Wednesday, October 01, 2003

Last night, I indulged in a fabulous Taiwan treat. Chicken testicle soup and a can of asparagus juice? No, even better! Paying somebody to wash my hair. Maybe this is done at home, too, but it would seem ridiculously luxurious to me. In Taipei, you can go to any hole-in-the-wall salon ("hole in the wall" being the most popular local design theme) for a wash and a head massage. For the equivalent of six Canadian dollars, I had the best hair-washing experience of my life, and it lasted nearly half an hour. First of all, I sat in the chair the whole time. This is the way it should be done. The hairdresser had a squeeze-bottle of shampoo; she lathered me up and proceeded to massage my scalp and neck and manhandle my head for twenty minutes. There was none of the usual head-back-in-the-sink, painful-neck business. Sitting upright. It's the only way. Of course, she rinsed me in the sink, but -- and I, a former student of the follicular arts, was astounded by the brilliance of this -- she had a plastic thing in the sink on which I could rest my head! Salon sinks are usually so uncomfortable because the weight of your head puts so much strain on your neck, which is cradled in its hard sink-crotch. Nor did she skimp on the rinse. It was a good five minutes. Fingernails were involved, but in a good way. My head was then wrapped in two towels, and I was led back to the chair. And as if I didn't already want to marry her, the hairdresser massaged my neck and squeezed my head all over to coax the water out of my hair. She wanted to blow-dry it, too, but I'm not a blow-dry kind of gal. For this experience, she charged six Canadian dollars and got a two-dollar tip. And she'll be seeing me again. I think I can justify a monthly wash, don't you?

I loved Barbies when I was a kid. I spent hours and hours dressing and undressing my Barbies, adding makeup to their plastic faces with felt pens, piercing their ears with straight pins, and so on. But I tell you, if I ever have a kid who wants to play with dolls, I'm not getting him or her a Barbie. I'm getting a nice, modest, flat-chested Razanne!

While Barbie has a curvaceous figure, Razanne was designed with the body of a preteen. The doll comes in three types: fair-skinned blonde, olive-skinned with black hair, or black skin and black hair.
Her aspirations are those of a modern Muslim woman. On the drawing board for future dolls are Dr Razanne and possibly even astronaut Razanne. There's also Muslim Girl Scout Razanne, complete with a cassette recording of the Muslim Scout's oath.

Modest Muslim doll has pious appeal
I'm just a little concerned that Razanne may not get along well with Feral Cheryl.

Knitting: I just have the lace panel sock on the go these days, but I'm itching to start a sweater, so to speak.

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