In The Running

I seem to have taken up running.
I know. Nobody's more surprised than me. I'm positively allergic to exercise and I hate sweating. I don't stand when I can sit, and I don't sit when I can lie down. I take naps for fun. The only part of my body that I voluntarily move is my eyeballs when I am reading, and my forearm to bring the beverage of choice up to my mouth.
So, believe me, this decision to run was not taken lightly.

I came to the conclusion that, if I want to eat the way I want to, I'm going to have to move around a little more, lest I become the size and shape of the couch I occupy. And if there's one lesson I've learned from my parents and the generation before me, it's that if you don't use it, you will lose it; sloth makes aging considerably more difficult. So, I did some research to find out what would give me the most bang for my exercising buck, and running came up trumps.

I used to go to a gym, I tried several gyms, in fact, and I hated them, loathed everything about them. I spent the entire time working out shreiking at myself in my head, "come on, ten more minutes on this freaking horrible treadmill, keep going, keep going, is that ten minutes, OH MY GOD, it's only been two minutes, stop being such a wuss, keep walking damn it, I want to stop NOW when will it end???" It was exhausting. And the people who worked at the gym, who were decidedly puzzled at my lack of enthusiasm, would inevitably suggest going to a class, like somehow organized, scheduled torture was more appealing. And for this I paid forty bucks a month. Finally, when the kids and I went to the beach one day and I had to scale a considerable sand hill and I was wheezing and gasping like a chain-smoking geriatric, I decided that the gym was doing me no good at all, and I quit.

After a little asking and thinking, I decided that running included putting on a pair of shoes and walking out my front door and just running until I wanted to come home. Even I can manage twenty minutes out my day for that. And so I have, for a month now. And although I can't say I love running, I certainly don't hate it, which is huge for me. At least the shreiking in my head is quiet enough.

Things About My Brother

It was my big brother's 50th birthday yesterday, so here are The Things You Ought To Know About My Brother:

• He's scary smart. I don't think there's a single thing he can't explain. Whether it's about finance or physics or filet mignon, he knows all about it.
• He's the best direction giver ever. Seriously, if you need to know how to get to a certain intersection in Ulaan Bator, I have no doubt he'd be able to give you detailed and accurate directions that would be invaluable.
• He's one of the funniest people I know. Few people on the planet can make me laugh so hard I feared for my health. You should hear him speak Russian with a Scottish accent.
• He drove a cab in Toronto for a year to finance a 3 month trip to Greece and Turkey. I'd be way too much of a wuss to have done either. He said he spoke to people in his cab like he never dreamt he'd ever speak to anyone in his life.
• He's a really, really good cook. Once he had the fire department come to his house when he was bar-b-queing some lamb because one of the neighbours was concerned about the smoke coming from the back yard. And when the firefighters found out it wasn't a fire, they asked for the recipe for the lamb.
• He introduced me to Van Morrison, Elvis Costello, Warren Zevon and the Talking Heads. I'm eternally grateful.
• When I was in hairdressing school he bravely let me learn how to trim beards on him.
• He was smart enough to marry his wife, who is awesome, and owns her own chocolate company.
• He still ties his shoes the way he did when he was 5, that is, by making two rabbit ears with the laces and looping them together. I guess it's been working all these years, why change now?
• He once convinced me when I was a kid that the two tiny moles on my neck were vampire bites, and that instead of dying I would walk the earth forever seeking the blood of others.
• He also told me that traffic lights make a clicking sound when they change because it allowed blind people to drive. I think I was about 13 before I thought "hey....".

Happy Birthday, John!

Good Things That Happened Today

I'm well aware that I lead a charmed life. (Especially when I spend the past weekend with my divorced friends who calmly relate tales of visits from the police due to psychotic ex-husbands, as if that is just part of normal living.) And then some days are better than others.

• The new Dave Matthews Band CD came out today, and I've listened to it endlessly in an attempt to know all the words by this time next week, when Big Liver Girl and I go to Toronto to see our Rock and Roll Boyfriends.


• The sun is shining and the air is clear, the birds are singing, Toby is dozing in the breezeway and I don't have to put on coats or boots or shovel anything.


• I started my "Learn to Run" class last night (I know, nobody is more surprised than me.) and I didn't embarrass myself at all. I was afraid I'd finish as a weepy, wheezy heap by the end of the class, but I managed to look presentable the whole time.


• Thing 2 had a track meet at Thing 1's high school today, and I had a chance to visit with Thing 1 during her lunch break. Not only did I get to put a face to the names of all the kids she's been talking about all year ("That's the Oompah-Loompah Kid") I met one of her teachers and a cafeteria lady. I'm pretty sure most of the kids in that school would not happily show their mothers around for the better part of an hour, and I'm pumped that mine did and we had such a good time together.


• Thing 2's track meet went well, and although she didn't place, it was fun nonetheless. She was happy enough to get a piece of pizza and call it a day.


• The jacket that I had my eye on in Eddie Bauer was sold out of my size, thereby saving me $99.

And the day's not even over yet!

Sharks In Quebec

I was away in Quebec with 6 of my favorite people on the planet for the weekend. The Mother Sharks went away for four days together, and my stomach muscles are just now recovering from the non-stop laughing.

We set off most efficiently on Thursday afternoon at around 3 and arrived in the Laurentians at midnight. You've got to love a bunch of mothers; everyone was waiting with their bags packed when the van arrived, and with kleenex and garbage bags, too.

Its usually an 8 hour trip, but with the rush-hour traffic in Toronto and 7 bladders of various capacities, we added an extra hour to the journey. I love a good road trip; one of the rules is that there are no calories in a moving car, so that means that copious amounts of potato chips and chocolate and coffee, as well as the occasional cheeseburger, are perfectly acceptable fare. (Also, in case you were wondering, there are no calories in other provinces or foreign countries. Those rules are important to know.)

We spent most of the ride and the weekend talking non-stop and making each other laugh so hard and so long that I'm pretty sure it qualifies as a cardio workout.

Big Liver Girl and I managed to get some fly fishing in, which was sort of the main goal of our trip. The rest of the ladies watched and took pictures, with very good humor. We made them walk in the woods, which was good for them...some of those princesses needed to get outside.

Here is a picture of me fishing; don't I look like I know what I'm doing? Here I am demonstrating that I have no idea what I'm doing, I've managed to hook my sleeve. It was the only thing I caught the whole time. Here is Big Liver Girl and I enjoying the day. I think we both just liked the outfits. During one harrowing rescue of a hook on a rock in the river, Big Liver Girl had to borrow my waders (hers were still in the car at the time) and we both discovered, when we got into the river, that the left foot leaked a LOT. I somehow managed to drop her right boot into the river while I was trying to put it on (long story, don't ask) and then we discovered that the entire bum seam of my waders was blown out, and we were lucky that they didn't fill up with water entirely and drown one of us. Near death experiences make for a most exciting fishing trip.

We came home last night around supper time, happy and tired and delightfully pleased with ourselves. It was a magical weekend.

Thanks Sharks.

Products I Love

1. President’s Choice Butter Chicken sauce I've tried to make Indian food at home on numerous occasions, and after what feels like hours of chopping, sauteeing and simmering, it seems to end up looking a lot like baby poo, and smelling only slightly better. But The President makes a Butter chicken sauce that is wonderful, and requires only opening a jar.
2. L’oreal Voluminous Mascara I possess only four very long, very dark eyelashes on each lid, and making them look like normal person eyelashes is a lot of work. I've tried almost every mascara on the planet that promises to make my eyelashes look full and lush and thick, and L'Oreal's is the only one that seems to actually make that happen.
3. Keri Lotion For many reasons, I am glad to have been born in the late 20th century: antibiotics, modern dentistry, cheap and abundant chocolate. But had I been born in an earlier time, I'm sure I'd have died prematurely, simply because my skin would have blown right off me. I have the driest skin imaginable. I am very grateful for Keri Lotion, because it is blissfully moisturizing, and it leaves a nice, sort of shiny finish to my skin. And I like looking like I'm made out of latex.
4. Glad press and seal It's the most expensive cling wrap you can buy, but, man does it do the job. You can seal that sucker down on almost any bowl or plate or to itself and make a near indestructable seal that stays put. Worth every penny.
5. Neutrogena Healthy skin lotion This is the stuff I put on my face. (For reasons inexplicable to me, women use one kind of stuff on their faces and another kind of lotion on their bodies. I'm sure there is not a lick of difference between the two products, but I'm been brainwashed like everyone else to believe there is, so I persist, even though I'm well aware of it.) This is great stuff; it has an SPF of 15, so lazy slobs like me don't have to put on sunscreen as well, it's got an alpha-hydroxy acid in it, so my skin never looks dull or flakey, and, best of all, it's cheap.
6. Tetley tea My mother, who takes her tea very seriously, uses only Tetley tea, and therefore, so do I. I once tried to save, oh, about 35 cents by buying the store brand tea, and rued the day, let me tell you. It was awful stuff, and my mother has not quite forgiven me for serving it to her. We still can't laugh about it yet.
7. Frizz-Ease by John Frieda You can beleive me when I say I have tried every imaginable product on the market to tame frizzy hair. (I think one of the reasons I became a hairdresser was to support my hair product habit.) And you can also believe me when I say that few people have the ridiculous access to the cornicopia of hair products out there that I do. So when I say that Frizz-Ease by John Frieda is the best hair de-frizzer out there, believe that, too.
8. Lindor chocolate My sister-in-law actually owns her own chocolate company. which is stupendous, and you really should find some of her stuff immediately. And I am endlessly in awe of someone who wants a certain kind of chocolate so badly that she would set up her own company to make it....I mean, that is dedication. And she has badly ruined me for any sort of mediocre chocolate at all. I can't be bothered with Kit Kats or Aeros now, it's Belgian and Swiss chocolate for me all the way. When there's no Hazelnut Crunch to be had, Lindors Truffles are a very nice alternative.
9. Pampered chef stone ware Many moons ago, I sold Pampered Chef products, mostly because I am a kitchen gadget junkie and it was a good way to get some at a discount and not endanger my marriage. Anyway, one of the things I discovered along the way is their stoneware baking sheets, cake pans and roasting dishes. They are genius. Because they are porous, things crisp up way better than on metal, and although food can over cook, it doesn't seem to burn as easily. And you just give it a good scrubbing with hot water (NO SOAP!) and they are clean. I don't know what I'd do without them.
10. Smuckers Seed-Free Jam Raspberry jam with seeds is pure torture. Smuckers makes a tasty, fruity jam without seeds at all, and it's amazing how much better your day goes when you aren't picking seeds out of your teeth.
11. OPI Nail Polish The Cadillac of nail polishes. Fabulous colours, it goes on beautifully and stays on for days and days.
    

11.

Bad Advice

When you are growing up, people who have already been there, done that, are inclined to dole out advice to give you a heads up about what you are facing. Because most of it comes from hard and bitter experience, I’m inclined to give the doler-outer the benefit of the doubt and accept that the advice is probably good. At lease until proven otherwise. Occasionally, one gets advice that is dubious in both intent and content, and sadly, it’s not until you have a bit of your own hard and bitter experience that you can tell the difference. Among the bad bits I have gotten are:

• 
  Relationships are hard. Actually, no, they are not. BAD relationships are hard. Good relationships, whether it be friends, families or romantic entanglements, hum along quite nicely if the participants are suited to one another and are invested in making the relationship work. There is very little point in working on a bad relationship. Because it is bad.
• 
  Give the client something new every time. Once I got this piece of advice from another, more experienced hairdresser, and, because I am a very slow learner, it took me ages to figure out that this was not really good advice at all. Lots and lots of clients want their hair trimmed; same style only shorter. End of story. When a client asks for a “trim”, give it to them, rather than working yourself and them into a lather trying to work in something new.
• 
  Who needs a second language? I foolishly dropped French in university, because the classes were at 8:30 and there were two labs in a week. How stupid was I? Instead of going to an academic counselor to see if I could change it, I instead asked my friends, who came up with that gem. And I BELIEVED THEM.
• 
  You can sleep when you’re dead. Spending every Christmas for about 6 years flat out on the couch heaving and groaning and wishing I were dead because I was sick as a dog had taught me that when I burn the candle at both ends, I pay dearly for it. I will get sick if I don’t get my sleep, and no amount of wishing it were otherwise will change that.
• 
  Just get 2000 together and we can start investing for your retirement. If I had known then what I know now, I would have started investing teeny-tiny amounts in my retirement and taking advantage of compound interest years ago. Instead, I had a financial genius tell me this bit of advice when I was making minimum wage and still living at home. $2000 may as well have been 2 million dollars for all the spare change I had in my pocket. I wish I had known that I could have started with 10 bucks. Maybe I’d be retired by now.

Dos and Don'ts At the Hair Salon

I've worked in a hair salon for 27 years now, so I'm pretty sure how to behave there. Judging from the number of questions I get about hair salon ettiquette, it's a mysterious and murky subject, fraught with potential faux-pas, and immiment embarrassment. I had no idea. But, I have no clue how to behave at the monster truck rally or at Chinese New Year, so we all have our gaps.
So, as a public service, I offer up the following:

DO:

• Tip the shampoo girl. She doesn't make much, and you will make her day with a two dollar tip. And no, you don't have to tip the owner. In fact, you don't have to tip anyone, it's not a restaurant. (But we really do appreciate it.)
• Come on time. Our number one pet peeve, clients who breeze in 10 minutes late with a Starbucks latte in their hand and have to make a phone call before we start.
• Bring a picture of what you want. It's great to have a starting point in the consultation, even if the starting point is "there is no way in hell I can make any part of you look like Angelina Jolie. Not even your bangs".
• Have an idea of what you want. Saying "I don't know" makes me crazy and you look like a ditzy idiot. Of course you have some idea of what you want; at least you have some idea of what you don't want, don't make me pull it out of you.
• Have a time in mind when you book your appointment. Seems simple, I know, but you wouldn't believe the number of people who call, say they'd like a haircut, and then get all flustered and confused when we ask when they would like it. It's not exactly a surprise question, you know.
• Be discreet. This isn't a big city, and the person in the chair next to you can hear you perfectly well. And that might be your cousin's neighbour who works with your husband who knows who you are, but you don't know who she is. And now she's heard all about the cat hair cookies she supposedly brought to the company Christmas party.
• Eat before you come. I can't cut hair and not get it in your salad, I'm sorry. Physics and all.
• Ask when you book the appointment how long it will be if your time is tight. I don't know how many clients have freaked out because they still have foils in their hair and they have to pick up their kids in 10 minutes. We work on a schedule and it's fairly predictable, all you have to do is ask.
• Change into one of the gowns provided if you are getting colour done (to protect the collar of your shirt) or if you don't want little bits of hair down your back for the rest of the afternoon. Really, that's what they are there for. You can ask to change if it's not offered.
• Complain if there's something you're unhappy about. If we can fix it, believe me, we will. If we can't fix it, we'd certainly like the opportunity to make it right. Our feelings aren't that delicate.

DON'T:

• Lift your head when you are getting shampooed. You're not really helping me as much as you think when you do that. Now, as well as getting all the soap out, I have to make sure I don't shoot water right down your back and get the waistband of your underwear all wet.
• Ask to be squeezed in. There are only so many hours in a day. Mine are full; if I've said I'm booked, that means I don't have any more time available. If I did, I'd say "I can book you in for 2 0'clock. See how that works?
• Tell me about every bad hairstyle you've had since your mother cut your bangs in 4th grade. I don't need to know, it's not a medical history. The only hairstyle of yours that is important to me is the one I'm working on right now. And as for hair colour, I really only want to know about the hair on your head. Seriously.
• Tell me about every lousy hairdresser you've ever had in your entire life. I'm doing my best. And the common denominator in that story is you.
• Cross your legs when you're getting a haircut, particularly a haircut, like a bob, that depends on being very straight across the back. It throws out your posture when you cross your legs at the knees, and makes for some asymmetry that's not always pleasing.
• Ask for a discount. Your discount means a pay cut for me personally, because I get paid on commission. I may not be able to afford that, or want to do that, and you asking me in a very public place puts me in an uncomfortable situation that makes me really, really not want to do you any favors.
• Feel like you have to make conversation. You don't have to be my entertainment committee, you can just relax and enjoy the first opportunity you've probably had in some time to sit in one spot and not say anything.
• Bring your dog to your appointment. I can't believe I have to say that.

Now, I hope your next hair cut will be all the more pleasant. You're welcome.