The straight and the curly of it.

There are two kinds of people in this world. Those with straight hair and those with curly hair.

I have curly hair. Up until very recently, my hair was very long. When it was wet and brushed straight, it was down to my butt. When dry and curly, it was more than midway down my back.

When curly hair starts to dry, the hair starts to curl more and shorten up, because the water isn't weighing the hair down anymore.

Most hairdressers have straight hair, so they don't get this concept.

So today, when I asked a hair dresser to cut my wet hair so it would hang two inches below my shoulder, it ended up hanging above my shoulder when it dried. Luckily, my hair looks okay. And, as a bonus, I'll spend significantly less time doing my hair in the morning.

Straight-haired people don't understand that really long thick curly hair can take up to an hour and a half to do in the morning. Most of that time is spent brushing it out. Today, it took two hair stylists 20 minutes to brush out my hair.

Now that my hair's short, it might take me 10 to 15 minutes to do my hair.

Straight-hair people don't understand that curly hair is a curse. I'm always told I have such beautiful curly hair, but people have no idea how much work goes into my hair.

Anyhow, the 11 inches of my "beautiful" curly locks that were cut off today are going to be donated to a wig maker.

The stylist just couldn't let my hair go to waste.

So weird.

The winner is...

I watched the Oscars for the first time in quite a while.

What made them enjoyable was the people who are overjoyed when they win. You know, the people who cry or jump up and down. It's nice to see people so genuinely thrilled, which can be a rare sight anywhere.

Back to the future...

Some predict that, in the future, computers will be smarter than humans, possibly within my lifetime.

Does this mean one day I can expect to be chased down by a Robert Patrick look-a-like, just because a computer nerd wants to live out some Terminator fantasy of his?

Damnit! This world is screwed up.

In scope...

A useful thought from my horoscope the other day . . .

"What others think of you is just a projection of what you think of you."

Buble Boy

I hate celebrities that whine publicly in an attempt to garner publicity, since any news is good news.

Recently, Michael Buble made headlines when he told Canadian Press he was going to boycott the Grammys because the award he was nominated nominated for -- best traditional pop album -- was not going to be given out during the live televised portion of the show. He also said Tony Bennett, who was nominated in the same category, was likely going to win, so there would be no point in going anyway.

Boo hoo Buble. Most musical artists aren't good enough, or don't have the sales, to be nominated for a Grammy, so quit whining.

Plus he said: "Red carpets suck . . . (People) don't know me. They don't want to talk to me."

Of course, people don't recognize you. You're a crooner and big band singer, plus you're Canadian. A lot of Americans aren't going to recognize you.

If you want to be recognized, join a boy band. Or you could just enjoy the privacy of being a lesser known celeb and shut up.

Buble decided to go to the Grammys in the end. The whole thing was probably a publicity stunt. But I say, if you're going to run your mouth, stand by your words.

Say when...

"My aunt would say, 'say when,' and of course, we never did. We don't say 'when' because there is something about the possibility of more, more tequila, more love, more anything, because more is better ."

Although . . .

"There's something to be said about the glass half full, about knowing when to say 'when.' I think it's a floating line, a barometer of need and desire. It's entirely up to the individual and depends on what's being poured. Sometimes all we want is a taste, other times there is no such thing as enough. The glass is bottomless, and all we want is more." - Dr. Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy.

Ashes to Ashes.

Did you know when you die you can have your ashes painted into a picture?

You can have them embedded into a man-made ocean reef. You can have them put into jewelry and given to a loved one to wear.

Motorcycle Memorials provides a whole line of motorcycle fuel tank urns.

Some people like to have their remains packed into shotgun shells and given to a hunter, who will presumably shoot them into a deer.

Check out Funeria for urns shaped like a rocket and others shaped like a cigar. Talk about putting fun back into the funeral.

Remember folks, coffins are not called coffins anymore. They're vessels.

Weathering People.

There needs to be a weather forecast system for people.

One you could check before meeting up with someone. It would be nice to know if someone is going to be sunny and clear.

Storm warnings would be particularly helpful. That way no one could unexpectedly come in like a tornado, blow you over and be gone again, leaving you to clean up the disaster area.

Mind you, it's not always easy to predict the weather. Those dark clouds can sneak up from anywhere. It seems they can follow you.

Pain and Anger.

"There is no pain. Pain only exists if you allow it," says one of my karate instructors.

I agree completely.

Lately, I've gotten good at compartmentalizing both my physical and emotional pain.

It doesn't mean I don't feel. I just take a few deep breaths and let it go.

If you give into your pain, you run the risk of losing control.

I suppose the same is true with anger.

A crazy wacky world.

There are about 540,000 words in the English language, which is five times as many words as there were in Shakespeare's time, according to Richard Saul Wurman, author of Information Anxiety.

You can thank science and technology for this.

Wurman also says a week's worth of New York Times contains more information than someone in the 17th century was likely to come across in a lifetime.

In one year, an average person will read 3,000 notices and forms, read 100 newspapers and 36 magazines, watch 2,463 hours of television, listen to 730 hours of radio, talk on the telephone for 61 hours and read three books.

Add to that what you read on the Internet and it gets pretty crazy.

Purity and Beauty.

Albert Einstein wrote: “Mozart is of such purity and beauty that one feels he merely ‘found’ it–that it has always existed as part of the inner beauty of the universe waiting to be revealed.”

If only art were created that way.

If only we could stumble upon beauty or a sadness and turn it into art so easily.

I wonder how hard Mozart had to work to make his music seem so simple and transparent. Creating the illusion of simplicity often takes the most work of all.

When art is complex, it's easier for its creator to hide behind those complexities.

Dinged.

In life, always expect the unexpected--the annoyingly inconvenient type, not the happy good kind. (Expecting the happy goods, only leads to disappointment).

My car was backed into today by a monstrous SUV. It did some damage.

Luckily, the lady who did it was honest enough to go door knocking to find the owner of the vehicle (me).

I later spent an hour on the phone talking with an insurance person--most of that time was spent on hold, of course.

I now have to wait two weeks in order to have the damage assessed by an adjuster before I can take my car in to be repaired.

And I need to find a shop that does decent body work.

Damn the unexpected.

It's not easy being a fluff ball.

It's not easy being a cat with the whole hairball thing and all.

The other night I woke up to the sound of my cat retching. She was on my bed, so without thinking I pushed her off so she could throw up on the floor.

Afterwards I thought that wasn't very nice. I wouldn't like to be pushed off the bed if I were trying to throw up.

It's a good thing cats can land on their feet.

Shut-up and bring me my food!

I hate creepy middle-aged men who obnoxiously flirt with young waitresses like they have a chance.

Today, this loud-mouthed jerk, who was sitting between the kitchen and my table, kept trying to chat up the waitress while she was en route with my water, then my food and later the bill.

The guy probably delayed my meal by 30 minutes by grabbing the waitress and asking her a stupid 20 questions while she was trying to bring out my food. Questions like if she'd ever been to Mexico before. He had been.

I was ready to get up and punch the guy out for her, so I could get my food and eat it in peace.

Thanks a lot. Really.

I checked next week's forecast online.

I have an old friend coming in from out of town next week, and I was curious to see if the weather was going to be nice to him during his visit.

Well, there's a high of -4 degrees Celsius and a low of -22 degrees Celsius. That's pretty much the forecast for the whole week.

Basically, it's going to be kind of warm out or kind of cold out. It's good to know the weather could go either way. Though I already knew that before I checked the weather.

That's why meteorologists get paid the big bucks, folks.

Friendship

"The only way to have a friend is to be one." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Friendships are a lot of work. It's very easy to get wrapped up in the here and now of your own life and lose touch with a friend.

And it's easy to assume that everyone already has their own life and isn't interested in hanging out with you, but you don't know until you ask.

According to Life's Little Instruction Calendar Volume XI: "The words, 'Would you like to join me for coffee?' can result in one of the greatest romances of all time." I would add to that friendships as well.

Premature

I am not a fan of toilets that flush automatically, mainly because of premature flushing.

If a toilet flushes while you are sitting down, instead of standing up, you end up getting a bidet experience.

Rest in Peace.

Why is it we get so attached to our favourite actors and the characters they play? It's not like we know them personally.

I've been watching the TV show Angel lately.

In typical Joss Whedon style, one of the main characters, Doyle, was killed off unexpectedly.

I was so upset, I almost cried. Whedon builds characters so well. I felt like I lost a friend.

Anyhow, Doyle was played by Glenn Quinn, probably better known for his role on Roseanne. He was Mark, Becky's husband.

Anyhow, like his character in Angel, Quinn killed himself. Except instead of a heroic act to save a group of immigrants, like in Angel, Quinn killed himself by overdosing on heroin at the age of 32.
When I found that out, I was even more depressed.

Whedon, by the way, got his start writing for Roseanne.

A new beginning...

Beginnings are always rough as you struggle to gain familiarity.

I've been doing karate for five or six years now. My intensity and skill have gone up significantly enough that last spring I was invited to train with the provincial team.

I was feeling pretty good about myself, because it was a long sought after dream of mine. Then I showed up at the first team practice and it was a nightmare. I couldn't keep up and I had my butt kicked by all the team veterans.

So finally I decided I was going to get into better shape, to at least keep up.

Cardio fitness and core muscle strength are important parts of karate. So this year, I signed up for aerobic classes and ball stability classes.

I've always said the more I train karate, the more I feel like a beginner. (There are only so many moves in karate, but there is always something new to learn about executing those moves.) But I forgot what it was like to be a real beginner.

On the first day of aerobics, which is basically an intense dance class, I was stumbling all over my feet. And the ball stability class . . . well, at one point, I fell off the ball, dropping my barbells.

When I started karate I was bad, a stumbling idiot. It took me a year and a half to really catch on.

And now, luckily, by the second aerobics class, the steps were a little easier.

Love/Hate

I hate food that has a smell that lingers on your clothes.

I just came back from having Indian Food. It tasted good, but, two hours later, the smell is starting to get to me.

I'll probably have to change my clothes.