Fabric that is used by several people, strangers. You see, any other material, glass, wood, metal can easily be cleaned. You can even very easily disinfect them. Just spray some kind of cleaning product on them and wipe. Even toilet seat and shower can be cleaned. But fabric is different. The dirt can go inside the threads and stay there, and it’s usually harder to wash or clean. How many times a year do you think they clean the sofas in the hotel rooms? Or how often do they wash the quilt or the mattress? And yes, I know that the sheets are washed every time a guest leaves, but it feels weeeeyeee. You know? Imagine how many people have used these sheets and have put their heads on these pillowcases. Do you think they all have the same level of personal hygiene as you? Or how many couples have had sex on this same bed and have disposed body fluids on it? Or have puked on the pillow after a drunk night?
Disgusting I know. But those are the thoughts that go through my mind when I am lying on a hotel bed. I feel itchy all over my body. I try not to move much to touch the smallest area possible. And I am very well aware of my body, what my hands are touching and where my long hair is at all time during the night. I have the same feeling when I sit on the sofa. I feel much better in the bathroom though!! Everything is so clean and shiny. I can spend hours in there!
When I plan to go on a trip, I always have this worry that I might feel bad about the bed and not be able to sleep on it. Yes! It has happened to me once, in a family trip before I get married. I felt this way about the bed that I was supposed to sleep on at night and I spent the night in the my dad’s car!! So you can imagine why I am scared. Until I see the bed and lie down on it, I can’t be sure that I can sleep on it.
And showing the bed sheets under the microscope on Oprah definitely didn’t help! The dust mites and bed bugs are not very pretty from very close, you know! And this post in Badass Geek’s blog about fleas didn’t help either!! Go read for yourself.
I have been trying to overcome my problem with fabric. And I have changed a lot. Instead of bringing half of my house with me on a trip, now I only have to use my own towel and pillowcase. I bring a sheet too, just in case, but try not to use it. However, any activity that requires excessive movement on the bed is still banned from hotels, if you know what I mean!!
“Dude, that’s enough!”
Imagine a food that you like, for example pasta, which is one of my favorite foods. Now imagine one day, you start your day by eating pasta for breakfast. Then you eat pasta for lunch. In the afternoon, you eat a snack made of pasta. For dinner, you also eat pasta. Oh, and after each of these meals, you eat a dessert that is made of pasta as well. So, pasta and pasta and pasta,… . Now imagine having the same diet for a week, or more. How do you think you feel then? You will end up seeing everything as pasta, seeing noodles everywhere. Your stomach will eventually reject any more pasta and simply deport any noodle that tries to get in. You know what I mean, right? You will throw up at the sight of pasta!!
This imaginary situation is not so imaginary here. But it is not about food. It’s about a beautiful thing. It’s about art. It’s about a hobby. Someone’s hobby.
It’s about photography. It’s my husband’s passion and his hobby.
Now don’t get me wrong here. I like photography. I actually try it sometimes myself. And especially because it’s my husband’s hobby, I am even more interested in it. I try to learn more about photography and be able to talk to him about it.
BUT…
Unfortunately, I have some stomach problems. Meaning that my stomach has a certain capacity for everything. I can handle about 20 photos being taken and talked about a day, to be model for almost 15 other pictures, and later, I am able to see more than 30 photos on the computer and discuss the cons and pros of each and digest new information about them. When I am asked to have more, I simply can’t. My stomach starts turning upside down and issuing alarms. I know that I have to see a doctor about it, to increase the capacity of my stomach, or to give me some pills to decrease the symptoms of photography intolerance. But in the meantime, I can only say: “Dude, that’s enough! I can have no more. Where is the bathroom?!“
And later, I feel bad about it. As a damage control technique and in an effort to make up for any hurt feelings that I might have caused, the next day, I would be even more interested!! And I would try very hard to swallow the noodles, if you know what I mean.
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P.S. No husband’s feelings have been hurt in the making of this story. … . OK!! That’s not true. He is very sensitive. We are having pasta for the rest of the year!!
My sweet 29′th birthday
It’s my birthday this weekend. I am officially turning 29.
Unlike some of my friends who find it unpleasant to age, I don’t feel bad at all. I am where I want to be in my life and I am happy about it. Of course I am not looking forward to some of the signs of aging, like wrinkles and gray hair. I have found a couple of gray hairs this year, not a big deal. But I guess I’ll deal with them when I really have to!
I usually have a sweet feeling about a couple of weeks before my birthday. I cannot really describe it. And my birthday usually ends up very nice, with my family and/or friends remembering it and celebrating it with me. (Except last year!! Can’t talk about it now!)
When I look back at my previous birthdays, there are some very sweet memories.
I have always loved reading, and books have been my favorite gifts. On my 8′th birthday, my parents told me that they were not able to get me any presents. I got very upset and made a scene. So much that my dad got mad at me and dragged my yelling/sobbing body outside to his car and showed me the gift that they had bought for me. It was a bunch of books, about 15 of them. The perfect gift! I don’t forget how happy (and embarrassed!) I was that night.
When I first started dating my boyfriend (currently called Husband), my parents didn’t know about it. And I wanted to keep it that way. So when he got me a huge stuffed bunny for my birthday, I didn’t know what to do with it. How to take it inside without my parents seeing it and finding out about us. So one of my girlfriends brought the gift inside and told my parents that it was her gift to me. My mom looked at us like “Ya, Right!!” , but didn’t say anything at the time. Later she told me that she knew everything.
When I was 18, my birthday fell right after we finished our university entrance exam. My friends and I went to school to celebrate our freedom. They celebrated my birthday by giving me beautiful gifts. Later we took pictures all together holding bits and pieces of the gifts and wrapping papers to make it look like there were 20 gifts or so. I am sure they still look at the pictures and remember those days.
About the same time, my parents got me this beautiful silver necklace for my birthday. I don’t know why, but it felt so good and precious. Like it was the most expensive piece of jewelry that existed. I still have it and it reminds me of them. And I miss them so much.
So I guess I should say “Happy birthday to me, on my last 20-something birthday!” I am looking forward to more unforgettable memories on my future birthdays.
There is a party in my (husband’s) tummy!
I came upon this video in Dad Gone Mad’s guest post by Sarah James.
I loved it and I can’t stop singing “There is a party in my tummy. So yummy! So yummy!”
But seriously, isn’t it a great way of encouraging children to eat vegetables with their food?
I showed the clip to my husband. Well, he isn’t really a kid anymore, but he still doesn’t like green beans, cooked carrot, cabbage, cooked broccoli, onion, and a few more that I don’t remember now. I thought the song might work for him too.
We’ll see!
