Monday, April 29, 2013

Moroccan Oil

I used to really quite like getting haircuts. I'm talking about back when my mother went to the hairdresser with me and it was she who was blamed if my hair was too unkempt or tangled or dry or goodness knows what other manner of things can be wrong with your hair. Anyway, in those days, my mother would get an earful, I'd get a haircut, and I, at least, would go home with a clear conscience.

However, in the past, er, several years since I have been going to get haircuts without my mother, I've found myself in rather a tetchy mood after the fact because the whole experience feels a bit too much like being caught without your homework.

"What shampoo are you using?!" the hairdresser is wont to cry.

And of course I am always stupid enough to tell the truth, which is that I'm using some kind that I don't know what it's called from the drugstore (when I should of said I'm using the really expensive kind that they sell in the hair salon I'm in). And then the hairdresser is all like "Tsk, tsk," and impresses upon me that I really must buy the expensive stuff. And I'm such a gigantic sucker that half the time I actually do, use it for all of one day, then put it in a drawer somewhere, forget I have it, keep using the cheap stuff, and Bob's your uncle, my hair still sucks. Or maybe it would still suck even if I used the expensive stuff! Which incidentally, I discovered today is probably the case.

This brings me to what I really wanted to talk about, which is Moroccan Oil.

For those not in the know, Moroccan Oil is the expensive stuff. It is the exact thing they love to push upon you in the hair salon. It is not what Pharaoh's daughter was using when she discovered baby Moses while bathing in the Nile, although it sort of sounds like it is DESPITE the fact that that event did not take place in Morocco, which is some ingenious marketing if you really think about it. The marketing is honest, however, insofar as this product is oily. So oily, in fact, that I put it in my hair a full day ago and my hands are still oily. So oily that the oiliness has seeped beneath my skin and affected my personality.

As for my hair, immediately after infusing it with Moroccan Oil, I went to the hairdresser who advised me that I need to buy Moroccan Oil, the selfsame product that I already had in my hair. So long story short, if you happen to be in Germany either today or tomorrow and you see a Canadian girl with really oily hair walking around and she happens to really skeevily ask for your digits, well, you know who to blame.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

10 Things That Make Me Happy

The now defunct Domino mag used to have a feature called "10 Things That Make Me Happy" that was always on the last page of the issue. I have no idea how you got selected to be the person whose 10 things got to appear, but I'll admit I was extremely disappointed when the magazine folded a number of years ago as it meant my lifelong dream of being that person would never be fulfilled.

But then I realized (just now, funnily enough) that I could simply tell whoever is reading this about what 10 things would make me happy. So please just pretend this screen is very glossy and there is a picture of me looking very chic sitting in my sweet little apartment or something right in front of you, as well as a pic of each of the following things:

1) Toaster ovens. Those pop-up toasters - why do they even exist? Do I want to turn on my entire fricking oven just to make a pizza bagel? I think not! Toaster ovens are the shiz. If you don't have one, that's kind of like not owning a pair of shoes or something. Okay, maybe it's not exactly like that. But almost.

2) Tylenol. I indicated in this post over two years ago that I find Tylenol to be a kind of ingenious invention despite the fact that it only cures physical ailments. I still find it ingenious 'cause you know what? Curing physical ailments is a pretty good start. I don't know whether I can truthfully say that Tylenol actually makes me happy; however, I can say that it often makes me happier.

3) Slippers. I have been living in Germany for the past two years, and while I find practically everything about German culture and society to be sort of like amusing meets ridiculous, the one thing I have quite warmed to in this country is the people's overzealous fondness for wearing slippers. In fact, my main nod to assimilating seems to be the fact that I have a minor panic attack every time I find myself inside a private residence without them on. It feels like I've been found naked in public.

4) Tetris. It's things that go on top of other things! Genius. I dare you to play this game and not have literally the best day of your entire life. This will include the day of your first kiss, the day you bought your first car, your wedding day, etc.

5) Sheldon from Big Bang Theory. I know this show mostly kind of sucks, except that Sheldon is funny. The Jewish guy? No that funny. Indian guy? Also not that funny. All the girls? Totally not funny. But Sheldon? Hysterical. I could watch that guy all day.

6) When my hair looks good. It makes me happy, okay???!!!

7) Having a washing machine in my actual apartment. This one thing has made my life like one thousand million times better. I am not exaggerating.

8) Having a dryer in my actual apartment. See above.

9) When I manage to parallel park without bringing disaster upon myself. The feeling of excitement this brings me cannot be described.

10) The Anthropologie catalogue. To be perfectly honest with you, this doesn't make me very happy at all. In fact, seeing people who are far better-dressed than I and who apparently also have far more tastefully appointed homes makes me feel slightly depressed. However, I still get excited every time I see the Anthropologie catalogue, isn't that weird? I knew there was some reason I was putting it on this list.

So what are some of the things that make y'all happy, then?

Friday, April 26, 2013

Real Comeback

After my admittedly false comeback in December, I am going to attempt to bring this blog back for real.

The reason I haven't been writing much is simple: I haven't had much to say because I have been feeling a bit crappy about my life. I'm going to pin the blame on Facebook for that.

This is what my life feels like much of the time:

Wake up-boring-boring-boring-boring-boring-boring-boring-boring.

I'm thinking I should probably just stop going on Facebook altogether, because when I scroll down my newsfeed, it seems to me that everyone else's life goes something like this:

Wake up! To breakfast in bed from the most awesomely romantic sweetie ever, for no reason except it's Tuesday! Can you believe my perfectly clean, tastefully decorated bedroom?! Go to job that is so sweet and interesting you probably can't believe it's even a job! Go home! Make spectacular gourmet meal with sweetie! Go to sleep in tastefully decorated bedroom! Wow! Best day ever and it was just a totally normal day!

Now, I will tell you that the perpetually single shtick I had going on when I first started this blog is no more, and I do have a very nice bf. However, the day he brings me breakfast in bed on a random Tuesday will probably be the same day that four horsemen come storming out of the sky to announce the coming of the Apocalypse. Our apartment could use a once-over with a vacuum and probably a few pictures on the walls. And if by gourmet meal you mean toast and peanuts, then yes. And I'm pretty sure I speak for everyone I seem to actually encounter in person when I say that work is work. You know, like, work.

So what gives, dudes? Are you all kind of lying, or does my life really just suck?