McFarty Pants

While sitting at dinner last night and conversing about my friends girlfriend who won't fart for a year and then lets out the built up cloud of gas strait from the depths of hell, I thought of something.
Yes McFartypants gave me a genius idea. As many know, I am a hair Stylist. Well think about the torture someone like me endures when a case of gas hits? If I am in the middle of doing someones' hair, I can't move. If I excuse myself it trails me back and holding it just never seems to be an option. I usually just grab my blow drier (if timing is appropriate) and claim I'm blowing the snippets of hair off their neck while conveniently having bad aim to wisp away the stinky doomdom from my ass.
There seems to be some miraculous new technology with air neutralizers. These sprays are amazing but unfortunately I think my client might figure out what I'm up to if I were to stop what I'm doing and start spraying it in the general vicinity.So I think someone needs to make a pair of underwear with a type of ventilation filter built into the ass. Like an air neutralizing trap for gas! I mean seriously, it wouldn't be that hard to do and it wouldn't need to be bulky. Just a pocket in the back of your undies where you place the new pad each time you wear through one. It could even have a little censor meter that tells you when the little ionic particles run low and it needs to be changed.
Now to find financial backing for my invention...someone will steal this idea for sure!

Mutt Whiskey

Once upon a time I had a dog; it was a brief stint. I had walked by one of the Saturday pet adoptions on the sidewalk down the way from my work. Upon walking by and not seeing a dog that tugged properly at my heart strings I noticed a burnt orange tail peeking out from under a table. I asked to see the pup. It was an adorable mutt named Wispy. “Wispy?” I thought “That’s a dumb name for a boy dog!” going on the color of his fur and drunken demeanor which I later found out was due to bad hips, I deemed the pup “Whiskey”. It was a good name. Somewhere in my mind I thought “I am ready for this.” I must have been crazy. I filled out some papers and took Whiskey on as a foster dog until I was ready to adopt or in my case they found him a home before I was ready. During Whiskey’s stay at my home I took him for walks downtown. I started noticing a prejudice towards this awesome dog. People would constantly walk up to other dogs and pet them, yet they would ignore mine. At some point someone walked up to a dog Whiskey was sniffing and started with the goo goo, gaa gaa child voice over this obviously superior breed of a dog and asked what kind it was. I don’t remember but it was some kind of dumb half breed cocktail of a dog like a Puggle or a Labradoodle and let’s be honest people; IT’S A MUTT!!! (Especially if it’s not in my spell check) Sheesh you would think I had a zit riddled teenager who had just joined the 9^th grade. I look at the lady and said “Don’t you want to know what breed my dog is?” There was a bit of a pause and an uncomfortable reluctant “ooooook” from her. I smiled and announced quite valiantly “He’s one hundred percent pure bred mutt!” I smiled and walked away.

Funeral Flowers

Their are certain things you should avoid if you are a hairdresser. A major one would be eating anything that will cause you to blow a hole in the back of your pants. For some unknown reason I decided it would be a good idea to eat a bag full of fresh cherries before starting my eight hour shift. Towards the end my stomach started percolating and the clenching began. As I said goodbye to my last client, pushing them out the door in a hurry, I sighed with relief allowing hurricane force winds to escape from my buttocks. Mmmmm that was nice...*sniff sniff* GOOD GOD!!! that's an impressive scent. Right as I start to think all is well I hear a voice coming from the side of me say "I smell funeral flowers?! You smell that?" It was Pete our stereotypical resident gay hairdresser. I start to blush and giggle, barely containing my laughter I peep out "Noooooo I don't smell anything." and he responds with "You don't smell carnations?" I quickly pondered if my ass was capable of smelling like carnations and realized he wasn't talking about me at all. I started to laugh and he looked at me with the confused puppy dog face. I believe we have coined a new phrase.

Tales from the chair

Every day is a new challenge in the hairdressing industry. We never know what crazy person will walk through the door next, what employee drama will arise or in todays case, what will break.
As I'm calling my next client back for her haircut she whispers "I think the toilet is broken." No biggie, I'm pretty handy when it comes to fixing things. I scamper off to fix what in theory is a simple situation(I should know better by now) when I open the door to the womans bathroom. "MAY DAY! MAY DAY! The Titanic has resurfaced and all the dead bodies smell awful."

Time to call the plumber because my degree is in beauty not doodie.

Ticks ok, I'm a professional

So this ten year old kid sits in my chair today excited to chop off about 8 inches of his hair down to a buzz cut. I start my clippers and the hair starts falling when he nonchalantly says;

KID; Oh by the way, I might have ticks!
*did I just hear that right?*
ME; Oh really?
HIS MOM: (laughing) Oh honey your so silly.
KID; (continues blathering about kid stuff) Blah blah blah....
buzz buzz buzz
KID; Blah blah blah...
buzz buzz buzz
ME; Well...I guess you were right!
KID; (very excited and jumping around) Really!!! I wanna see! I wanna see!

Meanwhile the full waiting room of clients is now cringing and looking at us like we're circus freaks. The mom rushes the kid outside to remove the hitchiker then brings him back in for me to complete the haircut.
There is no redemption for this one.

The saga continues...

Hair I am

Well, life has taken me full circle. I left the east coast in search of new things and new things I found. I'm a total slacker when it comes to blogging about everything these days and all the nifty things I've done in the last 4 years but we'll just say it's a lot.

He's a brief history; I've been all over the USA traveling, writing, and taking photos. I've worked as a writer, automotive mods salesperson, t-shirt designer, payroll specialist, among numerous other things. I even quit hairdressing for two years. I've lived in Glendale, AZ, Scottsdale, AZ, Los Angeles, CA, Marina Del Rey, CA and San Diego, CA.

Now after very little persuasion I'm back in my beloved Carolinas. Oh how I missed this place. I'm not quite back where I started but I'm close. I say Carolinas because I find myself so close to the North & South Carolina border I could throw a rock into one of the states. After my two year career hiatus I'm back to hair dressing. It's amazing how many of the disturbing things I blocked out from my former profession. I always had ridiculous stories to tell people of my time served...and I do mean time served. Some days being a hair dresser is down right torturous. When I die I'll probably go to heaven because I've already served my time in Hell. I've been back in the industry less than two weeks and already I've encountered Lice, nesting spiders, cradle cap, cutting myself, confessions to murder, screaming children, unimaginable stink, and accidentally chopping off someone's skin tag (it was a BIG skin tag) all while trying to keep a strait face and making them look better (well...some of them look better).

some days I question things...but I'm still happy to be back.

I gots teh crazy eyes

I am a firm believer in the theory that you can usually judge a book by its cover. Now I did just say usually because there are always exceptions to the rules and this week I do believe I am one of them. There are many people we come across who are inside, exactly what they appear to be on the outside. I met a girl once who looked exactly like a troll...and what do you know? She was a very troll like creature, just like we all know the big lovable teddy bear guy who may be huge but is a total softy. Well anyway, the topic of "crazy eyes" keeps coming up lately. I'm not sure how to explain them, it's the people you meet and weather it be there eyes completely bugging out of their heads or you can just tell there's a psychopath behind them waiting to leap out and stab you in the head. It is possible for "crazy eyes" to come and go. I know a girl who when I first met her had them and as she got older she got less crazy, there for the "crazy eyes" subsided. I never thought in a million years would I be the person to have crazy eyes but for the last 2 weeks my left eye has taken on a mind of it's own. Now, I know it's not the kind of "crazy eyes" I'm talking about, it's purely the nerve over my eye telling me to piss off it's going to do what it wants and my eyelashes are going to bootie dance with each other like teenagers in heat. For the first couple of days it was kind of funny and I couldn't ever catch it twitching when I tried to look in the mirror. I finally had the opportunity to see it but the second I got within viewing distance of the mirror it went away. I was like a Sesame Street character leaning in and away, in and away...near...far...near...far. When I stepped back it would twitch, when I got close it would go away. I giggled. "Whatever", I thought "No big deal, it doesn't hurt it's just annoying I can handle this." well that was until I was in the middle of a job interview with a place I really would like to work at and while being stared directly in the eyes by my possible new boss it starts twitching. "Damn you crazy eyes! Damn you all to hell!!!! Not only has my concentration disappeared but you're making me look like a psycho." ok interview over, it went well but they can't hire me until September...ummmm ok that won't work. Then today I'm trying to convince my apartment complex not to charge me an extra $150 because I couldn't find the drop box they so delightfully hid behind some foliage when "crazy eyes"took over again. I could just see the girls thoughts like a neon sign, "This chicks strait up crazy! Not only is she an idiot for not finding the drop box but she's going to kill me so I better not charge." I'm happy I don't have to pay the charge but as I type this my "crazy eye" is having another party, at least this time it's for good reason.

Perfect

While at work today I was talking with a very nice client of ours. For once it was a good conversation with someone who seems pretty darn cool (this is rare in customer service). We were talking about work related stuff when the words “Unfortunately accidents happen.” Came out of my mouth. Normally this is not something you would say to someone who is relying on you to provide a service but it was in relation to one of his employees who shall we say is less than perfect. Saying these words brought up a memory I hadn’t thought about in a while. There are certain people in this world that we hold to high standards and don’t want to think are less than perfect, like Doctors. A few years ago I was fortunate enough to witness the birth of my best friends child. Neither of us had watched such a scene take place. Here we are in a room filled with equipment, nurse and soon to follow the doctor. As the minutes came near that this little bundle of joy would enter the world the preparations began. Both my best friend and I get this confused look as the nurse tucks a plastic trash bag of sorts under the butt of my friends’ wife and was hanging off the end of the bed. I looked at the doctor and not realizing the stupidity of my question said “Is that to catch the baby?” the doctor chuckled and responded. “No it’s to catch everything else. But those little guys are slippery and unfortunately accidents happen.”