charon_grayi's Journal

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universal truth.

A beautiful 20something woman came into my work today, begging for an appointment with our salon's colorist.

Her poor, mangled hair was a mess of split ends, white patches, broken chunks and yellow streaks.
when she couldn't get an immediate appointment with us, we made some calls and sent her down the street to a competing salon.
( screw professional rivalry. Frankly, this girl needed whatever unholy nightmare had been visited upon her head to be fixed. and as quickly as possible.)

To be perfectly honest, i was a bit surprised when she came back a few hours later.
she looked amazing.

her hair had been lightened to a pure snow white, and all the yellow had been removed.
there were subtle silver streaks accenting her face, and her eyebrows had been dyed a soft charcoal gray.

i started helping her out with her shampoo requirements, and took the opportunity to ask what had caused her earlier hair apocalypse.

"welllll...." she said,
"my friend is a colorist, and she has amazing hair.
i really wanted my hair bleached white, and she bleaches her own hair an amazing platinum blond."

she paused for a moment to study the label on an intensive hair repair mask before continuing.

"she's chinese, so to bleach her hair that light is really tricky.
anyway, things were going great until she fell asleep in the middle on the bleaching process."

with a world-weary sigh, she then said the most brilliant sentence in the history of the universe:

" yeah. never have a narcoleptic beautician bleach your hair. "

Current Mood: amused

simon's cat

a new installment!

new job
so i got a new job.
i still have the one where i glop goop onto the faces of the unwary (otherwise known as working at a high-end salon) but my new one should be much more interesting.

anyhoo, in order to get this new job i had to be checked out thoroughly, in an effort to make sure i was at least 10% less strange than the people i would be watching over.
this involved a bevy of background investigators called "Reference Pro" to call up, email, or otherwise check out my employment history to make sure my resume was correct and that i don't secretly collect severed human ears.

that brings us to today, when my new boss called up and told me my background check went "ok", and i could now start my training.

i was intrigued by this wording.

he then explained to me that "it went ok" meant the investigators had found a discrepancy on my resume.

you see, i had put down that i was a photographer's assistant.
the investigators had determined that i was, in fact, a photography and production assistant!
(cue dramatic music)

AHA!!!!!
they then told my new boss that this discrepancy was so heinous, so diabolically misleading, that he needed his supervisors to give the ok before they signed off on me.

"...are you serious?" my befuddled boss asked them.

of course they were.

so my boss dutifully called up his supervisors, explained the situation, and waited for a response.
"..... Are you serious?" they echoed in confusion, unsure of what the problem with my being even MORE awesome was.

eventually i was given clearance, despite my apparently terrible and heinous crimes against THE TRUTH!
(cue more dramatic music)

ahhhhh.... bureaucracy!

:D

Current Mood: amused

do NOT grill crabs on the BBQ.
it is not their natural element.
feel sick.
think it's food poisoning.
gonna go throw up now.

bleeeeeeergh.

Vara put up a couple of new/old photos she did of me.
I loves me some Vara.

to all my L.A friends out there, shoot with her.
she is amazing. just look at her portfolio.
this girl is super talented, and a real professional.

she is probably the only reason for me to wish i was still modeling.

no DG tonight.
too sleepy, too lazy, and my broke-ass is too poor.
plus, my cramps are making me homicidal, and i could find 12 different ways to kill you all with just my earring.
too tempting.

yawn!
mornings make me grumpy.

in other news, i have been trying to assert my individuality at work by sneaking in little stuffed dolls to play with.
i do this mostly when customers are staring like lobotomy patients at our rows of products, then shun my offer of help like i'm a particularly virulent leper.
Believe me. a dancing fuzzy frog does wonders for keeping my sanity intact, and my urge to say something down.

the manager and her best friend/ assistant manager have caught me a couple of times when i've used my Giant Satchel 'O Doom for the teddy bear smuggling (they search our person and bags thoroughly each and every time we leave the premises.) and have expressed scorn and, for variety, thinly veiled contempt.
my other co-workers, however, love these silly and illicit toys.

so i have now turned the situation into a game, as is only right and proper.

i have to have my hair styled and in updo, as per the dress code regulations?
then be prepared to see a stuffed turtle sitting on my head, looking with longing at the brightly colored rubber fish swimming through waves of hair.

i have to have accessories?
tiny little plastic chameleons make GREAT bracelets.
garish rubber snakes make a dashing necklace.

if i get reprimanded when i bring toy mice, birds, and frogs to work in my bag or pocket, then i'll simply walk in the door with them woven in my hair or perched on my head like a hat.

so far, they have been too confused to say anything.
they just look,
look again,
open their mouthes to say something, then change their minds.

i tell them it's all the rage in france.

later, when they leave for the day, my coworkers and i make the dinosaurs and teddy bears battle for supremacy amidst the shampoos.

VIVA LA RESISTANCE!!!!!!!

while going through my storage boxes, i found something i'd forgotten about.
it was one of those weird, expensive things that one buys in a mad rush of excitement, then has NO occasion to wear.

i own a skin-tight, vivid yellow and black, superhero-style latex mini-dress.
with radiation symbols on it.
and... a matching latex thong.

why would i do this, when i will probably never wear it out in public?

when, in reality, i rather despise the sweaty, unbreathable, rubbery feel of latex?

when it is so obscenely skin tight that it actually indents at my bellybutton?

welllllllllll..... when i weigh 8 pounds less than i do now, it looks good enough to start a riot.
currently it could probably cause a mild skirmish, but latex is a cruel mistress and rather unforgiving.
instead, i will use it's super sexy powers as my incentive to tone up a bit. Latex demands tight muscles.

besides. when i get bitten by a radioactive junebug, i need to have a costume ready.
:)

Dye, dye my darling
with my roots threatening to lay siege to my entire head, i decided to forgo the washed-out auburn in favor of a really, REALLY dark brown.

at first i was reluctant to do this, since i had been toying with the idea of shaving it bald and running off to go live an esoteric, smelly, and hermetic life.
perhaps something that involved eating grass and lots of chanting.

i then sadly remembered that i wasn't on a mountain in Budapest, but instead worked in a regimented beauty shop selling wrinkle cream and "thinny chin chin" to jowly matriarchs.

...yup.

So an hour later i was blow-drying my new brunette hair.
a few minutes after that , i also remembered that i now have a nifty little tiny camera.

so here is a myspace-style at-arm's-length photo of my new hair. just for the hell of it.

it's too hot, and i can't sleep.

the flamboyant hairdresser at my work told me i need to bob my hair, and dye it black.

i'm... not so sure.
every time i've chopped my hair off, i've wept silent tears or remore and railed my fists against the uncaring sky.
after that tirade, i proceed to drink until i've forgotten how to pronounce the word "hair".

plus, i just don't know if black hair is my thing.
it's a little... harsh. at least on me.
not everyone can or should go for that style.
i did it for 11 years as a teen and early 20something, but now... not so much.

i told him no.
still, i now feel the need to gather other, less biased opinions than my own.
so here is a semi-recent photo of me in a black bob wig:

*************************************************************************
And this is another Me-in-a-wig, but is exactly what i'm trying to achieve with growing it out. (getting close!)

soooooo... opinions?
or a suggestion?
Perhaps a style less harsh than a short bob, but less apathetic than simply letting hair grow in a tediously slow manner?

i have insomnia and PMS.
it was either a hair poll or a long discussion about my cramps.
:)

Photos by owen.

I WANT THIS.
The WASP Injector Knife:

This weapon injects a frozen ball of compressed gas approximately the size of a basketball at 850psi nearly instantly. The effects of this injection will drop many of the world's largest land predators. The effects of the compressed gas not only cause over-inflation during ascent when used underwater, but also freezes all tissues and organs surrounding the point of injection on land or at sea. When used underwater, the injected gas carries the predator to the surface BEFORE blood is released into the water. Thus giving the diver added protection by diverting other potential predators to the surface.

...
HOLY SHIT!!!!
the "bullet" of high-pressured and freezing compressed gas is shot out through a tiny opening in the tip of the blade, instantly freezing the organs and tissue from deep inside the stab wound.

...wow.

is it wrong to really, REALLY want this?

My sister got drunk and wrote a little ditty late last night....
Good God i love my little sis!

" I'm afraid we have it on strong speculation
the virus has formed another mutation
where once but a single healthy arm grew
two more limbs have sprung up anew
Your legs, I'm sure, have left you immobile
they look like something culled from Chernobyl
And, if I may, would you find it crass
if I inquired about that pulsating rash?
To be frank I must say that I find it quite queer
that you've grown such large boils on each of your ears
I'd like you to stay for some more observation...
I'm putting you on mutant probation."

she is always creative and funny, but when she is "altered" she actually has the power to make me laugh till i choke on my tea.

right now my mother is knitting me a long, conical hat.
it will be very jaunty.
i will wear it always, and look like a san francisco version of Link.
anyone who calls me a stoned elf will get punched in the kibbles, because i will stand for no mockery of my new hat.
it is just that awesome.
with it i will steal your girlfriends, your boyfriends, your iguanas, and your house keys because all four will be magnetically drawn to my amazing knitted headcozy.
i love my mother.
that is all.

Huh.
Deep Cajun accents can be almost as deliciously take-me-right-here-on-the-floor sounding as British and Ukrainian ones.

Good to know, i guess.

Just Because.

i want one of these.
wouldn't you?

Daily grind.
"Madam, it appears, (with my newfound gift of sight) that you possess pores one could lose a small toddler in.
might i suggest this highly concentrated, pure acid, skin-melting serum?

Yes, it is criminally expensive, but i am required by this company to personally sell $1200 worth of products a day, or i will have my hours cut and eventually be fired.

yes, it's strong enough.
no. it really is.
Really. it IS.
it will peel and snap your skin so tight, your face might actually turn inside-out through your oral cavity.

yes, you need to read the instructions carefully.

....why?
why not just glop it on and hope for the best?

Wellll... while we as a country must make sure anyone buying a Bic lighter is over the age of 18, i am allowed to sell this face-melting acid to the average american, who is about as careful and intelligent as.. well... as you appear to be.

that is why we give out these highly detailed booklets that explain, step-by-step, how to use this product.
it also explains that if you "just glop it on", your face will melt off, hoards of locusts will descend from the sky, the sun will turn to ash, and mighty Cthulhu himself will rise from the deep and enslave humanity.

no, i STRONGLY suggest you do not use it to remove your eye wrinkles.
NO, i STRONGLY SUGGEST IN A HORRIFIED TONE that you do not use any "leftovers" on your 13 year old Chihuahua to "freshen her up".

... if you use it on your 10 year old daughter for "yearbook photo day" i will call the police.

thank you Madam. have a nice day. keep your receipt, and may god have mercy on your soul."

Wheeeeeee!!!!
i got my new glasses today.
now i can actually SEE things, as opposed to squinting really hard and making semi-educated guesses.
they have black plastic frames, so i can now impersonate a sexy librarian or a unusually chipper emo girl.
did i mention i can now see?
because that, to me, is really important.

the downside is that many are less attractive than i had previously thought.
the upside is, many of you are much MORE so, you sexy little things you! (Rawrrrrrrr!!!!)