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vrijdag 21 februari 2014
woensdag 19 februari 2014
Hair obsessions
This morning at the hairdresser's.
A: Well, it's funky *) again.
B: Indeed. And you know what's best? I don't have to worry if the boyfriend will like it.
A: Ah, still single?
B: Absolutely and planning to keep it that way. I think I'm actually shooting "Leave me alone" rays. Pew, pew, pew.
*) Note that she didn't use the word "special". Smart woman, that.
*) Note that she didn't use the word "special". Smart woman, that.
Ours is the only civilization in history which has enshrined mediocrity as its national ideal. *)
The world isn't kind to mavericks Bill,
you want to lead an unconventional life,
you gotta learn to hide in plain sight.
Barton Scully - Masters of Sex **)
This post has been brewing for a few months now.
The word "special" (or its Flemish nominalisation to describe a person - specialleke - note the diminutive) has given me some food for thought of late.
I heard it to describe me choosing my spectacles, because they're constructed upside down, "Your glasses are different - but of course you chose them as you're a special person."
It's been used to comment on my craft projects, "Always something special, huh? It looks difficult!"
I've been told that my recent life changes also mark me as special.
So, what is it?
A compliment?
An expression of annoyance?
A warning?
A sign of the new Biedermeier / Victorian Age?
Dare I ask the next person's motivation for using that word, or will that be perceived as something only a specialleke would ask?
I have been invisible for too long to content myself with mediocrity.
*) The Moviegoer (1961) by Walker Percy
**) "I think one of the daring aspects of the show is how Beau Bridges has been portrayed as a fully rounded man who is a closeted gay, who is living a lie in one sense and yet seems to be an all-American success story. This has never been portrayed on TV like that. I think Beau has been amazing. At age 72, with all of his accomplishments, to take on such a complicated role that is breaking so many taboos is extraordinary. He has my everlasting gratitude." Thomas Maier, author of Masters of Sex
dinsdag 18 februari 2014
Don't misunderstand this one
“Stay single.
I only say this because when you’re young and in love, everyone thinks they’re the exception. Sure maybe mom and dad slept in separate beds and then separate rooms, maybe the older couples you know bicker or fight, maybe they don’t talk at all if they ever did.
At your age, you can’t imagine it will ever be you, but it will be. Which is bad enough but what’s ever worse is how much you’ll feel like a failure because when the person who knows you best loses interest, that really takes something out of you—like surgery almost—and you really start to wonder if you’ll ever be whole again.”
— Margaret Scully in Masters of Sex
I only say this because when you’re young and in love, everyone thinks they’re the exception. Sure maybe mom and dad slept in separate beds and then separate rooms, maybe the older couples you know bicker or fight, maybe they don’t talk at all if they ever did.
At your age, you can’t imagine it will ever be you, but it will be. Which is bad enough but what’s ever worse is how much you’ll feel like a failure because when the person who knows you best loses interest, that really takes something out of you—like surgery almost—and you really start to wonder if you’ll ever be whole again.”
— Margaret Scully in Masters of Sex
It's my party so I'll bail if I want to
My birthday has been a rather unpleasant event for me for a long time now. I don't remember when it started. But this year, turning 37, it had to stop.
I booked myself a city trip to Prague, February 4th-6th. Why Prague? "Because Helsinki was already completely booked", I like to quip. I had my flight tickets, knew in which part of the city my hotel was and that there was a big Alphonse Mucha exhibition I wanted to see. Apart from packing, those were the only preparations I had made.
So upon arriving at Vaclav Havel airport, I had to figure out how to get to my hotel without being ripped off by taxi drivers. A shuttle bus delivered me in the center of the city, where I immediately spotted a supermarket of a common Austrian chain. I felt at home!
It was freezing cold and it took me a little while to get my bearings with the help of a small tourist map, but then I was on my way to the hotel. 4km walk at 0°C after nightfall (only 6pm though) in a country where a language is spoken that I don't understand. Which also makes it difficult to memorize street names, as I soon realized. I saw much of city center, passed by Kampa museum with its disturbing baby sculptures, walked under Charles' Bridge and ended up asking for directions at an Ibis hotel approximately 300m from my actual destination. Close enough ;)
The hotel was fine, had some Central European charme to it, but unfortunately I didn't feel very safe there and also had an allergic reaction to the detergent used for towels and sheets. I was in for a sleepless itchy 2 nights' stay...
The city itself however was beautiful beyond belief. I loved wandering around, retracing last evening's steps in daylight (and still cold weather). I took a few pictures, but not too many, as I wanted to experience Prague with my own eyes - not through a lense.
I booked myself a city trip to Prague, February 4th-6th. Why Prague? "Because Helsinki was already completely booked", I like to quip. I had my flight tickets, knew in which part of the city my hotel was and that there was a big Alphonse Mucha exhibition I wanted to see. Apart from packing, those were the only preparations I had made.
So upon arriving at Vaclav Havel airport, I had to figure out how to get to my hotel without being ripped off by taxi drivers. A shuttle bus delivered me in the center of the city, where I immediately spotted a supermarket of a common Austrian chain. I felt at home!
It was freezing cold and it took me a little while to get my bearings with the help of a small tourist map, but then I was on my way to the hotel. 4km walk at 0°C after nightfall (only 6pm though) in a country where a language is spoken that I don't understand. Which also makes it difficult to memorize street names, as I soon realized. I saw much of city center, passed by Kampa museum with its disturbing baby sculptures, walked under Charles' Bridge and ended up asking for directions at an Ibis hotel approximately 300m from my actual destination. Close enough ;)
The hotel was fine, had some Central European charme to it, but unfortunately I didn't feel very safe there and also had an allergic reaction to the detergent used for towels and sheets. I was in for a sleepless itchy 2 nights' stay...
The city itself however was beautiful beyond belief. I loved wandering around, retracing last evening's steps in daylight (and still cold weather). I took a few pictures, but not too many, as I wanted to experience Prague with my own eyes - not through a lense.
The Mucha exhibition was stunning, I spent hours wandering around, enjoying the detailed sketches, the epic paintings of later years. One floor down in the same building, a Salvador Dali collection was open for visitors too. An admirer of his work since highschool days, I had to pay him a visit too. Now I know: Don't go see Dali's works when sleep-deprived. A walking nightmare.
For lunch I treated myself to Vietnamese, as I had stumbled across one and had heard one of my students praise this cuisine many years ago. I'd like to say he was right, but that day in Prague I wasn't convinced. A negative factor that cannot be ignored was the fact that smoking is still allowed in many restaurants and cafés in CZ. Another reminder of my Central European upbringing in the 1980s & 1990s...
The afternoon was dominated by my attempts to find the Fashion Museum. I think I spent hours looking for it and when I finally found it - well... Let's call it quaint. What was announced as "The Czech Republic's first fashion museum with vintage shop" was... well, one room, some clothes and shoes along one wall and "the history of the little black dress" on 4 mannequins along the other. But hey, it was free and warm.
After buying a picture postcard I walked back to my hotel, but sleep was elusive again and I couldn't wait to make my way back to the airport by public transport.
I'll definitely return to Prague one day, but I will stay away from Hotel Petr and its detergents.
Maybe I'll be celebrating my 38th in Helsinki.
For lunch I treated myself to Vietnamese, as I had stumbled across one and had heard one of my students praise this cuisine many years ago. I'd like to say he was right, but that day in Prague I wasn't convinced. A negative factor that cannot be ignored was the fact that smoking is still allowed in many restaurants and cafés in CZ. Another reminder of my Central European upbringing in the 1980s & 1990s...
The afternoon was dominated by my attempts to find the Fashion Museum. I think I spent hours looking for it and when I finally found it - well... Let's call it quaint. What was announced as "The Czech Republic's first fashion museum with vintage shop" was... well, one room, some clothes and shoes along one wall and "the history of the little black dress" on 4 mannequins along the other. But hey, it was free and warm.
After buying a picture postcard I walked back to my hotel, but sleep was elusive again and I couldn't wait to make my way back to the airport by public transport.
I'll definitely return to Prague one day, but I will stay away from Hotel Petr and its detergents.
The Ballad of Lucy Jordan
At the age of 37
She knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris
With the warm wind in her hair
She knew she'd found forever
As she rode along through Paris
With the warm wind in her hair
An all-time favourite of mine, I don't remember not knowing this song.
I thought about it often last year, becoming ever more determined not to end up like Lucy.
For my 37th birthday I didn't go to Paris.
I chose Prague.
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