Your Hair is Stupid

My mom is not good at hair, and was terrible at doing others' hair, specifically mine. She would either put my hair in hot rollers and then brush the curl out until it was a massive, wavy ball of static, or she would brush it while I cried. I had very fine, tangly hair and  brushing it was never an enjoyable experience -- this was probably why I became interested in hair in the first place, to avoid tears. 

These are fucking terrible. All of them. Anytime.

My mom did know how to use hair-pins and bobby-pins though. I'll give her that. But I figured everything else out on my own. This isn't to say that my mom isn't feminine and all that, she is. She could do her hair just fine (though in limited variety), she just couldn't do others'. My sisters weren't much use either. They can both work it out when they want to, but I am better. They earned their varsity letters, I got my cosmetology license.

I understand that most people, did not spend their Saturday mornings as a child sitting on their beds with two mirrors and several combs teaching themselves how to French braid. I get that. However, I also am saddened by women everywhere who have never taken the time to learn how to do their hair in any way. It's as though they have never taken a single Saturday morning in their lives to figure out what to do with everything growing out of their heads. So they put it in claw. Then to make up for their complete ineptitude they spend time picking out "cute" hair clips. These clips continue to be popular because people continue to think hair is hard to do.

This isn't 1998, pulling your hair back with glittery butterfly clips isn't going to cut it if you want anyone, anywhere to respect you as an adult. You look like a child whose parents have unfortunately also not figured it out. It takes every fiber of my being to not pluck out hair clips when I see them on adult women. I just figure whatever they've go going on is definitely not being helped by that wretched clip. I do do this sometimes to friends and acquaintances, the recipients aren't ever welcoming, but it makes me feel like I've made the world a slightly more aesthetically pleasing place.


PROTIPS:

Ponytails should not require combing, nor should one have a multitude of clips to "smooth out the bumps" all over their head. Flip your head over, pull your hair back. Voila. It might not be perfect at first, but a ponytail should never take more than thirty seconds to do, if that. (Don't feed me any of that bullshit about having a different hair type, either.)

Braids are simple, unless you have absolutely no dexterity in your fingers. Three sections. Right over center. Left over (the new) center. Until it's done. BOOM.

Buns, of all varieties, no matter the hair type, are simple if you know the difference between hair-pins and bobby-pins. Just twist your hair around and pin it until it doesn't move, and you like it. If you do this enough, you'll figure what you're naturally inclined to do, and it will get easier. I promise.

This is a hair-pin - use this to hold hair to other hair.

This is a bobby-pin - use this to hold hair to your head.

The End of My Rope

I work in a really small salon. Aside from me there are only two other stylists, the owner and a girl my age who got her license last summer, and three receptionists. There's never more than four people working and we all contribute to all the menial tasks.

Lately, well since deciding to take a break from school and started working full-time in January, I've become obsessed with becoming busier. When I was working part-time it felt like I was busier, but with the same clientele and twice the hours, it doesn't quite feel that way anymore.

Business is slow most days and maybe once a week I'll be pleasantly surprised by a full day of walk-ins. I hate walk-ins. I'm a planner, I like knowing ahead of time what I'm going to do each day whether I'm at work or not. And I like to be busy. All the time. I don't deal well with boredom. For example, I am at work, right now, writing this instead of doing someone's hair.

I've been told that maybe I should look elsewhere, but I really love the people I work with. I couldn't ask for a better boss, and the girls I work with are like family, and I really want the salon to do well. Since becoming a full-time employee I've been trying to figure out what I can do to increase business. I've passed out fliers and coupons, "welcome bags," told everyone I encounter where I work - and I've created Twitter and Foursquare accounts. We've had a Facebook account, but it wasn't until recently that my boss made me an admistrator.

My boss' updates and mine can be very different. She may post something about a sale we're having, and then post again later that day about going to Lowe's to pick out pansies for the flowerbed out front. I hate the later of these. We're good at what we do, we shouldn't have time to update Facebook, let alone go shopping for pansies! No really, true story. I wanted to shoot myself in the head the day that she was outside weeding the flowerbed.

Explaining to her the benefits of Social Media and how we're not using it fully is difficult. She has never had a cell phone, she thinks the amount of time I spend on my Android is silly (though, if I was busy doing hair, I wouldn't have the time...). But the people with the silly smartphones, they're the ones that we want in our door. They're the one's that are going to check-in and tell their friends where they get their hair done.

I've asked her repeatedly to re-do our Web site as well. It looks like a MySpace page circa 2003, with the two-tone scrollbar and everything. Nevermind that the page is in no way user friendly and uses way too many words. It's all words. But not words used effieciently, the page goes on forever and is repeated and information is copied and pasted from product lines' Web sites - it's terrible, but she maintains confidence in our "web guy." This man was also kind enough to tell her that he wasn't "sold on Social Media" after she told him how I had started using it for the salon. Of course he's not sold on it, it's not profitable to him if one of her employees is doing it. Duh.

I've tried talking her into advertising with local publications, but the one she contacted didn't respond promptly or something and "it's expensive." Expensive is relative, and if you have to spend $500 on an add to get three new clients in, it will pay for itself.

Her idea of advertising is pursuing old clients, which is also important. I agree that clients should be rewarded for loyalty, but sending a postcard to someone every week just doesn't seem to be effective (because it's annoying). We get calls regularly from people asking to be taken off the mailing list, and I don't blame them. And the money we spend on that could be well spent on something else (like a pay-per-click add on fucking Facebook).

We ran a special where clients got a percentage off their serivce if they followed us on Twitter or "Liked" us on Facebook, it was somewhat successsful. It would be nice if we offered a discount for booking in advance, like before you leave the salon, like they do at every other salon everywhere, but nope. That would be an inconvenience? Or something..I don't know. I have absolutely no idea. But when you've been running a salon for 25 years, one would think you would be booked weeks or at least days in advance, no?

Sorry, this is all so disorganized. What do you do when you don't feel at all supported by your boss when you're trying to do something better for business? I'm at the end of my rope.

Brainmush

I should probably be getting ready for work right now. Not because my scheduled hours start in ten minutes but because I came in last Thursday at one. Because I had the time to spare and could use the money.

That was a mistake.

After graduation, and before I start nannying next week, I've had these two weeks to do almost anything - if only I had a car. I made the mistake of telling my boss this tidbit of information, and she being the crazy nasal speaker that she is took it as, "Please have me work 24/7 for the next two weeks, I would love to do anything to please you." That is not what I meant in the least.

So I've been picking up extra hours. That would be all fine and dandy if we were understaffed, but she has hired four more stylists, and now we're overstaffed. And she still wants everyone there all the fucking time.

Last Friday when I so graciously came in at one, there were ten of us there, with nothing to do. Same on Saturday, and Sunday.

I understand that the salon has to work a certain amount of hours each month, but instead of saying hey, we're down this many hours this month, who can make up a few? she says, "I need you to come in at this time and stay until this time." And then she has the nerve to put those in as your regular hours, and she knows they are not.

I'm really growing to resent her, and the fact that when I'm there I feel like I'm wasting my time because the commission I'm making doesn't amount to what it would if we had people in the waiting area rather than stylists bitching in the back.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love what I do. I love doing hair. I just don't like not having clients, or having clients that have bleached blond hair that's naturally dark and curly, or clients that don't know what they're talking about, etc. People are so stupid. Sometimes I can feel my brain shrinking at work. I'm not kidding. I'm also not sure if it's the incompetence around me or the overabundance of trash magazines, or both. For some reason when I try to read anything intelligible at work I can't focus, but the moment I pick up InTouch I can't focus on anything else.

That guy from work

I cut this kid's hair the other day. He came in a few days later to get my card. I gave it to him, but made the mistake of writing my full last name. Not good. He went home and added me on Facebook. Now he sends me messages, telling me how much he likes his hair, that he hopes I'm doing well, etc. What's worse is that my current "status" says that me feet are recovering from this weekend, and he sent me a message inquiring about my feet and that he hopes that they're alright and that he'll pray for me.

People he has his favorite scripture listed in his favorite quote section. I'm down with other people being religious, but if you even glance at my profile, you know that I'm not. I hope this boy doesn't try to "save" me. That would be bad, veryvery bad.

I had a dream about this recently (so weird). He came in with his mom. He sat in my chair and as I started cutting his hair, he started "speaking in tongues" and when I asked what he was doing he said that he was giving me a blessing. Then his mom, who was sitting in the waiting area, stood up and started gibbering, too. We asked them to stop, but they didn't because they thought we were heathens and need the Lord, and so I didn't finish the cut and we escorted them out.

I hope this never happens.

It's Official...

...I'm a Cosmetologist!

Thank you Mr. Brann for writing me that recommendation two years ago. I know you didn't want to, thought I was "above" this and all that non-sense (as did everyone else), but it's certainly paid off. And, now you all know that Amanda Jewell Pittman is by far the most random person you know, and capable of any and every thing.

Today I drove to McLean with Anya and we took the test. She finished in about thirty minutes (as I thought she would) and I sweated and bit my nails, cringing at all the questions about nail diseases BECAUSE THEY ALL LOOK AND SOUND THE SAME! But, thankfully I made it, and now it's done. All's I've got to do now is pay fifty bucks every year to stay liscensed, WHOO!

Paying Dues

Today was pretty good. I went to a wine tasting with everyone from work (no, I didn't have any, though Kiersty kept offering her's to me), the food was good. I like these sort of things, or think I'm going to like them, not that I didn't like this, but I find that I'm a lot quieter around groups of people where I know some and don't know some. I know Dr. D and Kathryn, and Carol (sort of, she doesn't really ever make conversation and when she does speak she whispers), but they all brought someone (Dr. D's wife, Kiersty, Carol's husband - whose name I've lost, and Kathryn's aunt, Alice?). Overall I had a good time.

I don't understand what it is with me and being able to talk to all of these people one-on-one, but when you throw them together I shut up. I suppose it's how differently I interact with all of them and the different sides of me they all know.

I'm being over-analytical. (I'm sorry, if that bothers you, but then again if it did then you wouldn't be reading this.)

Moving on. I went to an interview at the Hair Cuttery. It went well, I got the job. I'll be working two jobs, for awhile, I'm not sure how long. I kind of want to stick it out at VFCHC until the end of May, but working six days a week is going to be a lot of work and no play. I'm very playful. I'll see how it goes at the Hair Cuttery for a couple of weeks and then decide, so we'll see.

Then, when I got home from all that, I checked my email and had a message from ANOTHER family on www.nannies4hire.com! She left me her number and said to call, so I did, AND I'M MEETING THEM TOMORROW! This family lives in Manassas (about twenty minutes away) and has a ten-year-old son, and a seven-year-old daughter, AND provide a car while I'm on duty. The other family I've been talking to has two daughters ages twelve and nine, but they live in Vienna (about forty-five minutes away). Both would be fun, but in different ways, so we'll see.

After all that one would think that I was having a pretty good day, they would be right, except it finally hit me; I'm going to be working ALL THE TIME, LITERALLY! I suppose this is what it means to "pay your dues." I guess I thought it'd be after college, but now's the time I have to save money for college. I need to save money. A lot of it. I hate thinking about this. I wish I could just skip this part and go straight to having a decent job that pays the rent of a cute one-bedroom, one bath, apartment in the city. I have a while.

So, if you don't see me for a couple years (or four) it won't be because I died (I hope), but because I will be slaving away and remaining poor.

I suppose in the end, it will be worth it, all the shows I'm going to miss, all the nights spent in instead of out, I suppose that all adds up, in my bank account, so I can hand it over to whichever college I go to.

Paying dues, sucks.

yet something else i have in common with my father

I don't do blood, well at least my blood. if you're bleeding I'm excellent. I'm excellent in all emergencies.
I also don't do broken skin. If i can see inside your body, no matter how small the gash, i will become queasy.

Today while i was cutting Anya's hair in cosmetology I cut my finger. She, knowing that i don't like my blood quickly gave me a band-aid. It was fine, well sort of. If she had put the band-aid on and i hadn't seen it i would have been fine, but i saw it. I SAW INSIDE MY FINGER!

It's only a finger and yet it was quite traumatic. So traumatic in fact that i did become queasy and and nausious and dizzy, and OH MY GOD I CUT MY SKIN. SICK.

Mrs. Burchell had me sit down and but my head between my knees, and then apparently a couple of friends thought I'd do better if i had some fresh air and led me out into the hallway and opened the door. I don't remember this. Mostly because of all of the above reasons and everything was really blurry.

I fainted. In the hallway. In front of the Teacher-Cadet classroom. I was only out for a minute or so, and they caught me, so I was okay. BUT! I had cut my skin, my skin, my skin, my skin - and that is not okay.

I laid there for awhile regaining consciousness and a couple of girls who weren't in my class were standing over me when things started to become clear.

The nurse walked me down to her office, gave me a new band-aid, and had me sit down and drink water for awhile. She put the band-aid on, not me. I have yet to change it because i don't want to look at it. GROSS!

I've never passed out before, ever. So, I suppose this is kind of exciting, but it's very strange having all sorts of people that you don't really know ask you if you're alright. I'm fine, and hope this never happens again, but now that I know it's possible, it probably will. Hopefully not for a very, very long time.