fuck that nigga that you love so bad. I know you still think about the times we had
sometimes it all comes so fucking clear. Like seriously. There has been alot of change in the last little bit. I quit the school. The bitch never even said a word to me. Except I got my ROE and she sent a little sticky note that was like good luck and shit. I wanted to send one back and be like 'fuck you reptile skin' but I decided that was childish and in poor taste.
My new job is okay. The people are decent I guess. I feel like everyone is like a total hippie, but reformed. And they are all in school, or doing something else. Like I remember the days when you had to live, eat, shit, and breathe hair. But I guess not anymore. I have had a really good response to my work at the shop. Except for this one bitch, we will call her Marissa. Marissa rolls in one dark stormy evening, wearing wide linen pants, one of those hippie hoodies made out of hemp, covered by a MEC anorak. She hasn't had her hair done in three years, she hasn't worked in months, but is somehow travelling all over California, as well as through the rest of the west coast. She used to work in solar energy, and she got into a bad relationship with a polyamorous woman. She's a reformed hippie, with too much time, money, and bad taste to go around.
She just picked my ass. I had to cut her hair three times. So I went out of my way to avoid doing this womans hair. It wasn't my best moment. I even took Friday off cause I knew she was gonna come by and bug me. She even tired to book on Saturday and I got my receptionist to give her to someone else. Fuck. Like I hated her. It took me over 2 hours to do her hair cut, and it was beautiful let me tell you. And she asked to get it fixed. First off I have had to redo colour, but I have never had anyone complain about a haircut from me. My cuts are fucking solid, I have been told on more than one occasion, that I have given someone the best haircut of their life.
Anyways, I am not going to deal with picky bitches like that, stay away from me! I want nothing to do with you. I am a good hairdresser. Being back in the world of product sales and clientele retention, I realize that I am a changed person. I am different from the last time I was behind the chair. I am more aware of what the world is really like. I need a future. I need something besides being a hairdresser my whole life. I wish I could stay. But my industry makes it really difficult to be successful unless you work hard from a young age and go continuously. Unfortunately I got off the train right when it was getting ready to leave the station. I made that choice. If this doesn't work I will go to Toronto, or Montreal. Or maybe even Calgary. A Vancouver trained hairdresser. I feel like it might be time to leave.
I spoke to Heartbreaker Tubbs, we made a date to talk. I know I am gonna lose my shit. I always do. One time I would like to leave without looking like a total fucking nutbag. But I don't think there is change on the horizon. I want him to realize that he loves me. That I may be chubby, and I may be a little feminine, but I am not covered in pimples, and I don't think maroon is an appropriate paint colour to be mixed with sage green accents - like seriously is this like 1992? I swear my mom decorated our 'reck' room, you know that shit is from 1992, cause when was the last time you got a tour of someone's house they showed your their 'reck' room, the answer is 1992, seriously he spent three months picking colour's that were just right. Uh, wtf?
Going back to what I was actually talking about, I even interrupt myself. Sheesh, I am turning more into my mother everyday. I need something more, I need to give back. I am looking into course for working with people with special needs. I think that would be some rewarding work. I have always wanted to work with people with special needs, I would love to stand up for them. I never understood why people treat them so differently. It drives me insane, it happened at the school all the time. We had a high number of clients that were from group homes for young adults with disabilities. Alot of the stylists, clients, and even some of my students were guilty of treating them differently. I know I joke around alot, but it's never cool to take away someones basic dignity to be spoken to with some respect.
So I am looking into that.
Wish me luck.
Oh yeah can we talk about Juicy, being a bitch at my birthday, and kinda ruining it. Oh yeah she totally did. She was too busy getting baked with her loser unemployed boyfriend, who she is just starting to realize may have no ambitions if life - huzzah! like the sun will come out tomorrow. LIKE ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? LIKE IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING. So she finally rolls up hours later with a stank attitude, and she didn't even offer to pay for my sushi lunch - skank. I am gonna be a total cunt when her birthday rolls around. Just you fucking wait.
Still no mans. Jason Murray, the fat ugly guy I slept with cause he paid for dinner, and drinks, hey I believe that no good deed go un-rewarded. He had hair everywear, and like it was so intense. It made his dick look like a piece of a broom end with a rotten smooshed mushroom on top. He tried to rub his chest into my face. It was crazy, and we were supposed to get baked before, but he totally was like 'oh yeah don't know where my rollies are' umm how about you take a fucking look you dipshit? that would have made it easier to blow my load, but I had to really work hard at it, and I never work hard at anything. He was sooo sweaty, it was like a fucking crocodile mile on that bed. He is obviously a total coke head, an overweight cokehead, which I don't really understand, how are you a cokehead and fat? it just doesn't make sense. Anyways. And he has all these obnoxious friends, and like he wears trucker hats, with shirts with slogans, and knock off Chuck Taylers, with the occasional Hawaiian print button up. Whatever.
no More shit talking tonight.
My new job is okay. The people are decent I guess. I feel like everyone is like a total hippie, but reformed. And they are all in school, or doing something else. Like I remember the days when you had to live, eat, shit, and breathe hair. But I guess not anymore. I have had a really good response to my work at the shop. Except for this one bitch, we will call her Marissa. Marissa rolls in one dark stormy evening, wearing wide linen pants, one of those hippie hoodies made out of hemp, covered by a MEC anorak. She hasn't had her hair done in three years, she hasn't worked in months, but is somehow travelling all over California, as well as through the rest of the west coast. She used to work in solar energy, and she got into a bad relationship with a polyamorous woman. She's a reformed hippie, with too much time, money, and bad taste to go around.
She just picked my ass. I had to cut her hair three times. So I went out of my way to avoid doing this womans hair. It wasn't my best moment. I even took Friday off cause I knew she was gonna come by and bug me. She even tired to book on Saturday and I got my receptionist to give her to someone else. Fuck. Like I hated her. It took me over 2 hours to do her hair cut, and it was beautiful let me tell you. And she asked to get it fixed. First off I have had to redo colour, but I have never had anyone complain about a haircut from me. My cuts are fucking solid, I have been told on more than one occasion, that I have given someone the best haircut of their life.
Anyways, I am not going to deal with picky bitches like that, stay away from me! I want nothing to do with you. I am a good hairdresser. Being back in the world of product sales and clientele retention, I realize that I am a changed person. I am different from the last time I was behind the chair. I am more aware of what the world is really like. I need a future. I need something besides being a hairdresser my whole life. I wish I could stay. But my industry makes it really difficult to be successful unless you work hard from a young age and go continuously. Unfortunately I got off the train right when it was getting ready to leave the station. I made that choice. If this doesn't work I will go to Toronto, or Montreal. Or maybe even Calgary. A Vancouver trained hairdresser. I feel like it might be time to leave.
I spoke to Heartbreaker Tubbs, we made a date to talk. I know I am gonna lose my shit. I always do. One time I would like to leave without looking like a total fucking nutbag. But I don't think there is change on the horizon. I want him to realize that he loves me. That I may be chubby, and I may be a little feminine, but I am not covered in pimples, and I don't think maroon is an appropriate paint colour to be mixed with sage green accents - like seriously is this like 1992? I swear my mom decorated our 'reck' room, you know that shit is from 1992, cause when was the last time you got a tour of someone's house they showed your their 'reck' room, the answer is 1992, seriously he spent three months picking colour's that were just right. Uh, wtf?
Going back to what I was actually talking about, I even interrupt myself. Sheesh, I am turning more into my mother everyday. I need something more, I need to give back. I am looking into course for working with people with special needs. I think that would be some rewarding work. I have always wanted to work with people with special needs, I would love to stand up for them. I never understood why people treat them so differently. It drives me insane, it happened at the school all the time. We had a high number of clients that were from group homes for young adults with disabilities. Alot of the stylists, clients, and even some of my students were guilty of treating them differently. I know I joke around alot, but it's never cool to take away someones basic dignity to be spoken to with some respect.
So I am looking into that.
Wish me luck.
Oh yeah can we talk about Juicy, being a bitch at my birthday, and kinda ruining it. Oh yeah she totally did. She was too busy getting baked with her loser unemployed boyfriend, who she is just starting to realize may have no ambitions if life - huzzah! like the sun will come out tomorrow. LIKE ARE FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? LIKE IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING. So she finally rolls up hours later with a stank attitude, and she didn't even offer to pay for my sushi lunch - skank. I am gonna be a total cunt when her birthday rolls around. Just you fucking wait.
Still no mans. Jason Murray, the fat ugly guy I slept with cause he paid for dinner, and drinks, hey I believe that no good deed go un-rewarded. He had hair everywear, and like it was so intense. It made his dick look like a piece of a broom end with a rotten smooshed mushroom on top. He tried to rub his chest into my face. It was crazy, and we were supposed to get baked before, but he totally was like 'oh yeah don't know where my rollies are' umm how about you take a fucking look you dipshit? that would have made it easier to blow my load, but I had to really work hard at it, and I never work hard at anything. He was sooo sweaty, it was like a fucking crocodile mile on that bed. He is obviously a total coke head, an overweight cokehead, which I don't really understand, how are you a cokehead and fat? it just doesn't make sense. Anyways. And he has all these obnoxious friends, and like he wears trucker hats, with shirts with slogans, and knock off Chuck Taylers, with the occasional Hawaiian print button up. Whatever.
no More shit talking tonight.