Category Archives: Short ‘n Sweet

I’d like to eat your father’s beard.

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I am pretty sure that caught your attention.

Nasty right? Especially given the crazy beard craze that’s been rife the last few years. Thank you Joaquin Phoenix…NOT. Truth be told, you do manage to get away with most anything, like models on a runway sporting absurd clothes, us mere mortals should not follow suite.

Hear this hipster boys? Make friends with Gillette and I promise it will pay off big time. No matter what they say, as they flutter their lashes over a can of piss –oops I mean Pabst Blue Ribbon– no woman wants to get jiggy jiggy with someone harboring small creatures and last month’s lunch in their facial hair. Scruff, yes. Castaway, no.

Joaquinbeard

Wow, I am seriously digressing.

I was on the road in Bangkok today and I saw a motorbike riding along with around 60 or so multi-pastel colored cotton candy packages. In this town, I am used to seeing motorbikes and tuk-tuks carrying way more than seems scientifically possible. Usually it’s some combination of crates of chickens and giant plastic bags of various  green vegetables that will remain un-named, since I am far from familiar with local produce.

via http://fiestafarms.ca/

This was a nice change of scenery and it got me thinking.

In English we call this melted and spun sugar: cotton candy. Sort of makes sense except few people use cotton balls since the advent of the cotton pad.  In Thai, it is called silk thread. That really makes sense – it is after all threads of sugar spun around like a silk cocoon. The French call it father’s beard. Really? That’s the best we could come up with? Blech. Maybe that’s why as a kid at the summer village fair, I always opted for the gaufre creme chantilly [waffle with fresh whipped cream] and gave daddy’s beard a miss.

So tell me please: what’s cotton candy in your language?

“To This Day” … for the bullied and beautiful

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Poetry for me has always been something I like on the page and I’d cringe at the thought of attending a reading. Similar to my preference for books over their subsequent movies, I didn’t want a voice or image imposed. I wanted my interpretation to stand alone.

Poetry, when bad, is well…utterly dire. And having a voice to it is excruciating. But great poetry performed with the passion of the writer can move me to tears. Who knew! This was one such performance.

International Woman’s day and my own personal dance party.

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onebillionrising

Tonight I got a message from a friend suggesting I join her dancing tomorrow evening. I thought: groovy, Friday night out sounds fun; let’s leave the husbands at home.

Then she said you need to practice your steps as we’ve missed the rehearsal. Now I am thinking…ok Theresa, time to ease up on the Chardonnay.

Her next message is a YouTube link: Break the Chain dance tutorial video.

Turns out that in honor of International Woman’s Day, someone here in Bangkok has organized a One Billion Rising flash mob.

I watched the video tutorial a first time and thought: my goodness how many parts are there?! (truthfully, goodness is not the word that came to mind). I remembered seeing one of these viral videos and being really moved by it. I’ve also always secretly longed to be part of some meaningful flash mob though in reality I would have like the MC hammer with glimmer gold poop your pants bottoms like one that took place a number of years ago. This will have to do.

So instead of working on guest blog posts I owe, I’ve spent the evening in my knickers prancing around my bedroom, trying to master pivots and grateful that my Don Juan was out for a business dinner.

It’s sad that I struggled with a very simple step but not nearly as sad as the 35 minutes I spent on the exceedingly simple part one, trying to figure out if I was watching the dance in a mirror image, which leg/arm should I flail next. Why is this sad? Because when I finally made it to part 2, I realized they had dumbed it down saying ‘right’ for viewers when they were moving their left limbs.

Whatever. I am going to rock this flash mob tomorrow night. Dance on sisters!