7 Minutes in Heaven

I woke up this morning feeling productive, so I hauled out of bed and got a haircut. On the North end of town there's a place called the Regency Beauty Insititute. Or rather, Heaven. Never before have I seen an institution so dedicated to educating none but the finest of the fine. Not only were the beauty students hot, but the teachers were hot, the receptionists were hot, and the clients getting they're hair done were hot. On top of all this, the girlfriend came with me to make sure I didn't walk out with a purple mohawk.

Now this all started off great, and it got even better when my hairstylist came out to introduce herself. "Hi my name's Kayla and I wanna say thanks for being part of my educational experience today."

Unhh.

The fun ended here, though. Kayla was sweet, and nothing if not terribly cute and nice to boot, but her defining feature was her nerves. I don't blame the girl, she had to do my hair with 2 instructors watching over her shoulder, and judging by the way they talked to her, she hadn't had much previous success with guy's hair. Still, even after nicking her fingers with the scissors twice, she kept at it.

In an effort to keep things light, I tried to loosen her up with some friendly conversation. I had to walk a fine line, since Bonita was right there watching, and I didn't want her to think I was hitting on the beauty student, but I did my best. We discussed beauty school, and our common desire to open up our own stores (different types of stores of course), and I think once we began talking it went much smoother. There was a little 3 year old girl in the chair next to mine getting her hair curled who was talking up a storm, and when Kayla looked over at her and said "Aww your hair looks so cute!" I coyly quipped "Why thank you!" and earned my first deathglare of the day.

It's true I deserved that one, but I plead not guilty on the second. When we had finished, I moved to get up and suddenly remembered that it was customary to tip a haircutter, and reached for my wallet. I only had a ten, so, feeling generous, I gave Kayla the ten, smiled, and left. Bonita was not a fan of the tip.

See this is where I have problems. I used to work for tips, so I always tip on the high side for good service (especially the kind of service where they rub their boobs on you when they trim your sideburns). I've caught flakk for this before, but I guess it's a lasting habit that's hard to break. I tried to explain to her that tipping is just a soft spot for me, and that it could have been a 400 lb sweaty man and I still would have tipped high, so long as he pressed his boobs on me, but she just wouldn't hear it. Women.

Agenda

To Do:

1. Get a haircut - I keep telling myself to go get it cut, but things always get in the way. I was almost there yesterday, but I got a call right before my 2 hr break telling me it was now only <45>

2. Take passport photos - I've kinda been waiting for #1 first before doing this. I suppose I COULD take pictures looking like a yeti, but I'd like to avoid another botched photo shoot (speaking specifically about my driver's liscense, in which my 16 year old self sports an afro so large it leaves the frame).

3. Go to the drum shop and take a few lessons - I've got plenty of musical knowledge, and I can practically hear the metronome beating in my ear, and I thought it might be fun to take drum lessons. This way I can take a practice pad with me, and not lug a bigass horn around when I want to practice. Plus girls think drummers are sexy.

4. Enjoy my weekend with Bonita! - We both managed to avoid being scheduled this Fri/Sat, and plan on having a sleepover. We considered attending a party at my would-be house in Blo-No, but I've got better plans.

5. Call/Have long talk with Siblings - This really is number 1. I owe Easel a long phone call, but cannot make that call until the weekend. She can expect that tomorrow afternoon though.

Hot - Tatts - Corps - Questions

It's hot. Last week the average temperature was 60, so the AC was shut off, the windows opened, and sweatshirts broken out of the closet. Now it's 90 again, and the roommate doesn't want the AC on (I don't blame him, it costs $) so we have to sweat like it's July again.

The plus side of this is that I got to wear shorts to work again, and they're fitting a little looser than they had before. Hopefully this means I'm smaller, not that I drug up shorts that haven't been washed in 4 weeks.

Pay day is Thursday, and bonus checks are next Tuesday, so I plan to finish the tatts sometime either this weekend or next. Once completed I will post pictures. If I can figure out how.

Tonight is inventory night, which usually means 1 or 2 AM, but I do have a training class, which should allow me to leave at 11:30. Nice. Sadly Bonita has an 11 o'clock curfew, so my early(ish) night will have to spent with my other loves: drum corps dvds and pizza rolls. Speaking of which, I ordered the 2003 finals dvds last week and am eargerly awaiting their arrival! Word of advice though, don't order from dci.org unless you have an hour to spend trying to create a login/password. I had to do it about 13 times before it finally accepted it.
Question to the blogosphere: is it permissible to post my email address? I figure since the address has no personal info associated with it, it wouldn't be a problem, but god forbid I break the unwritten rules of the blog. (Or are they written?)

Hooray!

Well it's 9 PM, and not quite "tomorrow" yet, but I have the opportunity to write, and well, I'm gonna take it.

Chillax- yes it was one hell of a date. I'm sitting next to the Hot Almost Girlfriend right now, but she's now the Hot Pretty Much Perfect Girlfriend. This just goes to show that actually showering before dates pays off. What might have happened if I had blogged just a little longer, forsaken the shower, and rushed to my date grungy and with horrendous bedhead? The world may never know. And thank god, because I haven't been happier with anyone else in my life. Bonita, as I shall call her henceforth, will undoubtedly be the subject of many a future blog.

Plug- I go to take my passport photos tomorrow at Walgreen's, but first I have a date with the hairstylist. I've seen what botched passports look like (...) and I don't intend to offend.

Rake- In response to our hasty Facebook conversation. No. And thank god. But I was worried for a bit, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about. But it's all good now, so no need to fret.

Jaz- I've been absent recently, are you who I think you are? Methinks you might be the maternal half of our family's long time church-Dos lunch excursion companions. The quiet half.

Sandbox and Easel- I'm positively thrilled that you're now blogging. See my comments on yours, and I hope you'll remember to check mine every so often. Btw when's Dad gonna get a blog?

Dagromm- I haven't had the 98987539221224908 hours to spare that it will take to catch up on reading your blog, but when I do, I'll be sure to comment and join in the hilarity.

And with that, Good Night!

Much like my elusive relatives, I have decided to make a triumphant return to the blog world... tomorrow.