TRAVEL DIARY

A weblog regularly updated by Jodi Rose.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

12:18 AM
Posted by jodi rose

another astonishing hairdressing experience.. from helsinki to berlin, chiang mai to sturovo, I love a completely sign language and picture pointing haircut. you never quite know what you will get.
todays version is very slightly inclined towards mushroom head, but just managed to avoid it through timely miming intervention; a bit longer over the ears, please... and has entirely rid me of the lingering bleached split ends and the last few months accumulated follicle memories. Having an almost overwhelming urge to dye it bright red. Yasmin suggested it was a good time for a makeover, and I am convinced that hair must hold some kind of cellular trauma, it feels so liberating to be shorn.

Enough of such frivolities though, people here keep reminding me of how privileged I am, to be lucky enough to have been born into an english speaking country. Made for life, it seems. Not that I think I would make a great english teacher, but if the current lassitude towards re-engaging with my art career continues, it may be one of the only viable options. At least I could live in berlin... this weeks folly. Forget Glasgow, everything is too tenuous and the UK so expensive, plus I have been infected with all that nasty media commentary about appearance and weight and skin tone bringing on angsty teen body image flashbacks, although positive contrast with number of normal size women out and about in funky, sassy, sexy outfits and no apologies. Quite scary how quickly it overcomes the feminist scruples and woman of the world ideology. Best not to be in an english speaking country, I feel, then youre somewhat immune to all the white noise of media programming. Reading :the battersea park rd to enlightenment: which is far more sincere than I expected, sassy and cute but filled with personal epiphanies - makes me want to run off and do a tai chi retreat in the french hillside, or join a convent. For a weekend at least. The apple crumble sounded truly divine, and I could convert for a good dessert!

Swimming almost every day, had a long sunny afternoon in the backyard-farm with Gyuri and his international hungarian gulas patry. A fews Scots, a Finn, a German, some English lasses, scattered Hungarians and my good Australian self. Much larking around, drinking wine and soda, then beer which came in 2L plastic bottles from the nearest pub, and eventually retired to the Green Pub to watch the world cup final. Must say I was disappointed, all those injuries to start with, and then endless penalty kicks - but happy for the Italians to win. Couldnt remember which team was which for most of the game, but liked the ones in blue. So much for imbibing local colour, everyone seems to have given up on the cup and we almost had the place to ourselves. A private lounge with excellent service and a dangerously small tab.

Still have the idea in the back of my mind that I am going to get around to some work in the near future. Its the only thing stopping me going crazy with guilt at my decadent lifestyle, cafe hopping with a trashy novel for most of the day after the hour in the pool.
Trying to get some planning done for the future, some thoughts of settling somewhere for at least a year are getting more insistent, as is the desire to get this bridge symphony done for once and all, and write the accompanying novel-memoir book thing.
Ah well, just keep filling those pages, it comes when it comes. Someone reacted with horror at my intention of editing some coherence into the writing; now why would you go and do a crazy thing like that?
Hmmmm why indeed. Chaos, eros and bacchanalia all the way. Although it does get a little exhausting maintaining such a lush reputation, but who is to say what is fact and what fiction? Never let the truth get in the way, as they say, of a good story.