For Lyla

I do believe that you, Lyla, are my only reader. Not that I blame anyone but myself for disregarding poor little Biased and Myopic--unless you count Facebook, which I really do blame. But, in any case, I have vowed to share the mundane events of my life and that is exactly what I intend to do! First, and foremost, as I am sure you, my one and only reader, would like to know, my application to graduate has been received and approved by my college. Which means that I will graduate in October, apparently despite my owing some three dollars on my printing account. I have already cleaned out my office, which was a sad and tedious job. Who knew I had so many postcards on the wall? I cannot conceive of anyone else dwelling in that cupboard I called an office. I have also returned my beloved copy of Villette to the library. That was a very sad moment. I had that book for three years and was loath to part with it. I even considered stealing it! But then I could not bring myself to deny others the opportunity of having that particular copy of Villette, which to me was filled with so much meaning. So I settled on writing my initials and the year on the last page of the book as near to the binding as I could so that I would somehow maintain a connection with that book. I guess it's strange to have become so attached to a particular edition of Villette, but it's just part of who I am.

But now, on to less nostalgic topics! I got my hair cut and absolutely no one has noticed. Well, Lindell noticed, but besides him no one has mentioned it once. It doesn't bother me, it's just rather curious. It could be that my new hair-do is so nondescript that there's nothing much to say about it...or it looks so bad that no one dares to mention it. Personally, I think it is merely nondescript. Or perhaps it's because when I've mentioned my haircut to friends it has been in conjunction with a fascinatingly mundane story of racism, so that the requisite "your hair looks nice" gets lost in the tale and afterwards seems like a rather trite comment? But now I've piqued your interest (or at least I meant to, so if it isn't piqued just pretend it is and keep reading) and must tell you the Tale of The Non-Racist, Racist Hairdresser.

I'm still unsure of how this topic was broached, but it happened somewhere between the scalp massage and the hydrolic-chair. The topic of racism in Canada being raised, my hairdresser began to express her own tolerant views and disgust with racist beliefs. I commented that racism is a very difficult question because most people do not self-identify as racist or prejudiced against people of other cultures or races. I also mentioned that most of the people whom I have heard tell racist "jokes" would never, under any circumstance, admit to having even remotely intolerant beliefs, and yet they do tell jokes. "Oh yes," my hair dresser agreed, "I like to talk with a Chinese accent sometimes, but not because I don't like Chinese people, but because they talk funny."

Feeling that my point had been COMPLETELY misconstrued, I decided to attempt to drop the subject, but the non-racist, racist hairdresser had one more point she wanted to make. She told me that her brother was "half black" and was married to a "white" girl, which meant that their son had a lovely skin color--this was her non-racist opinion--, but she went on to describe her nephew as "looking Iraqi"--which I would call a racist comment. Feeling rather uncomfortable at this point, I changed the conversation to a discussion of reality TV. Bad idea. Apparently, she was a big fan of The Biggest Loser. After talking about which contestants could be good looking (after losing significant weight, of course) she went on to tell me her own dieting strategy which consisted primarily of the appropriate motivation. She said that when she feels the urge to eat potato chips she sticks a note on the cupboard that reads: "You don't need it, Fatty." Which is a whole other kind or prejudice.

I completely realize that hairdressers are in an industry that relies on standardizing beauty, which tends to mess with their own perceptions. But even so, it was rather shocking.

So, I hope you've enjoyed this post, Lyla, and I promise to reinvigorate good old Biased and Myopic. Afterall, I find Facebook to be a little boring. After thinking up a new status message for the day, there is very little to actually do.