Saturday, July 16, 2005 How hot is hot?
So hot that the new scar on my face itches and hurts all day long. So hot that any garment containing an elastic begins to saw through my skin. So hot. I sat in the air-conditioned beauty parlor all day.
All those people! I hadn't worked an entire Saturday in months until today, and I kept making amusing mistakes which stemmed from the joyful irresponsibilty of last night. Did you want to tip your stylist four dollars? Too bad! I rang it for FOURTY! Ah ha ha.
Then in the afternoon, it rained, and things slowed down a little bit. The guy who admits he is no Brad Pitt came in, and he brought his mother, who walked around staring intently at everything and asking people about the kinds of scissors they were using. It turns out that she herself is a hairdresser in her country, and this is her first time in the US. She does eyebrow threading, too, and people started talking about that, and somehow from there the conversation turned to other obscure or semi-obscure beauty processes, and then lurid true tales of tattooed-on makeup gone wrong. I was in heaven.
I had to work today wearing nail polish I'd applied while intoxicated last night. I was embarrassed, but resigned. I am my own little cross to bear.
I thought to write that because I just looked down and saw my nails again. I have to stop typing at this point, because I have to go and take that nail polish off right now. posted by Frenzy Lohan | 7/16/2005 08:44:00 PM
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