So, it’s the Scotiabank Contact Photography Festival and I’m thumbing through their festival guide, like you do, when I came across something that caught my eye. Well, I couldn’t miss it actually because it was a picture of a bald man and the glare from his forehead was a little blinding. Nice Head…The Bald Man Project was the name of the show and Rob Allen was the photographer. That’s all I needed to know. Actually, they had me at Nice Head, but I digress. Bald men are sexy! Jason Statham and most of the UFC are prime examples of that so off I toddled to The Bald Man Project. I toddled because as you know, I’m working out with G-Force Training and a good swift toddle burns more calories and uses more muscle than just your average walk. I’m all about the toddle, people! So I finally get to the exhibit and nothing. Well, not nothing. There were a bunch of people milling around like they were at an art showing; drinks in hand, bored stares, but no photos. No art of any kind was on any of the walls…not even a brightly coloured memo. It was odd. There was no one of any authourity, no Scotiabank Contact signs anywhere. It was like there was an art show going on without the art. Then I noticed something. Everyone milling around had hair! Even the women! Thick, gorgeous, bouncin’ AND behavin’ locks. Maybe the Bald Man’s Project wasn’t for bald men! Maybe it was for people with a full head of hair so they could better appreciate what they have and pity those that are obviously being punished by The Lord. And then maybe they saw me, a big ol’ bald girl, toddlin’ their way and they panicked. They took down all the pictures so as not offend me, the follically challenged, and then went out of their way not to notice me. I’m a big girl people. I’m kinda difficult not to notice! All I could do was put my hat back on and head (pardon the pun) for the door. But I swear, just before my hat was back on my head, I heard a camera go click.