This is not the trend.

I think more and more men are becoming more and more interested in their appearance. Sadly though, this trend is very slow (too slowly) to catch on, but then I think, is this even the trend? No I don't think so. Everyone is saying (and by everyone, I mean the men who stand on the street in the same pair of oversized denim they wore three other times this week and the t-shirt that they either got for free in some sort of promotional stunt or the cliché "Abercrombie", "Hollister", of for goodness sakes the "Billabong" shirt, and think they are "cool") that there is trend of metro-sexuality that is sweeping the nation and destroying what men stand for--which is what exactly--mustard stained sweats? Why does some one who cares about what they look like have to be put into a category, or a whole another form of sexuality, actually. We are still men, and a lot of us like the same types of things you other guys like. Have we not learned yet that segregating types of people into categories always turns out bad? Look what we did after putting black people into a group, jews in to a group, gays, communists etc. It only makes it easier for other people to judge and hate. Anyway back to the trend comment, I do not think "metro-sexuality" (for lack of another short word) is the trend, I think men not caring about what they look like when they leave the house is the trend, in fact I know this is the trend, it started in 1950 and sadly became popular in 1970 and has become increasingly popular ever since. It kind of follows the time-line of the sexual-revolution and womans liberty. If we look back in history men were always equally, if not more so, wearing elaborate costumes and immaculate garments. Going back to ancient Egypt, the men wore wigs to cover up there naturally disheveled hair and often wore more eye make-up then many woman today. During the french revolution we see images of men in velvet petty-coats covered in lace, leotards with ballet-like slippers and elaborately coiffed hairstyles powered white. Even in the early 1900's men were almost always seen in suits and fedora hats--no matter how poor they wer--and were clean shaven and well groomed all the time. So why did we forget about all of this and suddenly decide that it was actually manly to be un-groomed, un-cultured and un-interested in self-image? It makes no sense to me, and what makes it worse is that many woman have also been convinced of this too and these "cave-like" men are actually attractive to them, only perpetuating the problem. Luckily though are still some woman out there who understand the importance and appeal of a man who looks great, all the time. 

I did it for her.

So I am living with a host family right now and this weekend it is only me and the woman, as all the other students are gone on a trip. I was asleep and I came out for dinner and what I saw on my plate scared me, a combination of all things I hate. First off I have not eaten a single potato chip in 7 1/5 and a half years and the majority of my plate was covered in Ketchup chips (a kind, that even when I did eat chips, I hated). Secondly I think that Ham and Cheese is one of the worst combinations of food possible, I hate deli meat and it is even worse when people try to cook it, I also have not had Cheese-whiz for over 12 years, as I think this is one of the most vulgar substances on this planet, followed only by vomit itself. So you will never guess what I find laying atop this mound of chips...a croissant with fried deli ham covered in melting cheese-whiz. Oh yah I almost forgot the whole thing was generously covered in a thick layer of mayonnaise, which ties with cheese-whiz for the worst thing on Earth. What was I too, my host mother was horribly ill and had still taken the time to make this dinner for me, as I was the only one at the table with her, slipping the abhorrent dinner into my pocket, (like in the hot dog story), was not possible so I had to slowly, bit my bit eat the thing, trying to bite off pieces so small my taste buds would not even have a chance to taste the "food". 

There is me and then there is them.

I just realized again how different I am than most males. Here I am sitting in a bar dressed in a sea foam green cardigan and skinny jeans sipping my water and watching Ugly Betty online while there is a crowd of guys in oversized jeans and t-shirts gulping their beers and shouting out at the hockey game on TV. Oh dear. Oh well. I love you Betty Suarez. 

This is Me.

 Me is different from everyone else, and I like that about him, but it can cause him trouble from time to time. A lot of people don't understand Me, but that is his own fault sometimes, I want Me to let people see him, Me and I get along quite well. Me is assertive in his own right. Me has his own definition of assertiveness, of maturity, of life, of art. I think Me just prefers to please others and make sure no one else feels bad, unhappy or unaware, over making sure the world knows that Me actually does know what is going know or what is being talked about. Me just doesn't like to show that, allowing others to be shown as "right" or "smart" is more important to Me than making sure everyone is aware of Me's abilities and this sometimes causes people to think Me is too passive, indecisive or ignorant (in the actual sense of the word). Me is not. I want you to see Me for who he is, I know it might be hard, but keep trying. Me will appreciate it. Me intentionally does not say "I know...I know" when his friends tell him that he already knows, Me does not say "yah I heard the one before" when he has heard the one before and Me feels uncomfortable telling someone they are mistaken. Sometime I tell Me that he needs to change this, stand up for himself and say what it is he wants, but then when I really think about it, I actually like Me just the way he is, because he actually does speak up when it is truly important and I see that he likes to make others feel good, even if it makes himself look less. Me and me will keep talking and I am sure we can come up with something. 

La Bouche

The Summer is magic, is magic, oh oh oh.

The Summer is magic.

You have to imagine, imagine oh oh oh.

The Summer is magic. 

Graceful Movements

I just took part in a 90 minute Ballet-Jazz workshop. It was just a last minute "thing-to-do" and it turned out to be a lot of fun. I have seen a few ballet's in my life but never actually done it. I was not good at it, but seeing some of the more advanced people in the class dance across the floor was amazing, it was so beautiful and graceful. I want to see more of it. It seems so prissy and little girl-like to a lot of people but it is actually very difficult and take immense amount of strength. A very enjoyable experience. 

Idea

Why don't more people use the wonder of second hand stores, there are so many treasures in each of them, you just need to know how to look. It is true that at first sight, 90% of the the clothes are ugly or ill-fitting, but with the right eye you should be able to see how some simple altetrations can quickly, easily and cheaply change drap into fab. Try it.

ATTENTION !!!

Patterns are in this season, but be careful how you were them. Match with solid navy or white for best results. Avoid shapeless garments, or you will look like you are wearing a tablecloth. Over. 

I spoke to soon...yet again.

I like this place, I just would have to get to use to living here, a lot of the people, in fact most of the people are really great. As usual, it is the negative minority that gives a place a bad name.  But lucky for them, and lucky for me, I do not have to associate with those people. 

I have some good friends who love me.

Did I really say that? It was joke.

My whole life is a constant fashion show.

Every minute is a chance for me to pose. 

I want the spotlight to be on me today. 

I am pretty sure my middle name is Vogue. 

I do not just want to make works of art, I want to be a work of art. 

Every rhythmic noise I hear makes me want to dance.

I secretly hope I am a werewolf in my next life.

I wish my mother was Cher, but only during the time when she was mermaid. 

Boring people are just so...boring.

You know you are fat when you are 3-D.

Where am I?

This is a strnge little town, to small, to sheltered and to conservative for my liking. I am a artist and an actor and it shows.. The people of this place have never seen anyone like me. A boy in the skinniest of jeans, with silk scarves around his neck. Wollen walking shorts and sunglesses of all shapes and colours on his face. Back home I am praised for this. The people here stare as though I am a circus wonder. I don'd mind I guess, but do they not have anything else to do? At least they do not how to talk to me, becasue the ones who do, love me.

Chien-Chaud

I have a hilarious (high-larious) story. Okay, so right now I am living with a host family in a place thet does not speak English. The title of this post may or not imply that the language in this region is French. Tonight for diner, my host-mother served hot dogs, and me being a people pleaser and never wanting to offend a person, I graciously accepted my plate of two hot dogs with a smile on the outside, and a huge frown on the inside. I think hot dogs are the worst food on this planet. Dégoutante, as the people here say. So as we all sat around the table eating our chien-chauds, I had a watchful and somewhat shifty eye on all the other guest in the room, so I could seize the exact moment when everyone's eye's were diverted and I could freely and secretly loosen the grip on my bun just enough that the hot dog would slip out of it and onto my lap, where I was then free to wedge the stick of who-knows-what in to my pocket for disposal after the dinner had finished. I am now at the the school, where I brought the hot dogs so the evidence of my crime would be never be found.

I am hungry.
If only 2 buns were enough to fill a boys stomach.

For real, you put that out?

This is to all Vogue readers, the ultmate in fashion, style and glamourous living. It may be a little late to stop you from buying the May issue of the American Vogue, but if you haven`t, you may want to hold off until you have actually read it. With advertisments for prducts like Pantene and Loreal, I wonder where the Haute Couture we expect has gone. I have had the chance to read the Britisah issue of Vogue for May as well, and let me just say, as usual the Euopeans wins again in the Fashion Race. It is full of interesting articles and of course beutiful high fashion photographs! Very well done England, unfortunatley this edition is harder to come by in Canada (I bought mine in Toronto), and it is more than double the price, but as usual, Europen magazines like Vogue, Lush or others, are well worth the effort getting them.

Salut.

I am here, it took a while and you could call it a fiasco, but I think of it as an adventure. I undersdtand more than that I did last time, and I can speak as I please, which is nice. I love it, but miss my other two lives. Oh well, now I have three.

A race with the clock

As I sit here on a public computer, with the timer on my 60 minute limit now at 4 minutes, I comtemplate about time and the contraints we allow it to put on us. Why can I not just do what I want when I want. Instead I have a time whern it has to be done by or whren Ican start it. I want my life to flow and unfold naturally and not have to worry about how old one shouyld be when something significant is done or at what time of day I am allowed to do things and not do things. I have 2 minutes left and I have not time to proofred this so this is sorry in advance. I hate it. Who cares how long or short I take to do domething, as long as it gets done, unless of course it inconveinences someone else, but that would only happen if they were on time constraints asd well. 30 seconds left, I must click publish now. Good bye.