i love paris in the springtime

another quiet sunday in the marais. after spending what seems like the entire weekend gossiping about our classmates, teaching our brazilian and spanish friends to make pancakes (complete with canadian maple syrup) and playing lord of the rings risk with nick and special guest stars ruth and pedro, i am not yet thoroughly geeked out. now i search for game strategies, ways to "fuck nick" (to quote my lotrr mentor/partner in evil doings ruth) as a tool for procrastination (i should be learning lines, you see). perhaps there are better ways to spend a rainy afternoon but i for one can think of none.

so, perhaps you can help me get some work done on this laziest of sundays, dear reader. one week into my writing and directing unit, i still search for a fantastic story to tell my class. one that will prompt listeners to dream and create a two hour script around. do you have something light, beautiful, wonderful, magical, original to share and inspire?

sunday in the park with ed



this was my last week of my three week vacation. fittingly, it was spent being a tourist again. nick and i went to the eiffel tower where, believe it or not, nick had yet to visit.



sipping expensive champagne straight from the bottle with a view of the sun setting over the city, we quietly observed all of the student tours waiting in line for the elevator to the top while relishing in being a perfect balance between being decadent and trashy.



today being the last day of the break, was spent sun worshipping at an informal picnic with becky, ed, aron and nick at sacre coeur.



this was becky's idea. so, with beer and potluck dishes in tow, we made the trek up the steps and picked a perfect spot with a hot, hazy view of the city and planted ourselves for a number of hours before heading back, pink skinned and sunstroked, to the moldy apartment (which now also smells like cheese for some reason or other) for late afternoon mojitos. (note - don't make mojitos with mineral water as they will be salty rather than sweet).



all in all, this was a brilliant end to a great, low key vacation. though perhaps not as brilliant as the neon yellow short suit ed purchased at Barbes for 8 euros earlier this weekend.



now i sit in anticipation for not only the potatoes nick is cooking for dinner (which will be eaten while we finish watching the last three episodes of season one of Deadwood - also much anticipated) but also for the next and final ten weeks at ecole philippe gaulier and what i can bring to them.

the year (and a bit) in hair... a retrospective

fresh new year - january 2006


party pretty - april 2006


carefree in the country - may 2006


summer updo - june 2006


straightened in seattle - september 2006


parisian schoolgirl (aka bob on a budget) - october 2006


seeing red - november 2006


pixie perfect - april 2007


have a fave? our beauty editors are dying to know!

change your shoes, change your life!




it is currently vacances here in France - a time when the majority of the population takes 2-3 weeks off of work or school in favour of some much needed down time. this just happens to coincide with the time when the first major influx of tourists invade the city of Paris. let me tell you one thing about tourists - they are lovely but you can spot them a mile away. especially anglophone tourists. and especially, especially if you have had the experience of being one and then not one.

there are two kinds of tourists - the ones who try to disguise themselves as locals and the ones who don't try to disguise themselves at all. i have a special respect for those who don't disguise themselves - i like to imagine that they have chosen comfort over style, rationalizing that they will be spending the majority of their parisian vacation in the touristy areas with other touristy types or at least those accustomed to touristy types. trodding around in 26 degree heat as we have these past few weeks, i can completely understand their choice.

i also have a special affection for those who make such a great effort to disguise themselves - in particular those who have chosen a comfortable, sensible shoe in the colour black (a.k.a. runners or walking shoes) thinking they could pass it off as something stylish. they seem to imagine that no one will know that they're not european (even though their kids are dressed head to toe in nike or lululemon). however, i know. how do i know? because i was one of those people when i first traveled to Paris in september. within one week i rid myself of the shoes i'd brought when i realized how ridiculous they looked and that i wasn't going to fool anyone with those things on my feet no matter what i wore on my body. a pair of Clarks! slip ons no less! like, neoprene runner types with no laces. i would never be caught dead in them at home but somehow i fooled myself into thinking they would be passable in the fashion mecca that is paris. as if i'd just picked them up at a jaunty little boutique somewhere in Montmartre. having spent a bit of time here i now know that no one (at least no woman) wears comfortable shoes in this city (except perhaps birkenstocks when it's really hot).

as much as i'd like to be one of those people who chooses comfort over style, i just can't be. particularly when it comes to footwear. this is not to say that i in any way try to consider myself a local, i like to think that i've just adopted a craftier disguise.

Paper faces on parade...

A couple of weeks ago I made some masks for school. Although I was in no way successful with wearing them, some other people found great pleasure in them. (I did have success with a mask someone else made).

So here for you is my first attempt at mask making. Not bad for a beginner I'd say.

What I learned in school today...

My name is Martin Boulanger. I am 14 years old. I am in grade 9 at Dennis O'Connor Catholic High School.


Below is a picture of me with my mum, Shirley. She is from Scunthorpe which is in England. She runs the local "chippy" which is a chip truck. I love chips. And I love my mum.



This is my hero and role model Father Alfonso Guererro. He is also my best friend since my dog Shadow was put down two weeks ago. Together we get up to all kinds of crazy adventures.



These are some other people from my town including the rich man and the one black person (who is a great dancer by the way).





My dad was out of town when these pictures were taken. I will endeavour to put one up when I get one of him.

I love Fleetwood Mac and broadway musicals but am in no way gay.

Thank you for visiting.

we live out where the street ends...

where i live

to market, to market...

today has been one of those extremely rare days where, after six weeks of activity, i have the luxury to sit alone in the moldy apartment contemplating the possibiility of staying inside and speaking to no one all day. i spent yesterday at the marché alligré purchasing vegetables for the week. sipping coffee on the corner, i watched all of the vendors pack up their goods for the day while my friends pestered them for free mangos. today i have convinced myself that it is not sunshine i see in the courtyard - after all of this morning's rain it can only be a tease and i am sure that the minute i step outside it will pour on me.
we begin a new unit tomorrow - mask played. after the flopping frustration of bouffon and the universal dip in motivation and energy that occurred during melodrama, i am happy to savour these next few hours of inactivity before another few weeks of extreme innovation and resiliance beckon me.
i leave you now with a photo of my friend Rew who drank all the beer in paris on friday but still mustered enough energy to stop by for homemade pizza and dvd's last night.

you'll go to paris on your own...



Paris. Finally a couple of photos for the curious. Months late but better than never I suppose...