DID: Washed my hair in the kitchen sink.
Okay, some background.
This is what my dining room looked like last night:
And this is what was going on in my living room:
Mr. M is currently Mr. Fix-it, which means we have no bathroom in our bathroom, and most things that will end up going in our new bathroom are sitting, or strewn about, where we normally eat dinner.
And because I am incapable of operating at a normal level without washing my hair every day (because, dear readers, it is so very thin and so very fine, and because of how much I exercise , I cannot live without a daily shampooing) and because we had no tub – I washed my hair in the sink, where thirty minutes prior I had scrubbed two frying pans, a colander, two soup bowls and a spatula.
Needless to say, before I got down to business, the side of the sink that I used to wash my locks was scrubbed to an inch of its life.
(And because I’m lazy, I left the other side the way it was, with a dirty knife and spoon lying next to the scrub brush.)
No joke I nearly broke my back and cricked my neck for all of Canada as I limbo-ed my way to clean hair.
Also, it is dang hard trying to get all the conditioner rinsed away, when your giant five foot ten body is unable to manoeuvre itself to allow for your stupid head to rest directly under the water stream.
Also, it’s at times like this that I realize just how long my hair actually is (when I dye my hair from a box is also another great reminder of this.)
I might not have a lot of it, but it’s getting to the length where I start to feel like a mermaid when I get out of the shower.
Speaking of which, today I did something shower related I’ve never done before – for the first time I brought a change of clothes with me to the gym and showered as soon as I’ve finished working out.
I was a little nervous to check out the state of its facilities, what with how dodgy the place is overall.
But despite the exposed pipes, and broken fan, I have to say I was pleasantly surprised.
It was very clean, with good water pressure, and honestly, quite a large stall.
I don’t know if I’m going to start pulling this stunt on a daily basis, but during the time that I’m living in a house without resources for bathing (kitchen sink not included) it’s a good reserve to fall back on.
The only fly in the ointment being that between my regular gym gear that I schlep with me to work, and the extra shower stuff I had to add to my kit, today I was (and tomorrow I will be) a bag lady and a half.
And a half!
Alas, t’is the price you pay for cleanliness.
SAW: These Air Canada Ads
Okay, a while back I wrote a post about the first generation of these Air Canada ads, focusing on (what I thought to be) a very white-washed advertising campaign.
Here you are, marketing flights to large, Asian cities (each one, need I point out, very different from the other) and you have an all white cast, some of which are dressed in non-descript “Asian” dress, or holding chopsticks, or, what is that, practicing some kind of martial art?
It’s painful just looking at them.
Seriously, has one person who worked on this campaign done any of the following?
- Gone to Hong Kong/Beijing/Seoul
- Looked at the majority of individuals flying back and forth between Vancouver and these cities, and then bothered to notice what they looked like.
- Gone out anywhere in the Lower Mainland and registered that its population is incredibly diverse, and not in fact racially homogenous.
It just boggles my mind (and also makes me laugh, because believe-you-me folks, I used to work at the airport and I’m very well versed will all of these Air Canada flights, and I know who is travelling on them, and it doesn’t matter if they are Canadian, Chinese, or Korean, but the average traveller does not look like this:
And I’m not saying that they cannot use white models in their campaign, but a little variety wouldn’t kill them either.
At the very least it wouldn’t make them look so casually racist, and overwhelmingly tone deaf.
WANT TO DO: Make out with Richard Hammond.
Because I am an ENFJ (extrovert, intuitive, feeling, and judging) on the Myers Briggs personality test, change to my regular routine is something I try to avoid at all costs. So as you can imagine, when I’m confronted by minor disturbances (such as having no working bathtub) my rabid need to control everything (and then not being able to do so) drives me a bit batty.
But just a bit.
In an attempt to help me calm down, I have been watching episodes of Top Gear on Netflix, drinking hot chocolate, and eating thousands of mini marshmallows.
I just started watching the show last week, and oh boy is it funny.
It hilarious and entertaining, and I enjoy Jeremy Clarkson’s acerbic wit, and it would be pretty fab to have the chance to play checkers against James May, sitting out on a lanai somewhere on Oahu’s North coast (in my imagination).
But mostly more than anything, I want to have a good old fashioned snog fest (in the parlance of his country) with Mr. Hammond (also in my imagination.)
He’s cute as hell, plus I get a kick out of the idea that in work shoes I’d be over half a foot taller than him. It would be just like every single high school dance I ever went to. Throw in some Mario Kart, late night McDonald’s runs, and a ton of laugh-fuelled bumbling and fumbling, and you pretty much have my grade eleven relationship down to a tee.
Plus – he’s from Brum, the city that owns a good chunk of my heart.
(And in terms of famous people who’ve come out of Birmingham, I’d definitely choose him over Frank Skinner and Ozzy Osborne.)
So there you have it folks.
DID. SAW. WANT TO DO.
And to finish off, if may ask, what are some weird things you’ve been up to this week? Seen anything barmy in the extreme? And who are you jonesing for a sweet, sweet lip-lock (if too, only in your imagination)?
Let me know, and I’ll think about it the next time I’m washing my hair (in or outside of my kitchen.)