Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

To Lilian and Stevey.com,

Vegetarians, virgos and all round good value.

Have a wonderful birthday and a fab year to come!

Robin

If everybody wants you, why isn't anybody callin'?

Last night, we celebrated 3 x 50 years of Will Straw, Marty Allor and Sandra Buckley. Predictably, we were trawling the eighties music and Geoff played "Gloria" by Laura Branigan. Then Will said that she just died in her sleep of a brain aneurism. I listened to the lyrics more intently than ever before and I thought she was singing about a woman dealing with schizophrenia! I just had a look at the lyrics and, um, I'm happy to report that I don't think she is. "Gloria" contains the line above which is some pretty choice wordsmith-ing. Rest easy Laura.

My post on men in Montreal has been in draft for nearly a month now, mostly because I want to be proven otherwise. Claire told me to post it a while a go to make certain the Universe knows it needs to prove me wrong, so here goes.

I am having difficulty parsing my thoughts here and please, Universe, prove me wrong, wrong, wrong. I DO KNOW though that I hear my sentiments echoed in the women I talk to. The men in Montreal I'm talking about are probably more indicative of the petrie dish I live in and the swab thereof that I take. But I have been hearing women muttering over and over about the state men of this city are in. These are women I work with, women I study with and women I live with. Men just don't know what they want or if they do they don't act on it, they keep telling me. They are flakey and basically just chicken. *

This disturbs me because:
a) I'm in the same dating pool.
b) These things have a flow-on effect - the more people get on with Business, the more Business there is. (Mathematical equation forthcoming...)
c) This isn't the Montreal I used to live in, is it?

Were men always this cautious and I neither knew nor cared because I was in a relationship or semi-relationship for most of the time I've lived here? What is going on with the collective unconscious of the guys in Montreal? I'm toying with the idea that it is just me and the problem will go away once I move to Toronto. All the nubile men in Montreal will catch a whiff of change in the air, cautiously peek their heads out of their little neurotic shells, grow a backbone and venture out on to land once the threat of running foul of me is neutralised. How do you spell martyr again?

Twenty year old Walter was seeing a girl recently that made everyone, including himself, ask how he managed to snag such a stunning female specimen. I think I know how. Walter is the Perfect Gentleman. Not in in an overbearing sexist way but in a gentle way that says, "I am happy to be here with you. I recognise and respect your womanhood." Now, there is nothing romantic going on between us - I'm his noona ("big sister" in Korean) and our relationship mostly consists of me offering unasked-for advice. Extrapolating his attitude though spells good things for the propagation of the species. Montreal men could learn a lot from my man, Walter. The Art of Flirting is a Lost Art. And those that are flirting seem to be the ones that have already their action waiting at home. To quote Claire here for a second, if they were cabs, their dome lights should be OFF!

Is there some kind of sexual politic that prevents men from stepping up because they don't want to appear sleazy and be confused with that seething morass of men that smart women refuse eye contact? There is a middle path that needs to be tread, I understand. I would like to put the blame on the slacker/hipster ethic but I'm sure there is nothing in that dog eared handbook about how cool it is to go befriend beautiful women and how much inhibition really turns them on. Is it because I'm getting older and people around me are also getting older and thus self-conscious? We're supposed to feel more comfortable in our skins, not less. I'm always shocked at how dry the terrain is in Montreal. My friends are hot, yo!

Update: Upon further investigation, I don't think I'm going to follow up on the Friendster guy. The other one, Fancy Frenchman, I will likely call mid-week. This gives me at least 3 days to figure out what to wear.

* Not just me, I swear to fucking god.

Something to think about...

Take a look at all the different passwords you use - what does it say about you?

With All Due Modesty...

...I am officially on fire. For some unknown reason, I have been approached by two different men in two different ways in the last two days. (insert pat on back here)What the hell is going on???

The first was yesterday, on the street, running a work-related errand. The other is through FRIENDSTER. My photo and profile on Friendster are next to useless - its a photo of me with a "?" on a white piece of paper held up in front of my face. He's a friend of a friend of a (work) friend. Holy shit!

Does this mean I should also buy a lottery ticket now? Is the universe smiling on me. I just looked at my horoscope and it says I should be

a source of relaxing beauty at the heart of the hubbub; a calming yet inspiring influence that motivates the people around you to act with maximum integrity.

Damn, what am I doing right? Or wrong? I mean, I'm tempted to follow these things up because I want to know what makes people do these things? I had a post with some observations on men in montreal post that I decided NOT to post. Imagine what the Universe is going to do when I put that ire "out there".

Jeez. As they say "when it rains, it pours".

Look out the window...

Get A Room!
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

This wonderfully appointed home in Danville, CA features not one but two open fireplaces, roman columns, wall-to-wall carpeting, solid oak staircases and DOGS GETTING IT ON! Woof woof!

Thank you, Stevey.com, for this one. "Do puppies come with the house?", he asks.

Harold and Kumar rocked the house, yo!

H & K
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

I think I was the only girl in the theatre and we were the only ones who managed the Korean/Indian combo. Although, I think he's more like Harold and I'm like Kumar (right down to using the other's scissors to trim pubes) :P. There was a group of five guys in our row who were dying of hysterics and during a breast baring scene, I heard the sweetest little sigh escape the lips of the guy behind me.

The movie was also really, really funny. I realise this is likely going to be the first and last time I get to hear the words kimchi chigae in a mainstream cinema.

There are some pretty hysterical sequences involving Neil Patrick Harris as his post-Doogie self, a fantasy sequence involving Kumar copulating with a big bag of weed and the pair riding a cheetah...bareback.

My sister didn't really appreciate the "self loathing" aspect of Harold's Korean-ness. H & K go to Princeton to find some weed (of course, where better than an Ivy League school) and they run into the long suffering Cindy Kim who's got it bad for Harold. Harold mentions he's just going to "end up with Cindy Kim" anyway though he's really gunning for Maria, the girl who lives in his building. In the context of the film and the self-realisation issues that Harold has, yes, I can appreciate that Cindy comes off second best for being, well, overly earnest. In the context of the film I don't think he was so much a self-loathing Korean as much as someone who feels his fate is out of his control. Harold is hanging out with her East Asian Student's Society friends who are the picture of nerdiness in a pocket-pen-pack-and-calculator Eighties way. (Not in the overpriviledged hipster geek that is really just the aforementioned dipped in the right labeled clothes. Anyway...I will save it for antoher post). Its the deference to authority that he's having trouble with - the same that they show him.

Kumar was never really far from his epiphany, I think he was just too high to realize. I want to see Kumar hook up with Cindy Kim in the sequel for obvious reasons. He couldn't shut up about how cute he thought she was...

I'm off to write the director a letter now.

My Brush with Mortality

I did NOT drink last night. I went out and kept to the soft drinks and I'm very happy about that today. My stomach and my head are silently thanking me too.

Tuesday morning, I was so very very sick after writing the previous post. I was laying in bed at dawn with nothing but remorse. I kept thinking about my aunt who died of cancer because I was using the strategies for rehydration that I learned from her dealing with the after effects of chemo. Even as a witness, I still cannot imagine the horror of having to deal with that day after day.

During my recovery yesterday, I read an article by Tom Robbins which lifted my mood immensely. His article bemoans the state of literature today and its overweening darkness. And then came the line that jumped out of the page and grabbed me by the throat:

Among our egocentric sad sacks, despair is as addictive as heroin and more popular than sex, for the single reason that when one is unhappy one gets to pay a lot of attention to oneself. Misery becomes a kind of emotional masturbation. For those willing to reduce and permeate their ego....into submission, heaven on earth is a distinct psychological possibility.

I think need to listen to my guilty pleasure music (post forthcoming) and just laugh at myself.



["In Defiance of Gravity: Writing, wisdom, and the Fabulous Club Gemini", by Tom Robbins, Harpers Magazine, September 2004]

this post was wiritten drunk 0 pls excuse tpyos

what do you call a one night stand in a foreign country?

a layover

ha ha ha! i've just had a big night of drinking with my girls and i'm well, drunik.

thsi is one o fthe chick-sperianisms i shared with bita and aleksandra lsat night. in addition to getting loaded with walter on suandya night, this is what monday night loked like. i think tonight is going to be much the same with geoff ...this week will probably culminate with Wil's birthday on sunday night.

Oy vey

clearly my life is faling to shit.

i am going to see har old and kiumar go to white casele with my ex-boyfriend let hope that goes well.

i also saw the quy in question from one week ago and things went fine. there is stil this frisson between us btu, whateve....

je suis fucké (that means: fucked in french..uh, .pardon my french)

HTMLC (Has To Make Life Complicated)

Oh Lord. If you look down this page, you will notice that beginning at half way through the previous post and all the way down is in italics. It is the result of me getting ahead of myself and trying to put italics in manually. See, when I post on my mac, I don't get the benefits of push button publishing that I do on a PC browser. I'm not sure why.

Ooops. Why didn't anyone tell me I don't know a fucking thing about HTML? Damn you, Blogger, damn you to hell. If you were a boyfriend, we'd be having a Talk about now. But you're not. You're more like a child. Like a child trying my patience. And you've got my eyes, so I can't help but think you're beautiful even as I curse your name.

Damn you, again and again.

George Bush's Bitch

The Bitch is Back
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

Stocking stuffer ideas don't usually come this early from me (if they come at all) but this one looks pretty choice.

This deck of playing cards has just been released by Seven Stories Press. The queen of spades is the one they colloquially, and in this case appropriately, call "The Bitch".

A snippet from the press release....

In The Joker's Wild: Dubya's Trick Deck, award-winning investigative journalist and author of the New
York Times best seller The Best Democracy Money Can Buy Greg Palast gets to the bottom of the
crooked hand we've been dealt and plays the slim suit that could save us. Reading this oversized deck
of real playing cards, which feature original research, will amaze you, infuriate you, and make you
laugh out loud. Or strike up a game for a whole new twist on gin Rummy.

With striking, hilarious, full-color original art by Robert Grossman on each card, The Joker's Wild gives
the lowdown on the cast of high-priced back-scratchers that brought our mis-leader to power, paving
Dubya's way to the White House with hefty campaign funds, lucrative insider trading tips, and sleights
of hand that cancelled thousands of ballots.

.....and a nod to Canada....

The Diamonds glitter with a list of characters that reads like the black book of a Texan prince. Get the
score on George's friends, international bigwigs from Pakistani potentate Musharraf to former
Canadian head of state-cum-gold baron, Mulroney. In George's world, action figures come to life as
the governor of the Golden State, nightly news men fall in line in the service of W., and a sheepish
leader of the pack polishes his runner-up speech before the ballots are in.

Greg Palast is author of The Best Democracy Money Can Buy. Palast based these cards on his award--
winning investigations for bbc Television's -Newsnight, -Harper's magazine, and the Guardian (uk).
His Web site is www.GregPalast.com.

You can purchase The Joker's Wild directly from Seven Stories for 20% off the cover price of $8.95
(cheaper than Amazon or B&N) here:
http://www.sevenstories.com/Book/index.cfm?GCOI=58322100197130

Or check out some samples of the cards here:
http://www.sevenstories.com/closeup/index.cfm?page=palast_samples.html

Coco My World

coco
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

I smell fantastic today. I can't get enough of me. I'm distracting myself from my work.

The scent du jour happens to be Coco, a fragrance I abandoned a couple of years ago because it would put me in a tailspin a bit like the one described in last Monday's post. Perhaps I'm more olfactorily inclined than most but scents quickly induce reverie in me.

L'Air du Temps is the smell of Melbourne.

Allure makes me feel like a total can-do professional woman.

Samsara makes me think of Germany.

Loulou makes me think of Petra.

Philtre du macre makes me think of working at SSB, in Sydney.

Jean Paul Gaultier makes me think of Georgina.

Arpege makes me think of Claire.

Fragile makes me think of Temo.

Synapse Misfire

Whip It
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

I saw one of these out walking it's human as I was leaving work. Then - out of nowhere came the divine strains of Devo:

When a problem comes along
You must whippet
Before the cream sits out too long
You must whippet
When something's going wrong
You must whippet

Now whippet
Into shape
Shape it up
Get straight
Go forward
Move ahead
Try to detect it
It's not too late
To whippet
Whippet good

I wish I was kidding.

The iCrapper

Crapper
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

The landlord sent a handyman named Regent (yes, everyone in Montreal has a cute name) who did all manner of household improvements today. One of them was to replace the old toilet seat that was chafing from the underside from years of accumulated uric acid.

We should have asked for this...damn!

In Praise of Back Dimples

If I had to choose a (non-gender specific) Favourite Body Part, it would have to be those two little dimples where the top of the bum and bottom of the back meet. I've always liked them but I think the prevalence of low-riding pants for both men and women has brought it to the fore. As far as I know, most people who have an ass and a back also have these dimples. I could be wrong though.

Does it have a name? Why do they even happen? I hereby christen thee "back dimples".

I wanted a photo for this. I suppose this means I need a digital camera.

Very Good Things That Have Happened At LAX

This is a story that I promised Warren a while ago to entice him to my blog...

1. I saw Sigourney Weaver just after she did Alien III. Her hair was super short and she looked kick-ass.

2. I met The Man of My Dreams - he was gorgeous like John John and a dog trainer by profession, no less - and we got so deeply involved in our conversation that we missed all of the repeated calls for our flight and were flung in seperate directions!

3. I met Pat Smear on a plane bound for Chicago on my way to Montreal. I was seated somewhere in the front half of Economy Class and then what I like to call my Star-Fucker Radar goes off. I realised that rock stars and were in my midst and I looked up. At the back row of First Class causing a stir is Pat Smear, he's with his Rock star cronies so I quickly and surely help myself to 1C and D which were sitting empty. I sat down and focus all my energy on looking casual.

He turns around and looks at me in his best manchild way: "Hi!" We start chit chatting, he compliments me on my clothes. I tell him about the Foo Fighters shows I've seen. We *should* have met before but we didn't because he was in Sydney shooting the "BIg Me" video (the one thats a mentos ad spoof).

The plane is delayed, we're grounded and the plane was really hot. Pat was drinking and generally fussing. We both do childish things like going to the see the cockpit (this IS pre-September 11, 2001, after all). He's already drinking scotch in the rarified air of First. Why? He's afraid of flying and the alcohol works nicely with the downer he's already taken in preparation for the gruelling 4 hour flight.

He sneaks me cookies throughout the flight and talks to me through the curtains. We get off the plane and we go and smoke furiously outside at O'Hare Airport when we arrive. He thanks me for saving him from having to hang out with his band mates. We go to the post office in the airport which just closed. Pat whines and somehow gets this sassy postal worker to sell him a stamp through the fuck-off-we're-closed grill. He tips her a twenty. He lends me some change so I can call this guy who has my keys who had a fit when I told him I was calling him with "rock star money".

Then we get a drink at the concession stand of the airport and he orders a mineral water. Now, for reasons completely unknown the following word falls out of my mouth: "FAG!" I am mortified. All the blood in my body courses through my cheeks and I start to feel slightly lightheaded at the thought of having to back-pedal out of this one. (I would say that I think my bowels leaked but that would probably be stretching it.) Pat turns and looks at me, eyes wild and says "I love that movie!" Phew! He understands that I was having a simple lapse where media memoery takes over in the same way you might quote a line from The Simpsons. As anyone who has ever watched the film Heathers knows, "fags" drink mineral water (it set in Ohio, I believe).

I give him my number and we promise to keep in touch and never do. He leaves the Foo Fighters a few weeks later...

"I fight not with the world. The world fights with me" *

I told Stevey today that I've kind of "got the wobbles" about this whole blogging business. It was born partly as an exercise in opening up; to live through the realisation that there is precious little to feel ashamed for or to hide in this world. Warren speculated that I would make the transition from "this is what I did" (see entries about hair and nails) to "this is what i thought". I think I'm going to amp it up a notch to "this is how I feel."

Right at this moment, I'm really fucked up. I'm sad and I'm shaken. I'm staring out at the screen through a haze of regret and longing. I look like a horrendous weepy mess and I'm doing it in public - again! It was bad enough when I had the excuse of a movie for my emotional state... But when you put these things out into the Universe, the Universe has a way of trying test your commitment (not my long suit!). I performed a couple of interpersonal chores today and was feeling like quite the Woman of Action. After my dentist appointment, I wanted to go to a cafe and sit down and complete a relatively jovial post that has been in draft form for some time now.

Instead, I got side-tracked by a coffee with someone who hurt me terribly many moons ago and my evening went to shit...

Confronted with all the things I love(d) about him and as well as all those things that I can't seem to forgive him for put me in a bad state. I feel (all too) human because still he has the ability to make me smile, make me laugh and make me cry. A bit like how my heart jumped for a second when I thought they were going to play "Fantasy" by Mariah Carey. There is something about that song I like in spite of myself. But the feeling was, needless to say, amplified umpteen fold.

I have to bear the responsibility for how I feel because it's the culmination of years of miscommunication and denial. I don't think he could have realised he broke my heart because I never let him know that he even had the power. Would he/could he have been different if he had known? He claims not to be a "mind reader" and I believe him. But how can he not have known? He also claims to know me better than most people will in this life (perhaps true) and for one reason or another doesn't run screaming from the room. I commend his strength of character and intestinal fortitude. He said he always liked me because I was never the burdensome girlfriend who cried about every little thing but, lord knows, when I cried in the past, he was an Asshole. We have competing versions of history, unsurprisingly. One thing we can agree on is that we some amazing times together. I still can't figure out how to feel about him.

I got to say a few things I should have a while ago when I just put it down to him being a World Class Prick (who ALWAYS retreats into semantics when the going gets rough, which annoys the FUCK out of me...). That might just be enough for me. I didn't give him my phone number even though he tried hard to get it. He still cares for me and I for him. I'm not sure if I have the guts to risk getting closer. ("Eject! Eject!) Stakes is high.

I have a lot of regret in my heart and now I sit here and I drink alone and write my post. What a scene. I pictured my evening quite differently. I pictured it all differently.


* Buddha

News You Can Use

opalescent blue
Originally uploaded by Oblivia.

As of this morning, this is the colour of my toes.

Happy Birthday, Fidel!

Hi-Fidel-ity
Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

Viva la revolucion!

Flirting is Fun

For the last month or so, I have discovered a new allergy - to cooking. But the will-to-survive took over (only after consulting bank account and hours of ignoring protests from my stomach) and I biked over to my local grocery store wondering if I remembered how to shop.

My local store is kind of shabby, I have to say. It makes me wonder if absolutely everything cheap and tasteless will make over the hump to retro. Let's pray the imperatives of commerce head it off at the pass...

They have managed to keep up with the times a bit by offering those carts that are sized-down for lonely single people eating-for-one, like me. Those aisles are really really narrow. And I've discovered the physical proximity has its rewards. Case in point...

As I was going through what passes for a fruit n' veges section, my cart clipped the cart of another. I muttered "ooops, sorry" as I passed and looked back and the man gave me the sweetest, cheekiest smile. This man was probably, conservatively, 80 years old. I don't think he ran into me on purpose but when he did, he knew how to work it...And he made my day.

The Cog

This is a pretty cool ad for a very ordinary car.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Honda Accord.

Double My Pleasure

This is my horoscope for this week, I like it very much.

In Half Magic, a children's book by Edward Eager, four kids discover an enchanted coin with an odd quirk: It grants just half of any wish. Naturally they try to compensate, imagining how to double the scope of each wish so that when only 50 percent of it comes true, it's exactly what they wanted. Your immediate future has certain resemblances to their story, Gemini. Though you will be in possession of a kind of magic, it may tend to work incomplete wonders. Consider imitating the kids' strategy: Make your wish larger than what you actually need.

So, from now on, I only chew doublemint gum, eat double pizza, and date twins.

Thank you Free Will Astrology!

Friendster Suckster

I have never had any luck using the search capability of Friendster. What the hell is that thing good for anyway? I've been trawling through friends-of-friends - giving myself tendonitis in the process - to no avail. I have 14 different Friendsters but none appear to know the person in question. This is Anglo Montreal and we all know that no one is separated by more than two degrees. I'm baffled.

Aleksandra, tell Alex to Friendster me, ok?

I'm a Liar

Psychologists advise that the following should be used to as indicators as to whether someone is lying.

25 signs to tell if someone is lying to you:
1. Touching the chin or rubbing the brow
2. Crossed arms or legs
3. Playing with hair
4. A line of perspiration on the brow if it isn't a warm day
5. Saying "no" several times
6. Continually denying accusations
7. Being extremely defensive
8. Providing more information and specifics than necessary
9. Inconsistencies in what is being shared
10. Body language and facial expressions don't match what is being said such as saying "no," but nodding the head up and down
11. Smugness
12. Placing a barrier, such as a desk or chair, in front of self
13. Uncommon calmness
14. Unwillingness to touch spouse during conversation
15. Being hesitant
16. Slouching posture
17. Rigidity or fidgeting
18. Differing behaviors; not acting in a usual fashion
19. Unnatural or limited arm and hand movements
20. Partial shrug
21. Lack of finger pointing
22. Unusual voice fluctuations, word choice, sentence structure
23. Stalling the conversation by repetitive use of pauses and comments like "um" or "you know"
24. Lack of use of contractions; prefers emphasizing "not" when talking
25. Avoidance of eye contact, eyes glancing to the right, staring past you, or turning away from you while talking

When I read this article, I had this sudden creepy feeling of being watched. A good 15 out of the above 25 could apply to me on just about any given day on just about any subject matter. Its official, I'm a liar.

[Don't worry, I don't take this as gospel, I have noted the contradictions (rigidity or fidgeting? lack of finger pointing?)]

Small Pleasures

There is scarcely anything I like more than a sun shower.

My Dinner with Isabelle

If you know me, you know I have a great memory for people, faces and to a lesser extent, names. Its a gift. I can recognise people I met years prior and frequently, I can remember where I met them and under what circumstance. Once, I ran into a girl I knew in sixth grade at the McGill gym - we were 26 at the time. I like looking at people's faces anyway and for this part, I live in the right place. You get a lot more eye contact in Montreal than in places that are, how you say, WASPy? Perhaps this talent is a way to exercise control over my environment, perhaps its a way to envelope myself in it. I think it comes from being a total star-fucker.

Last week, however, I saw 2 people in two days that I simply did not recognise when I looked at them. This is really disturbing. This can only mean one of two things:

Thing 1: my eyes are failing me
Thing 2: my brain is failing me

Isabelle's eyes and brain remain sharp as she came right up to me opened up the conversation. I'm grateful to be able to make her reacquaintance. She's always been so very ambitious and driven, its like a fire that you can't help but want to stand next to just to enjoy its light and the warmth. Talking with her just made all I know to be right angles in this world a little more square. As an aside, she also set me up on my one and only blind date and it was awesome, not because it led to "something" but because I had an amazing time with an amazing person. I'm waiting for her to weave her magic again. Heh heh heh...

We went for dinner in Chinatown, drinks at Reservoir and indulged in a hell of a lot of catching up and girl-talk. More low key than Sex and the City - but just as many one-liners!

As we parted, we pledged to go to this restaurant called "Au Pied de Cochon" which is just around the corner from me. It seems to emanate from a french series of bistros run by the Brothers Blanc. They have a very decadent twist on a Quebecois delicacy, poutine that includes FOIS GRAS!

Anyone else interested?

Meet My New Summer Love

I heard this guy on Triple J radio* via webcast, of course. He's MYLO and he's awesome! They say his album "destroy rock and roll" is going to be this year's "moon safari".

Supposedly, the guy grew up in a little scottish town with nothing within tuning distance except for a soft rock station that exacted just the sort of damage that only over-produced pap can.

I'm running out to buy it now!

*There are several things I miss about Australia and media wise, I miss triple j, i miss RAGE (all videos, all night) and i miss every inch of sbs.

North Shore Girls

Willis in Uniform
Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

The leafy North Shore area of Sydney has a reputation for producing comely lasses who go on to modelling careers topped by marrying well (Elle MacPherson, Nicole Kidman) or marrying outright billionaires (Sarah O'Hare, Jodie Meares).

Francesca Willis is my hit prediction to carry on this venerable tradition. (She looks like Jamie Packer's type, no?) I'm sure her "abuse" of the school webcam (Barker College, my sister's alma mater) and her subsequent suspension from school (yes, thats her uniform) will only secure her entry into the many a second rate society function. The story is a familiar one from there...

This is what I think Georgina looks like!

Georgina Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

Terra Alterius (or Yay Shaun!)

I just got word that Shaun Gladwell, highschool alum and dear dear friend, is having yet another show. Here's three cheers for having the guts to do what you love! Congratulations!!!

Terra invite front Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

High Hair Drama

"i put my money in, how do i know its working?" Click! "ok, it works....now - one for the ages!" Click! "this one is for the honeyz" Click! "?" Click! **** I got my hair cut on Friday evening. I used to be quite hair obsessed. These days, however, I find myself at the mercy of Sara-Jane's good judgment (she's at Coupe Bizarre). Her serious demeanor is awfully refreshing - no untoward questions and quiet moments appear to be because she is *concentrating on doing her job*. The first words out of her mouth when I sat down were "Lets go shorter. I think you need a change." She is not only an aesthete, she's downright prescient. Jokingly, I asked her if she "dabbles in amateur psychiatry" to which she replied, "no". **** My mom used to perm my long, dark hair as a child which would be pulled into pony tails and pig tails. My favourite to this day is when my grandmother would put my hair into two long french braids. NOTHING compares to the sensual spine-tingling delight of a cool breeze running through french braids. Other Moments in Hair: First of many androgynous do's - with rat's tail! - Age 11. Long permed hair in approximating ringlets that started to form dreds! - Age 14 Mia Farrow "gamine" cut - Age 17 Found amazing hairdresser, Danielle, who left the-high end salon Sloanes after my second appointment with her because she could "make more money waitressing"; hair cues taken from Linda Evangelista between - Age 21-23 Electric blue streaks in long straight hair just beyond shoulders to give off highlights like a cartoon character (think anime, think Veronica from Archie) - Age 23 Summer in London - I got my hair cut three times in ten weeks out of sheer boredom - Age 24. My cousin dyed my hair blonde which quickly went orange - Age ?? (nevermind, old enough to know better)

4 photos Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

2009: All Look Same

Check this out: www.alllooksame.com Take the test. It asks you to judge 15 faces - are they Korean? Chinese? Japanese? Its funny....let me know how you do. And the bonus point question: The shot above is taken from a Korean/Japanese co-production called "2009: Lost Memories". I saw it the other night at a film fest called Fantasia which features mostly cult films, Asian films, sci-fi - geek fare. This one was a bit disappointing - too melodramatic for my taste and direction was very stilted. Or maybe thats just because they were mostly speaking Japanese and you know how inscrutable those Asians are... :P

2009 Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

This is how I see myself...

Thanks Claire for this excellent web site: http://illustmaker.abi-station.com/index_en.shtml This is an amazing tool for the Artistically Challenged like myself. Give it a go.

Robin Portrait Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.

This is how Claire sees me...

Robin by Claire Originally uploaded by Robin Ahn.