Tuesday, March 29, 2005 Late-breaking hair news
Work was slow again today, so now my highlights have red streaks on top of them. People of Baltimore: come and get a haircut, or within a few weeks I will end up with a bright green fade with dirty words shaved into the sides. posted by Frenz | 3/29/2005 08:13:00 PM
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Monday, March 28, 2005 update your look for spring
It rained hard all day today, and it's Monday. So I have highlights, now. I knew this day would come.
I wonder what they do when it's slow at other workplaces, like the dentists'? posted by Frenz | 3/28/2005 06:05:00 PM
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Sunday, March 27, 2005 Have you heard the good news?
I am eating jelly beans. posted by Frenz | 3/27/2005 02:14:00 PM
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Saturday, March 26, 2005 Earl Grey, hot
This morning I was looking around the kitchen, trying to decide between coffee and tea, right? And I thought, "Get green tea, and then you'll be focused throughout the day." (I lie to myself fairly regularly in the mornings.)
Then I thought, "No, get Earl Grey. You'll be more Picard."
I don't fucking care, internet. I could buy and sell you.
This morning, my eyes look effortlessly smoky. The trick was to sleep in my makeup. I'm courting a stye in the most sultry manner possible. posted by Frenz | 3/26/2005 07:55:00 AM
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Thursday, March 24, 2005 You know what they say. You always forget.
The last time I rode a bike, I was heading to what is now my workplace for a haircut. It was the haircut before my job and I met cute, so it was the middle of last summer. There were cicadas everywhere.
I rode again tonight, because I had somewhere to be, and the person I was traveling with was biking. The reason so many months have passed between one time and the next is that I forgot how to ride a damn bicycle.
Eventually, you forget anything.
I'm lying, or exaggerating, or something, because I didn't forget-forget. I can still balance, kind of, and I guess I can blame some of my troubles on the bike itself. It's a racing bike that I bought because it was cheap and pink. My old standard mountain bike that I've had since I was eleven is mouldering in somebody's parents' basement in New Jersey, and I couldn't think of a good way to get it down here, so I figured this $20 skinny tire, curly handlebar bike would be fine. I figured I could just take the toe clips off the pedals before I broke my neck, and that I could inflate the tires when I got it home.
Anyway, there was all kinds of mess. The tires have special valves, I didn't have the right tools to get the toe clips off, and I'm lazy as hell, but I got my bike rideable for that first trip to the beauty parlor, and then I got humbled. I got so humbled that I set the bike in the basement and never returned 'til now.
Damned if I didn't die. It was great. I'm still not used to hunching over when I ride, and I did hit an orange construction barrel, and I nearly fell for dumb reasons a couple times, but I made it there and back.
Good job, Spring. posted by Frenz | 3/24/2005 12:30:00 AM
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Wednesday, March 23, 2005 The OMG report!
I just spilled tea on my new slutwear from the slutstore! Come on, Oxyclean! Get off your cloud and save my Todd! posted by Frenz | 3/23/2005 05:17:00 PM
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Tuesday, March 22, 2005 broom broom broom broom broom
Here are some stupid details of my day-to-day life that I cherish.
-FlatRat, my little mascot who lives on the parking lot outside work. He or she is hideous, and flat. FlatRat will be mine to cherish forever, apparently, because he or she seems to be mummified.
-Some butthead tried to scratch out my name after I wrote it in wet cement the other day, but he or she failed!
-The other day I was in the slutstore buying slutwear, and they played some Avril, and I was so happy. It almost made me want to buy a heavily ruched tanktop that that had rhinestones and fake giant flowers vying to straddle the plunging neckline. When, out of nowhere, God sends you a good bus that practically drops you off in the slutstore dressing room, that means that God thinks your look needs to be updated for Spring.
-Today a co-worker snuck up behind me and put products in my hair.
-InStyle magazine is so stupid that it lowers your IQ at the same rate as inhaling solvents would.
-Scientific American (This is a link to Allure. Look: I ruined that joke because y'all people are too lazy to click. I know that about you. I know the joke isn't funny now, but it's funny forever to me.) arrived at my home today. It is nothing but gems: shame+motivation+more hot tips= a reasonable perscription on how to live my life.
-Today a client with bright blue hair came in for a cut. It made the personal Sweeping Hall of Fame I maintain mentally in the same space with the List of Known Attractive Customers. You should have seen it. Blue fuzz showed up in unexpected places for the rest of the day. posted by Frenz | 3/22/2005 11:30:00 PM
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Monday, March 21, 2005 sweet
The bridge of my nose got bruised on somebody's jacket last night, and now I look like some kind of poltergeist attacked me and gave me combination skin. The bruise just looks like a blotch, some kind of face-herpe (good mooooorning, internet! Face herpes! How's your coffee?).
Somehow I accidentally turned the volume down on the alarm clock I used last night. I could've been tardy, because I did not hear it faintly humming away at all. Luckily, there was a celebrity terrier in the house, and I was saved form lateness by this heroic rescue dog. What a good girl.
Other than face herpes, it was a good weekend. My celebrity sister had to go back to wherever it is she lives, but she didn't hate it here, and she was totally a trooper when it came to eating food of uncertain origin that came from my house fridge.
On Friday night, there was a wild party, but I hear it got more interesting after I left. Saturday, my housemates and I hung out with some out of town guests, we went and saw The Ring Two. That movie was awesome. I don't want to spoil it, but it was laugh-out-loud hillarious from start to finish.
Some PC thugs in our party insisted we see it at the Senator rather than the Muvico Egyptian. God. The Senator's beautiful and comfortable, and sometimes there's a big fluffy dog running around in there, but the Muvico has huge plaster statues of Egyptian gods guarding the entrance. Also, I feel like one is ten times more likely to see a fight at Muvico. I'm only saying that because there's been a fight pretty much every time I've ever been.
I have to spackle over my face herpes now, and then I have to go and party. posted by Frenz | 3/21/2005 08:58:00 AM
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Stars: They're Just Like Us!
No they aren't. posted by Frenz | 3/21/2005 01:22:00 AM
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Friday, March 18, 2005 this woman over in Paintsville
Early, early. Too early for me, but I have to leave in a minute or two and go to a meeting at work about insurance, which it turns out I'm practically incapable of pronouncing correctly. It's in-SUR-ance, n'est-ce pas? Every time I open my mouth to say it, it comes out IN-surance whether I want it to or not.
I have no right to the southern accent that surfaces sometimes. I was raised in a barn, of course, but although it was located beneath the Mason-Dixon line, it was not a southern barn, per se.
There were only a handful of people in my world growing up. One was from Virginia, one was from Brooklyn, NY (must've been a hipster), and one was a fellow child. Every other role was a walk-on for years and years. With no TV (TEE-vee), I can only surmise that the inappropriate emphasis and drawl comes from every grocery clerk and man on the street I encountered for fifteen minutes in my early years.
One day, I will make a hipster country album like Loretta Lynn did recently, and I will tell this story over a swishy beat and really fast. posted by Frenz | 3/18/2005 07:54:00 AM
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Thursday, March 17, 2005 The Baltimore Blogger Happy Hour
I'm posting my obligatory recap of the blogger happy hour a little belatedly, I'm afraid, but I'll say in my defense that that's only because I'm still pretty drunk.
I had a great time meeting y'all. I'd list the names and links for everyone I told embarrassing and incriminating stories to, but I'm terrible with names. And faces. So drunk: did I mention that? I am so drunk right now.
*I know a lot of you were sad when I announced that I'd be quitting my band in order to devote more time to the duties of my office. Take heart: I was lying.
*I'm sorry I took my shirt off. I thought one of you had some beads, but it turns out it was just a keyring. Can we say awkward? My face is red.
*It was nice of you to give me a ride home, too, whoever you were. I can't say I recall.
*Sadly, it was not my home, but on the upside, it's cleaner than my own home, and whoever lives here has Tivo, so that rules.
All in all, I'm looking forward to next month's gathering. David told me he had a great time, too. posted by Frenz | 3/17/2005 11:26:00 PM
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Wednesday, March 16, 2005 I hear people sayin, "Why is this tree bent?"
Helen just shamed me for not posting for two days.
I've been too busy with work and partying obligations.
It's like I'm on a rollercoaster that won't stop. My hands are all sore from hitting stuff at band practice. Today, I realized, too late, that I should have been more protective of my broom hand.
Oh, hey, actually, eff that. Death and destruction to my broom hand.
No, work's awesome. I try to get upset about it, but I can't. All day long, I stay diverted, which is more than I can say about time spent at other jobs. I sweep, I take my miraculous place within the towel cycle (collect, wash, dry, set out, and on ad infinitum), I answer the phone in a particular way--what's not to like?
I got an exciting new haircut the other day. It has given me a new outlook on life, and from this day forward I have decided to be virtuous and kind.
Except for tonight: tonight I will spoil a certain internet-celebrity dog, and watch America's Next Top Model, cattily, with my sister.
Then tomorrow, I will work on acheiving fame and fortune so vast and comfortable that I could break diamonds with my broom hand with total impunity. posted by Frenz | 3/16/2005 07:45:00 PM
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Monday, March 14, 2005 Oh Lord, oh gee, I swear
Good morning internet! I'm here with you this morning because I decided to take the bus, so I have another few lazy minutes. I'm still sore from the long hours at work and the constant dance parties at home this weekend, and it's cold outside. Also, how could anyone possibly not like the bus? I love to cuddle right up with strangers, and if I do that in a non-bus context, suddenly I'm the asshole.
In honor of gothic mondays, today I have a poor attitude and worse posture. posted by Frenz | 3/14/2005 09:01:00 AM
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Sunday, March 13, 2005 wreck their plans saturday
I'm sitting on someone else's couch, and someone else's little dog is curled up on my shoulder, like I am Pegleg Pete, and she is my trusty, snoring parrot. Avast.
It's nice.
I worked long days at the beauty parlor yesterday and the day before, and each of those evenings I had certain partying obligations to fulfill. Obligation is an ugly word. Partying oppourtunities. It's been one of those, "Whatever, I'll sleep when I'm dead." weekends, but now that the whirl of gaiety has subsided a little, I find that I'm not really tired.
Based on what a dozen different people told me on the phone yesterday, today's the day that everyone in Baltimore finally runs out of town in the night, dragging the sack of stolen diamonds and their boss's wife along with them. Clearly, yesterday, all of these future fugitives were replaying their plans for the big heist in their heads over and over, to make sure that everything went off without a hitch, when they realized that for the last four-to-six weeks, while they'd been pouring over the blueprints at midnight, trying to figure out whether it made more sense to cut a hole in the wall or crawl through the heating duct before navigating the lasers, their hair had been growing. It had been growing these nights, and even the nights where they called the bosses house and hung up, and called again, from a different payphone each time (getting harder to find payphones than it used to be, they noticed, then laughed to themselves about how it was still possible, in times so fraught with aching love and bitter greed, to be so casual, as if they were someone ordinary).
It would never do, the conspirators of Baltimore realized, to allow themselves to look like unmade beds on the big night. They loved the boss's wife with all their hearts, and wanted to grow old with her, but they knew that, once the heist was over and they were living under assumed names in San Pedro, this night, this shining night, if they lived through it, was going to be their whole lives, really. Everything after, even the tightness in the chest they would catch every time they saw a policeman, and even the emerald stickpins and advanced video game systems they planned to buy once they fenced the ice, would be shadows and mist compared to the way the details on the day of the heist would remain true and actual forevermore.
They couldn't have split ends that night, or a rogue cowlick. The idea of that image of them burned into the boss's wife's lovely eyes forever haunted them. Even though there was so much to do, too much to do, they knew they had to take action.
They called me. I'm the go-to girl when it comes to this kind of thing, and anyone with any sense in this town knows it.
Do you see? This is why, when people called on Saturday and asked for a haircut appointment on a day that had been booked down to the last fifteen minutes by Friday afternoon, they became nearly hysterical with rage and pain.
It is also why, when I offered them appointments for later in the week or the following Saturday, they bellowed "I AM GOING OUT OF TOWN! I NEED A HAIRCUT TODAY!" into the phone.
Here's another thing: my employers and I were their only hope, because the heist hadn't happened yet, and they only had eleven dollars. posted by Frenz | 3/13/2005 12:30:00 PM
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Thursday, March 10, 2005 everything's hilarious thursday
A man just came into the house with a giant drum. Soon, a band will practice in my basement, and I will be in that band, too. I don't why. I just know it's a great idea. In a few weeks, this "band" will play a local nightclub.
Update: Right now, we're "takin' five." Why am I in band? Why is anything anything? posted by Frenz | 3/10/2005 06:11:00 PM
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Wednesday, March 09, 2005 bold new looks for spring
The subscription to Scientific American that I signed up for weeks ago and kept forgetting about has finally born fruit. This fruit will annihilate my pores, I promise. I like Scientific American because reading it feels exactly like staring for hours into a mirror trying to decide if one's ears are crooked or one's teeth need bleaching.
Jesus God, though: other women's magazines: so dumb. I've been on a wildcat reading-at-the-reception-desk spree at work lately. Reading Cosmo, for example, recreates the feeling of talking to a total dipshit and trying to decide how to leave, while secretly wondering if you hate them because they're a bad person, or because you are.
Anyway, here are my hot tips for Spring!
*Don't throw your money or credit card down on the desk, inches from my extended hand.
*Do try a stupid new eyeshadow color.
*Go jump in the lake. posted by Frenz | 3/09/2005 08:29:00 PM
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Monday, March 07, 2005 geeeeeenius
My internal clock is all ruined. I'm up anyway. You might as well know.
I have to get up and go to my dumb job tomorrow. I like my dumb job, of course, but I think the honeymoon may be over. A few days ago a woman said, "You're a genius!" when I looked at her and said "Don't you already have a haircut card?" I suppose it was nicer than saying, "You're not a simpleton! Way to perform this very basic task competently." Nah, she was being nice, I know, and didn't mean anything by it, but it was indeed the most ingenious thing I'd done at that job in a while. It's also about the highest genius level that my job allows me to shoot for.
If I were a more virtuous person, I'd have a better job by now. I hate job hunting, though. I hate working on my resume, and I hate interviews. Most days, it seems a lot easier to keep doing my dumb, pleasant job, accept my peanuts at the end of the week, and repeat endlessly.
My sister speculates that it's a side affect of having parents who didn't have jobs for the early part of our respective childhoods, but I'm just not inclined to have career ambition. I think being homeschooled for a bunch of years has a lot to do with it, too. I still feel like I'm above the law, and that I don't have to do what others do.
I am used to creative, self-directed activities that let me really actualize myself and develop my personality. I mean activities like watching Green Acres reruns. I mean naps.
And there you go. I'm just typing, here, but that's a perfect, serendipitous way to transition to the end of this entry. I slept for most of this, my one weekend day off, and now I can't sleep, but I have to try now, otherwise I will never be able to do any feats of reception genius tomorrow. posted by Frenz | 3/07/2005 04:07:00 AM
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Sunday, March 06, 2005 it is easy, isn't it?
Recently, a mother and her daughter came into the hair place looking for an appointment, but we were booked up for the day. The whole time I was talking to the mother, the kid was trying to interrupt saying that she wanted her haircut immediately. Then, when they were leaving, the kid asked for a lollipop. In my mind, I pictured the giant bag of lollipops sitting in the back room.
I looked down at her adorable, rosy-cheeked face, and I said, "No. Tomorrow, when you get your haircut. Not now." She made the noise that bratty kids make when they're old enough to know better: a guttural, high-pitched scream. I looked at her screaming for a while, and then her mother took her away. A few minutes later, I was taking some trash out to the dumpster, and I saw them walking on the street. I've never had so strong an urge to make an obscene gesture to an eight-year-old. posted by Frenz | 3/06/2005 07:38:00 PM
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Wednesday, March 02, 2005 faux-pas Wednesday
Today when I was walking back to work from the bank, I tripped for no reason as I was crossing the street. I flailed and flailed, and I managed not to fall. Then I took a humble bow. A woman who had been walking up the street laughed at me and asked me if I was OK. She said she was glad I was.
A few minutes ago, I answered my home phone by saying, "Name of hairplace". Then I had to say, "No, sorry. I mean, I'm Cara. This is my house. How can I help you?"
Maybe I need a vacation.
Anyway, I'm not getting one, because that was my other job, and I have to go tutor some dude now. I hope he knows how shamefully I'm about to advise him.
Sike: I'm actually a good tutor. posted by Frenz | 3/02/2005 04:05:00 PM
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