This picture of Chloe with her prize two-foot rawhide, a special gift from my Mother-in-Law, reminds me of something Mr. Bones, the dog (and central character) in Paul Auster's novel, Timbuktu said:
"If you can't eat it or screw it, piss on it."
We watched a lot of game shows while we were on vacation. I'm not sure what collectively came over the group but the lot of us simultaneously came down with an addiction to Card Sharks. On this particular day, one of the questions was something like, "We asked 100 married women if it was love at first sight" and then inevitably, Jerry asked my sister-in-law if it was love at first sight when she met him. My sister-in-law does not mince words. She said no.
I had hoped that if I just sat quietly the question would not come around to me, but of course, it did. I just don't feel it's a yes or no question. Even if it was, it's hard to answer when a room full of people is staring straight into the very depths of my soul. So I gave the short answer: No.
But the longer answer is problably Yes.
When you've been talking to someone for months and months on-line and shared more than you'd ever share with a friend (except perhaps a friend who's been with you through the worst of the worst) or on a date - especially a first date - it's impossible to feel anything other than love for that person when you meet them. I'm not sure how you could really feel anything else or if "love" is even the word for that moment, the culmination of all those silent, late-night conversations.
I think there must be "love at first sight" if two people are somehow willing to carry on a long distance relationship for a couple of years based on that meeting, before making a permanent arrangement. And if there isn't, at the end of the day does it really matter if it was love at first sight when a couple is able ride it out through all the dirty day-to-day details of a relationship? Isn't that the important thing?
But that's not really the kind of answer I seem to be able to say out loud. Probably wasn't the kind of answer my brother-in-law was looking for anyway.
I went out Christmas shopping with my folks yesterday. I had found some sweet little wire star-shaped ornaments that I thought would be pleasing to our grandmothers. I had some crafty plans for them but I screwed up and bought only three ornaments. We meant to go back for another one, but the place was closed by the time we were finished at all the other places we had to go to. I planned to go back at some point this week.
We are heading back to Pennsylvania so much sooner than expected. The eerie fact that I bought three ornaments and there are now just three grandmothers hangs rather thickly in the air here.
- Leonard Cohen -
It seemed the better way
When I first heard him speak
But now it's much too late
To turn the other cheek
It sounded like the truth
It seemed the better way
Though no one but a fool
Would bless the meek today
I wonder what it was
I wonder what it meant
This rising up with love
This lying down with death
Better hold my tongue
Better know my place
Cup of blood with everyone
Try to say the Grace
I think windmills are some of the most beautiful things on earth. These six windmills alone produce 2.4 million kilowatt hours of clean energy per year and light the Statue of Liberty's torch, among other things.
So around 9 pm last night we drove by Best Buy on our way home from Thanksgiving dinner at Aunt Joyce's and there was already a line-up outside. My husband, who was apparently suffering from Black Friday Dementia, high-tailed it out to Delaware and got in line before 10. The store was opening at 5 am.
Meanwhile, the rest of us watched a leisurely hour and a half of Grey's Anatomy and went to bed.
The Bowman Women headed out to JoAnn Fabrics promptly at 6 am this morning. Yes, JoAnn Fabrics. Perhaps we're not very cool, but we weren't surviving a mobscene shopping for electronics either. Everything was very peaceful at JoAnn Fabrics. Except at the cutting table. It looked a little hairy over there. I got a pair of fabric scissors, pinking shears, pins, a tracing wheel and a bunch of other very exciting sewing stuff for 50% off. Then my sis-in-law gave me a 20% off your entire purchase coupon. All my crap only came to $21. God bless Black Friday. That was the extent of my Black Friday shopping. I don't withstand crowds very well.
Kev met us at JoAnn Fabrics (we had coordinated our plans last night) to tell us the story of his camp-out. In a nutshell, by 5:10 he had determined that Best Buy did not get any more Wiis in stock and he went to stand in the line at Target. Target was opening at 6 am. Target did not have any Wiis. I gather he then went to a few other places, but evidently Delaware is Wii-less. When he couldn't think of any other stores to check, he drove home to tell us his tale of woe.
My father-in-law, Kev and I departed JoAnn Fabrics and went home. It's now 5 pm and we've had a nap, a nice lunch, driven into Philly for a hockey game (woo hoo, we won!), come home, had a snack, watched some TV and my mom-in-law and sis-in-law are still shopping. Those two are seriously hardcore yo.
- So you think my hair cut is stupid?
- Les, what? I did not say that at all. I like your hair cut.
- You called me Rod Stewart.
- I called you Rod. I did not call you Rod Stewart.
- Oh really, so which Rod were you talking about? Rod Roddy?
- Umm, no ... Rodney Dangerfield.
- You could have also gone with Rowdy Roddy Piper.
After a visit with Kev's grandma in Jersey, we drove into the city to check out Art Star. I found it a little strange stepping into a space filled with work by people who's blogs I read. I saw stuff by Camilla Engman, Amy Karol and Leya Williams among others I recognized. I was going to purchase this print which I'd picked out before we even left Toronto but when I got there I was captivated by one of Leya's three-dimensional collages and found I could not leave without it. Kevin seems miffed that I bought something he thinks I can make myself (maybe I could, but it's unlikely I would) and I don't know how to explain why it seems so special to me but I love it.
Anyway. Art Star was fantastic. You should check it out if you're in Philly. I will definitely visit again, hopefully with more money in my pocket. It was such a shame I had to leave with only one thing.
A lot of people have told me how brave and daring I am for changing my hair cut so much or just for having short hair in general. They say, "Oh, I could never." Why? It's just hair. It grows back. The only thing is with short hair, you have to be prepared to take the good with the bad. Sometimes you get a really bad hair cut and there's nothing you can do about it. Hairbands and barrettes are helpful but can't compare to a bun or a ponytail for concealing the mess for two months while the atrocity grows out. Maybe short hair teaches you how to rise above adversity.
My last hair cut was really bad. Worse than the one where I swore to single-handedly bring the hairband back into vogue. I didn't have time to get my hair fixed before we left for Pennsylvania so I asked my sister-in-law to make me an appointment with her stylist, Chrissi. I think the whole family goes to Chrissi, and her shop is two seconds down the street. You really can't beat her for convenience. Chrissi and her assistant did all the up-do's for my sis-in-law's wedding. I had been growing my hair out for the wedding but by the time it rolled around it still didn't seem long enough for any up-do. It was commonly held that I had tried in vain but Chrissi's team got it all up into a rather spectacular 'do and at the reception a lot of people asked me if I was wearing a wig or extensions! I figured if Chrissi could work this miracle she could fix my hair.
I love Chrissi and her shop. Chrissi herself, kind of reminds me of Peg Bundy. Her face is always perfectly made up and you can pretty much guarantee there will be some kind of glitz or faux fur on her shirt. Actually, the first time I met her she was wearing a velour leopard print number. She usually has several gold bangles jingling on her wrist. Her shop is just a shop. Nothing fancy. It probably needs to be redone, but I like it the way it is with its cracking floor tiles, and the 80s pink reception desk and mirrors. The capes are leopard print. If I saw this in a salon in Toronto, I'd worry, but at Chrissi's I know I'm in good hands.
Chrissi took a look at the monster and set to work. My last hair cut was this ridiculous assymetrical bullshit and poor Chrissi really had her work cut out for her. More than once she had to change her plan because she'd discover a hunk of hair much shorter than the rest left by the last psycho stylist. When I entered the shop I was entertaining the notion that maybe I'd just grow my hair out and have a bob for awhile. Exiting, I was remembering why I cut my hair off in the first place, because short hair is FUN.
I tried to tip Chrissi but she threw the money back at me. I pleaded, "Chrissi, I paid less than half what I would pay at home and I actually have a GOOD hair cut now, take it, TAKE IT!!!" She just said, "Oh don't be silly." I'm left wondering two things, what's she going to do if I just mail the tip to her and how am I going to get Chrissi move to Canada.