the plague settles in.

We here at Camp Pixiemartin would like to assure you that despite the fact that I have the plague, courtesy of my momma, I am otherwise rockin' the free world. (Is it too late to put that lump of coal in your stocking, dude? Maybe I can get you a strip mining tour for your birthday! Or even a tour of the nearest and most conveniently located strip mine!)

("Oh no, but I sold my foot to get you the lump of coal for your stocking!" and "Oh no, but I sold my furnace to get you a stocking, so you could have one too!" Woe is us. Woe are us?)

I am hopped up and dopey on some arcane combination of dextromethorphan, guaifenesin, loratadine, opemrazole, ethinyl estradiol, norgestrel, bupropion, citalopram, and pseudoephedrine.

Yes, that pseudoephedrine.

The ever-lovin' precursor to methamphetamines. (You know, when I was a kid and relied on OTC allergy relief, I probably took enough pseudoephedrine pills to keep a mid-sized meth lab in operation for at least a week. Provided that someone else supplied the other ingredients needed. I don't even know where to begin to look for the fertilizer.)

I had to give the pharmacist my driver's license and sign some paperwork to even get my hands on the stuff.

To be honest, I was pretty much off my rocker pre-pseudoephedrine, so here's to looking forward to the show in the next few hours, to which I happen to have the best seat in the house.

I also have tangerines, water, juice, juicy gels (pre-fab gelatin in cups), tissue, an array of remote controls, a pile of pillows, and a stack of movies, none of which I can recall the titles to at this point in time. Gravedancers, maybe? I think Ratatouille for sure.

Yay cooking rats!

Yay Patton Oswald!

Yay not having to work today or tomorrow!

Oh oh oh... I'm forgetting.

If the doctor I saw today is cool enough, I should be able to get my prescription for Augmentin filled for like $10. Instead of $150 or so. Of course, I have to wait to get it, but still. (And if he isn't cool, I have a sharp shovel and a drop cloth in my trunk.)

And dude, Juno got 3 Golden Globe awards! I don't even know the chick, but I sorta feel like I do because of her web omnipresence and the fact that I've read her book. Boo-yah! Go Diablo Cody, go!

Thank you for reading our rambling missive, and rest assured that Pixie will soon be down for the day, and totally staying away from sharp objects. With gelatin. And remotes. And possibly even guest appearances by none other than Cricket Martin and her kitty, Posey Martin!

Bye now.

Holiday Wishlist Revisited.

1. Amazon or Borders gift certificates/cards.
   
   
2. cash.
   
   
3. I need new shearling slippers, Mom.
   

   And the lady delivers.
   

4. mini-muffin silicone baking pan.
   

   The wrong size, mind you, but still.
   

5. a massage &/or facial.
   
   
6. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.
   

   Now I've seen it twice!
   

7. The Goonies.
   
   
8. Target gift cards.
   
   
9. A new black, size small Liz Claiborne Women's Leather Scuba Jacket.
   
   Not one that looks like it.
   
   Just this exact jacket.
   
   Yes, the very same one I already wear and have beaten to near-death.
   
   I don't care where you get it, or for how much or little money it costs.
   
   And I don't mean that in a demandingly snotty princess way, just in a "$5 on eBay? Great! Your BFF has a brand new one in the hall closet and wants to give it to you for free? Great! $500 from France? Great!" kind of way.
   
   Carson Pirie Scott and Bonton have it for sure, but they probably also have it at Younkers or any CPS sister store. And don't forget to ask your BFF.
   

   My mom rocks like 50-times harder than your mom. Serious-like, yo.
   
   Love you momma!
   

10. Robert Sabuda's The Chronicles of Narnia Pop-Up, based on the works of C.S. Lewis.
    
    
11. Robert Sabuda's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz: A Commemorative Pop-Up, story by Frank L. Baum.
    
    
12. A Littermaid. Or a CatGenie.
    
    I mean, really, should I ever actually need to touch stinky-ass cat litter?
    
    Especially when I've been working all day, only to come home to find a nasty pile of presents in the litter box?
    
    It isn't like the act of poop scooping makes me humble or more aware of the world around me.
    
    If anything, it makes me have unkind thoughts and words for and about certain small, relatively innocent fuzzy denizens of this here residence.

I also received:

• The Pocket Paper Engineer, Volume I: Basic Forms: How to Make Pop-Ups Step-by-Step (Spiral-bound), from tif 'n wil.

  now I need to get the second book in the series.
  

• victoria's secret jammies from one of my stylists,
  

  cute, but too big and exchanged for something my size. damn v.s. is expensive!
  

• a bling-encrusted velvet BCBG track suit from another one of my stylists,
  

  comfy and pimp-tastic!
  

• a grow-your-own santa, magic towel, gelato lipgloss, and fruit roll-ups, from Secret Santa K,
  

  they said the santa would grow up to 600 x his original size, which I think they exaggerated slightly.

• glow-in-the-dark skull key-toppers, called "skeleton keys" from Secret Santa K,
  

  dude, you only wished you were cool enough to have one of these.
  
  they were even so cool that I had to spread out the coolness so it wasn't at toxic levels. so I gave 1 to Tif, 1 to Fe, 1 to Jo, 1 to K, and kept 2 for me.
  

• a blingy skull teapot and mug from Secret Santa K,
  
  
• hershey's kisses from one of my stylists,
  
  
• body butter, bubble bath, and bath tools (loofah, slippers, etc.) from even yet still another one of my stylists,
  
  
• a very goth-y chrome skull candle holder,
  

  when I finally get down to decorating the ol' dungeon, I will apparently have one less candle holder to buy. wooooo. spooky.
  

• a white iowa sweatshirt and a pink hawkeyes t-shirt duo,
  

  which magically turned into 2 new brassieres upon entering the intimates department at Younkers!

• 2 pairs hello kitty fuzzy jammie pants, one each pink and green,
  

  yay fuzzy warm and cute!
  
  just like l'il ol' me!

• a $50 gc to walmart,
  

  which promptly turned into a tank of gas (at $2.81/gal, I might add), 16-pounds of cat food, contact solution, and 10 pairs of socks,

• a new alox swiss army knife from matty,
  

  sadly, it has no tweezers or a toothpick. I picked it out though, so it's my own loss.
  

• a box of holiday junior mints from one of my stylists, Fe,
  
  
• a box of delicious chocolates from the Colorado cousins,
  
  
• a pewter fairy card-holder for my station, from a lovely one of my stylists,
  
  
• and the plague from my mom.
  

  thanks mom, being sick rules. or maybe i am hallucinating that part.

If I missed anything, suck on it.

I reeeeeeally do.

I really want to like London Ink.

I've watched it for several hours now, in fact. (Thank you DVR!)

And it's sooooooo bloody boring.

I really think I can't stand any more.

Which shocks me a little.

Sorry, luvs.

and they make a fashion statement, too...

watching eMpTVy right now...

I'm stuck by three things in particular:

1. I am watching music videos - like a constant stream of them.
   
   
2. They no longer discretely put the video information in the bottom left corner - it is now proudly emblazoned across the entire screen at the beginnings and endings in huge text.
   
   
3. Good Charlotte are wearing suits - and the lead singer isn't wearing make-up.
   
   No smudgy eyeliner, no half-chewed-off nail polish. Nothing.
   
   They could be BSB in those outfits.
   
   Of course, the hair is sort of a giveaway, and I totally can't see Kevin or Howie with two full sleeves of ink. Maybe Nick, but definitely no one else.
   

Oh, Jason Lee. Where did it all go wrong?

The Incredibles?

Completely acceptable, if only slightly unexpected, when you really think about it.

I mean, it's super heroes, for criminy's sake.

Monster House?

Ugh.

But okay-ish.

Underdog?

Egads.

Why why why?

And don't you care cite nostalgia as a reason.

Certainly, I remember a fondness for Holly Hobby during my childhood, but that doesn't mean I'd want to play her in a live-action movie.

Dreamcatcher?

Disgusting.

Ab-so-freaking-lute-ly grotesque.

Unless that is the reason you did it, and then I can sort of live with that.

Alvin & the Chipmunks?

Dave? Dave? Dave? You should be ashamed of your self.

For Christ's sake, that's even worse than Breckin Meyer playing Jon.

Holiday Wishlist

1. Amazon or Borders gift certificates/cards.
   
   
2. cash.
   
   
3. I need new shearling slippers, Mom.
   
   
4. mini-muffin silicone baking pan.
   
   
5. a massage &/or facial.
   
   
6. Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End.
   
   
7. The Goonies.
   
   
8. Target gift cards.
   
   
9. A new black, size small Liz Claiborne Women's Leather Scuba Jacket.
   
   Not one that looks like it.
   
   Just this exact jacket.
   
   Yes, the very same one I already wear and have beaten to near-death.
   
   I don't care where you get it, or for how much or little money it costs.
   
   And I don't mean that in a demandingly snotty princess way, just in a "$5 on eBay? Great! Your BFF has a brand new one in the hall closet and wants to give it to you for free? Great! $500 from France? Great!" kind of way.
   
   Carson Pirie Scott and Bonton have it for sure, but they probably also have it at Younkers or any CPS sister store. And don't forget to ask your BFF.
   
   
10. Robert Sabuda's The Chronicles of Narnia Pop-Up, based on the works of C.S. Lewis.
    
    
11. Robert Sabuda's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz: A Commemorative Pop-Up, story by Frank L. Baum.
    
    
12. A Littermaid. Or a CatGenie.
    
    I mean, really, should I ever actually need to touch stinky-ass cat litter?
    
    Especially when I've been working all day, only to come home to find a nasty pile of presents in the litter box?
    
    It isn't like the act of poop scooping makes me humble or more aware of the world around me.
    
    If anything, it makes me have unkind thoughts and words for and about certain small, relatively innocent fuzzy denizens of this here residence.
    
    
    

modern medicine.

kaboom y yo.

"Is that..."

"Is that a banjo?"

*nod*

"What is this shit?"

"Bon Jovi's new album. It all sounds like country, but he assures us that it isn't."

"Yeah, maybe like Ban Jovi."

"I love that."

"What?"

"That you just said that."

"Damn... then you should be glad you don't spend more time around me."

"I suppose."

lollapalooza 07.

I've been kinda down on spending time in front of the computer for the last couple of months, so I apologize for being remiss in updating.

August 3-5, I volunteered at Lollapalooza 07, running the Mulletorium at the Mindfield stage.

I perpetrated many crimes against hair, at the clients's requests mind you, and had a great deal of fun. I will be doing it again next year.

I was occupied volunteering everyday until like 5:30 pm, so I really got to only see the big shows, but it was a good time. I saw Spoon, Interpol, Snow Patrol, Daft Punk, LCD Soundsystem, Mink, My Morning Jacket, Satellite Party (TWICE!), Pearl Jam, and Patti Smith.

On the last day, I got a VIP wristband to the Lolla-Lounge, so I got a mini-massage, drank a bunch of free booze, ate some food, and loaded up my knapsack with snacks galore (they have great treats for the VIPs, so I helped myself...), and enjoyed Pearl Jam and My Morning Jacket, far away from the gigantic-ass crowds. Oh, and there were fireworks.

Unfortunately, I didn't have my new camera until that Sunday, so the only photos of previous days are crappy-ass cellphone pix that I may or may not future upload.

my favorite things

I do have to admit that the highpoint of the Southport Street Festival going on immediately outside the front door of my workplace this last weekend (you know, all 2.5 blocks of festive fun), was watching the little kids all dance around happily while the Sublime coverband performed the song Date Rape.

Or maybe it was the $9.00 funnel cake that tasted like stale everything that has ever been fried in that vat of oil, once it cooled down enough to eat.

and you thought we were friends.

In case you were anxiously awaiting the answers to the "how well do you know me" list, here they are:

1. What are the two movies I have seen more than any other movies? Bonus: Why?

Desperately Seeking Susan is one of them. Not only did I see it in the theatre multiple times, but when I worked at a video store during beauty school, I used to run the movie all day on the weekends when I was working. I've seen that bitch like at least 150 times.

The other one is Grease. Yes, I said Grease.

Almost every day after school during seventh grade, I would go over to Leona Hughes's house and watch it with her while we ate dinners of ramen with parmesan cheese sprinkled on top.

Perhaps not coincidentally, I stopped growing in 7th grade. Whether that can be attributed to the ramen or the movie, I can't rightly say.

2. What is the movie that I made everyone watch with me after I taped it off of AMC (back when they ran movies without commercial interruptions)?

Breakfast at Tiffany's. Which also happens to be one of my favorite movies, ever,

Amusingly, Goonies is playing at the art theatre near where I work this week. I might have to go see it again...

3. Why do I have so many houseplants?

Because I feel compelled to rescue them from places that should not sell houseplants, like Target and Jewel.

Oh, and it doesn't hurt that I have a pretty green thumb.

4. What was my favorite movie at the beginning of my frosh year of college, and why?

New Jack City.

Because I had a crush on Ice-T.

And because it was fucking awesome at the time.

5. Why don't I like Year Zero?

I am perfectly capable of dealing with moody, boozy, pasty, unhappy, skinny, junkie Trent making a concept album.

The Fragile? It's like setting sail in a well-used coracle, swirling around inside the tumult of his black and broken heart, and then washing up half-drowned on a foreign shore.

But shiny happy, physically fit, tan, mountain-biking Trent with guns like tree trunks?

Not only is he filled with clarity of thought and purpose, but he's also enjoying who he is, for Christ's sake.

Which goes violently against the tenets of everything I have ever held sacred and true.

Year Zero has a theme and a plot and an involved storyline about futurist societies, Big Brother, cultural stagnation, and the revolution against the aforementioned ills.

It's like he's strayed from the canon of nin.

Plus, it just plain doesn't sound as good as his old stuff.

6. How many paper shredders have I owned in the last 2 years?

Three.

The first 2 were inexpensive models that fit over the edge of a garbage can. After prolonged hoarding of shreddables, when I finally got around to taking care of it all, I fried the motors. Both times.

Now I have a more expensive model that cross-cuts paper and shreds discs and credit cards.

It laughs at a huge stack of sensitive documentation and personal information, facilitates the manufacturing of a metric ass-load of confetti, and then throws a ticker-tape parade just for the hell of it.

7. Which of Anne Rice's vampire novels have I _not_ read?

Blood Canticle.

Because even after sitting untouched on the "to read" shelf for a few years, it still manages to SUCK like unto the mightiest of vacuous, whirling space vortices.

how well do you know me?

1. What are the two movies I have seen more than any other movies? Bonus: Why?

2. What is the movie that I made everyone watch with me after I taped it off of AMC (back when they ran movies without commercial interruptions)?

3. Why do I have so many houseplants?

4. What was my favorite movie at the beginning of my frosh year of college, and why?

5. Why don't I like Year Zero?

6. How many paper shredders have I owned in the last 2 years?

7. Which of Anne Rice's vampire novels have I _not_ read?

wet paint - do not touch

In honor of my 35th year of life.

cleaning house

Is anyone interested in the following books? They're wasting space at my house, and they're valueless on Amazon.

1. Lavender: Practical Inspirations for Natural Gifts, Country Crafts & Decorative Displays - Tessa Evelgh, 1996, Lorenz Books, Hardcover.
2. The New Candle Book: Inspirational Ideas for Displaying, Using & Making Candles - Gloria Nicol, 1996, Lorenz Books, Hardcover.
3. The Complete Soapmaker: Tips, Techniques & Recipes fpr Luxurious Handmade Soaps - Norma Coney, 1996, Sterling/Lark, Hardcover.
4. Herbal Remedies: An Introduction to Herbs & Their Theraputic Uses (Naturally Better Series) - Tamara Kircher & Penny Lowery, 1996, Macmillan, Hardcover.
5. aveda pure essences: using flowers and plants to achieve a sense of well-being, circa 1993 0r 1994, soft-cover guide for retailers, very informative about essential oils in general.

Seriously, if anyone wants them, lemme know, otherwise I'm leaving them on the table in the hallway, and who knows what sort of strange neighbors I might have reading them.

(Someone left a huge stack of supernatural romance novels on that table, for criminy's sake - which I have, of course, been working my way through ever since.)

online research is so interesting

Why do 16 of the 17 group of synonym listings for shellac on thesaurus.com seem to involve beating the crap out of someone?

The first thing I think of when I hear “shellac” is the resinous substance created from the dissolution of lac into a solvent of some sort, which is then used to seal wooden furniture and the like. Not thrashing someone.

work conversations.

"So... do you go by Nathanial,

*shrug*

"or Nathan,

*shrug*

"or Nate,

*shrug*

"or Nat?"

"You can call me whatever."

*nod*


"..."

"..."

"Can I call you Boing-Boing McCoy?"

"No, please don't call me Boing-Boing McCoy."

"Are you sure?"

"Please don't call me Boing-Boing McCoy."

"Because, you know, you kinda look like a Boing-Boing McCoy."

*vehement headshake*

"But, whatever..."

*nod*

"I guess Nathanial is fine, too."

"Okay."

more reasons to love redbox.

She's the Man.

Dude, I hate to admit it, but with the exception of Lovewrecked, I love Amanda Bynes in quirky romantic, coming of age comedies.

Plus, it's a variation of Twelfth Night, my favorite Shakespearean gift to the world.

My fave Twelfth Night? The one with Imogen Stubbs, Tony Stephens, Ben Kingsley, & Helena Bonham Carter.

Mmmm. Toby Stephens as Duke Orsino.

Yummy-licious.

And for my viewing pleasure now? Eragon.

Guiltless movies at $1.06 a pop.

Less than a pop, even... a Pepsi is like $1.29 if you're lucky!

either way, i'll still be crying...

So I rented The Lake House from redbox.

It's exactly the kind of movie that I would certainly never pay $3.99 to rent, and would probably catch for "free" on HBO, if I still had a subscription. But for $1.06 (including tax), I'm game.

During the opening credits, I noted that it was based on a Korean film called Il Mare.

And I was enjoying the movie, it being a self-indulgent, tear-inducing chick-flick.

But then as the movie progressed, I realized that I wasn't sure if this was going to be a City of Angels, or a Wings of Desire.

In Wings of Desire, an angel discovers a lovely trapeze artist, literally falls, sells his gear, finds her, and lives happily ever after.

In City of Angels, an angel stalks an unhappy female surgeon, falls, gets mugged, finds her after many trials and tribulations, loves her for one night, watches her die horribly in a bike v. logging truck accident, and then lives happily never after as a mortal who has tasted love for one brief moment.

To be honest, it's really all just a matter of how relatively Hollywood-ized and tainted the story becomes in the telling.

And despite either eventuality, I still ended up snuffling and weeping at the end.

Now, I'm going to go watch Failure to Launch, also a $1.06 pick.

sounds

overheard

Onegin the movie?

At least I don't understand opera, or I'd probably judge that, too.

spoken

Things are going so well, I don't even clean my house anymore.

Well, I don't clean my house, either.

Yeah, but you don't have a maid.

driven mad

*chirp* *whirr* *chirp* *whirr*

Shut up! Shut up!

*chirp* *whirr* *chirp* *whirr*

One of you bitches better find that thing and kill it...

*chirp* *whirr* *chirp* *whirr*

... because I am so not living with two crickets.

dramarama at the workplacery

Okay, so I just got off the phone with my Assistant, who is 23, and tender-hearted, and a little weird, because the 40-somethings that work in the salon were bullying her.

Which means they were being bitchy, and she needs to grow a pair.

I am sympathetic to everyone's situation: you've got an insecure child trying to lead a team of stubborn mules.

They kick, they bite, they bray.

They're mules.

And you've got an experienced, opinionated, set-in-their-ways team of mules being led by a child who is afraid of them.

She's practically ready to quit because she's upset that they ignore her and bitch about her.

After listening to her vent for a while, I actually said to her, "When I was your age..." which made me feel really old. But it's true, at 23 I was a whole different person who took everything personally and cried a lot, too.

So, I shared a few experiences that I've had, and told her that at some point, I realized that I can't live in fear of other people, nor can I let their issues fuck with my issues, or worse, become my issues.

And I told her that she needs to learn how to do that, too. But I also told her that I kind of hope that she'll live the kind of life and have the experiences in her life where she'll never have to be hard and not care enough to let things bother her that deeply. I wish that sort of life for everyone.

It's not realistic, but it made her feel better. And I think she realizes that I am on her side, too. Because I'm not going to abandon her or the salon just because some other stylists who should know better than to act that petty and immature are acting bitchy or mean. Seriously, though, they're not going to run me out of there -- if I leave, it's on my own terms and for my own reasons.

Dude, I'm giving sage, confidence-building advice to early twenty-somethings. That's fucked up.

But also kind of cool.

I might be goofy and immature, but I'm also very sensical when I want to be, I've had a lot of shitty experiences in my life that I've learned from, and I've adopted and adapted the motivational teachings of a couple of industry leaders that help put my career life in perspective, and hopefully help others to order their lives a bit.

And good God, I can't even really call it peer-counseling, either, because I'm not really the kind of person who can be her peer.

Which can only mean... I'm a mentor.

drawbacks

I like my job. I really do. But I do not really like children coming into my job.

Perhaps peculiar to that particular neighborhood, everyone that frequents the salon and brings children with them, has like 4 kids, all pretty closely ranged in age from babe-in-arms to about 4th grade. And if they don't have 4 kids of their own, they come in with someone else that has the appropriate amount of children to round the group out to 4 children.

Case in point, we had two women bring their herd of children into the salon earlier today.

One woman had 3, the other woman had 1, and the woman with more children wanted both of her boys to get cuts.

She was told it would be at least 30 minutes, so they put the names in and left.

Ten minutes later, they all returned to the salon and sat down. Well, the adults sad down. The children instead started to whoop and holler and run around like little crazy people, clearly not using their indoor voices, and the mothers responded by increasing the volume of their conversation, as the decibel level of the children rose accordingly.

No chiding, no shushing, no dirty looks. No, "Sit down over here and stop pulling your sister's hair!" No grabbing things out of the children's hands and putting them back on the shelves where they belonged.

No nothin'.

A couple of minutes later, the more apparently fertile of the pair inquired as to whether the wait would be 20 minutes or not, as she could not decide if they should leave and come back, or just stay inside until there was time for the kids to get cuts.

All I really wanted to say, "Well, it'd be a lot quieter in here if you left."

But I didn't.

music update:

Theory Anesthetic.

Mandy not only heads up the group, but she's also my client, so you know her hair rocks.

Today, she gave me a copy of the new cd, but unfortunately all cd-playing devices in my household recognize it only as a blank disc.

At least you and I can listen to them here.

My fave is Church of Nothing.

thank the lord for small miracles...

It's about damned time, for criminy's sake!

"NOW AVAILABLE! Neuticles UltraPLUS with Epididymis

"Introducing a new level of testicular implantation for previously neutered, monorchid or cryptorchid pets.
"Neuticles UltraPLUS^® with ScarRetard features not only the testes but the Cauda Epididymis, Ductus Deferens, Pampiniform Plexus and Caput Epididymis, which restores the pet to anatomical preciseness (my emphasis). Two suture tabs located at the end of the Pampinform Plexus, and midway on the testes, anchor the implant to assure optimum realism.

"Eight sizes and custom sizing for any pet now available.

"Click Here for details and pricing."

And yes, I was actually aware of what the epididymus was prior to this: when irritated by moronic men, I used to graciously offer to show them their epididymii if they didn't stop bothering me.

Then I was generally forced to explain exactly what the epididymus was and where it was located, often in great, achingly explicit detail.

Which usually left me devoid of unwanted male companionship.

(I personally find it far more effective than threatening to tear off someone's limb and beat that someone to death with it.)

some things I believe...

1. Vera Bradley bags are hideously ugly.
   
   They look like those particular sort of carryalls in which old biddy spinsters cart their knitting around.
   
   
2. Evan Farmer is hot.
   
   
3. So is Colin Ferguson.
   
   
4. Sunbelle raspberries from Chile taste a lot better than Driscoll's from Mexico.
   
   
5. These are the fucking coolest flip-flops ever made. (They have the grommets on the inside like the shoes do, and they even have the ALL*STAR tag on the back heel. Righteous!)
   
   
6. My Black & Decker digital convection toaster oven is the shiz-nit.
   
   I love baking now that doing it it doesn't heat the entire apartment up to like 100-degrees Fahrenheit.
   
   
7. Anjou pears are infinitely superior to bartlett pears when making brie and pear toast. Bosc will also do in a pinch.
   
   
8. My job?
   
   Same ol' pettiness, whining and bitchiness, different salon.
   
   And yet, I still like it.
   
   
9. I got called Miss Martha today because I think the customer service person on the telephone couldn't pronounce my mom's not-particularly-difficult-to-pronounce Czech last name.
   
   I guess if you ax folx quessions fo' a livin', z pernounced as zh migh juss be a l'il tuff.
   
   
10. It's worth visiting two different nail places to get a super fantastic pedicure and an equally awesome set of nails done, if you can't get both at the same place.
    

fuzzy wuzzy scaley cute

Three thoughts:

1. It's amazing which side you root for, depending on what sort of documentary you're watching.

If it's one sort, you're rooting for the cute little Thompson's gazelles to escape the toothy maws of vicious predators.

And if it's another, you're desperately hoping that the inexperienced cheetah mother can catch thoses same wily gazelles, so that she can feed her seven hungry little fluff balls of kitteny cuteness.

You know, despite knowing that all seven could never successfully make it to adulthood.

But they're so damned cute.

2. Female green anacondas can shave as many as 100 days off of their pregnancy by basking in the sun.

If only that worked for everyone.

Sure, skin cancer would be at an all-time high, but maternity wardrobes would be cut in half.

3. And... I love love love Adrian, the Quiznos coyote.

In case you aren't aware, Tuesday, a coyote walked into a downtown Loop Quiznos through the propped-open front door, wandered around inside for a minute, then took a 40 minute siesta inside the open drink cooler, before being captured and hauled away by animal control.

Then Wednesday, after a night in the pokey, and with a clean bill of health, Adrian was released back into the wild.

If you can really call a wooded area in Barrington, Illinois, near a horse barn and two tennis court 'the wild.'

In depth info here:

http://cbs2.com/watercooler/watercooler_story_094024554.html

http://www.abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=local&id=5179979

http://www.abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=local&id=5184045

damned censors.

Clearblue has changed the voice-over on the commercial to now say the following:

"Clearblue Digital Pregnancy Test, the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever... *clears throat*...you know."

I am sorely disappointed.

Indeed.

the return of chemo sorbie gal. now, if only jesus man was to be found...

So, I said to C., "Hey, you want to cut my hair. Right? Right?"

And she said she would.

Then, I said to C., "I need like an inch cut off. Here, (holds up bangs) see the difference in length between there and the top? That's like how much I want off all over. And don't worry, it's almost impossible to make it too short. Oh, and I like my ears cut out. And make sure the neckline isn't all wispy because I hate that."

She took it all under advisement, and proceeded to give me the haircut I asked for, except it was still too long in back.

So she cut more back there.

And then she worked around the sides.

And then the top.

And the front.

And then around the crown some more.

Two thoughts on the haircut:

1. Wow, I didn't know my cowlick could stick out like that. I guess it's good that I have some really sticky-ass hair goo to hold it down.
2. I am now awaiting the inevitable comparisons to Annie Lennox in that one video -- not only because it's flaming red-orange, but mostly because it's almost that short.
   

my new job

...is going to take some time to settle in to position.

There hasn't been any effective leadership in the salon for over 6 months, so everything's gone to hell in a handbasket.

Paperwork hasn't been done properly since God only know's when, the place is filthy, and whoever's been doing the ordering is a nutjob.

We've got like 6 bottles of color remover (for wiping off excess color from the skin, post-coloring), two of which just came in yesterday, but we have less than half a bottle of cleaner, and got none in the order, because none were ordered.

I've been purging paperwork stuff from like 2001 - 2005, that easily could have been chucked in like 2002 - 2006.

And I've been going through overstocked products and have winnowed most of them down to the essentials.

I have so incredibly much more to do, though.

Months worth of more.

But that is another thing for another day.

On the cutting front, since I stopped working for Those Bastards (the new official name for the place I used to work before now), and started at Workplacery, I have had 8 clients come in to get their hair done -- 5 of them yesterday alone, and a few more on the books in the near future. I have also done a lot of other people, several of which seem inclined to return to me in the future.

And today I discovered that the produce selection at the Jewel a block away from Workplacery is a hell of a lot better than at the one by my house.

Plus, there may be no Starbucks or Caribou Coffee nearby, but I've got Avanti across the street, and Julius Meinl down the block. Both of which offer delicious beverages and reasonably-priced foodstuffs. Especially J.M.

maximum random-ocity.

01. I got the job for real -- Salon Team Leader, here we go! (I start Tuesday.)

02. I just found a way to get some cheaper prescriptive drugs now that I'm not heavily benefited through my old job. For like $40/3 months for two medications. Woot.

03. New email that made me laugh:

"Dear Amazon.com Customer,

"Based on your previous purchases in Women's Apparel, we thought you might be interested in slipping on a new pair of ballet flats. Shop over 350 styles from 80 top brands,including Charles David, Steve Madden, BCBGirls, Report, and more at Amazon.com."

Ironically, the only piece of apparel I have ever purchased from Amazon.com was a unisex pair of flannel black watch plaid pajama bottoms.

How that makes me an apparent ballet flat wearer, I'm not sure.

I in fact, I am the opposite of a ballet flat wearer -- I'm so damned short that most of my shoes have like a 2" heel on them, and I like a good cushy insole.

04. The chick they're trying to replace me with at the old job spent 40 minutes on the phone with me today, getting my perspective on about everyone and everything at the place.

And since I don't work there anymore, I was candid and frank.

And a little gossipy.

Who knows now if she'll take it -- she works at a different store as a stylist and seems very happy there, but they're pressuring her to take this position. I told her if worse comes to worse, she can always step down and go back to her old salon.

And I did warn her that I'll be actively recruiting most of the stylists over to my new job. Which she understands.

05. There are so many things wrong about the CD, "Sunday School Jamz!" that I just can't put my finger on all of them.

06. Best random spam I've received in a while:

"If you are ready to sell your soul to the Devil for just one erection, relax and get Viagra Pro for better results.

"Viagra Pro will give you more horse powers than there is in a good Porsche."

07. New favorite advertising campaign:

Clearblue Digital Pregnancy Test, "the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on."

08. I'm finding it extremely frustrating to try and track down all of the clients I didn't get numbers for before I left the Old Job. Especially when I only know a last name, and there's like 96 of them in the city (Wife-client has different last name than Husband-bill payer), or they're teenagers, and I don't know their parent's names.

09. I'm now a zombie girl. I modeled in exchange for t-shirts, and now am up on my friend Shawn's site.

10. Oh, and did I forget to mention that my new dress code allows me to wear pretty much whatever I want to work, as long as it isn't whorish or denim?

And that my new boss lady said I can wear skull-prints and Bettie Page t-shirts at will?

And that she mentioned that there's already a girl that works there that is all goth-ish 'n stuff, so she thinks that the skulls will fit right on in?

hallelujah

Well, the parties settled this morning, so I got sprung from jury duty, and then I had the phone interview afterwards with the person who decides whether or not I would be right for the job.

Acccord to her, if my references fly, I'm in.

And considering that my references already work for her, and they tried to recruit me a few weeks ago, I would imagine that they're going to have nice things to say. And then I'll have a job.

Yayme.

this week

Okay, so I quit my job on Friday without an exit strategy.

I've never left anything without an exit strategy -- at a concert, I've already got an escape route planned out -- and I am all discombobulated now.

Tuesday, I went in to collect the remainder of my things, and I was told that the person who had complained about me so many times had actually said to the acting store manager that, "I never intended to get anyone fired or make them quit their job."

Too little, too late, sister.

Let's see. If every single time someone says something you don't like, and you run to store management and complain about it enough, it will probably eventually have some sort of negative consequences for the person who has been the source of your complaint. I mean, honestly, what is the intent when you register a complaint?

Wednesday, I had an excellent interview with a company for a salon leadership position, and I am expecting to hear from the district manager on Friday, hopefully with the intent to start me on Monday or Tuesday. Because I rock.

And then today, I had my very first jury duty experience. Where I was, of course, immediately picked to be on the jury of a civil trial that will probably drag out until Wednesday or Thursday of next week.

Something happened to someone, and now that person is suing someone else because of the thing that happened.

Truthfully, I could give a shit either way when it comes to the case, which I cannot discuss with y'all. I'm fully intending to make a sincere attempt to stay awake the whole time, but will likely be mostly bitter and resentful because I am self-involved, and will be preoccupied by my unemployment and deplorable financial status, and how my jury duty is preventing me from the potential to start a new job.

Jeez, if I have 39 days of jury duty, I might actually be able to swing rent!

And I'm also forced to pay out of pocket for medical insurance, at least for the time being, because I need medical coverage. *sigh*

But for now, I will be chilling at the Daley Center from 9-5pm weekdays. Word.

the letter i just sent out to my clients:

An Important Message:

Hi,

Five hours ago, I got the news that I was being demoted from manager to stylist (with a 43% paycut) and sent to the Clybourn STORE/SALON for "unprofessional behavior, disruptive/inappropriate conduct, and for the use of profanity."
(Amongst my transgressions, I said, "If you didn't know me, and I shopped here, you'd totally think I was a bitch," while on the sales floor, to a manager, and in front of a sales associate. Yes, I am suitably ashamed.)

So, I gave them my resignation.

As of yet, I do not have a salon nailed down. It's weird being unemployed -- I've never left one job without having another one lined up.

I do have job prospects, so I will be gainfully employed somewhere wonderful by the time you need your hair done again.

Hope to see you soon,

pixie

new music

I heartily suggest that y'all go visit http://www.myspace.com/christypaige, because I know stuff that you don't*, and I definitely know that she's fantastic.

I saw/heard her busking on the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica while I was on vacation, and she rocked my world.

And if you're not a total pussy, she'll blow your socks off.

----------
*I told the GM that she was having a boy, and even after an ultrasound diagnosis to the contrary, I still insisted it was a boy.

4 ultrasounds later, they painted the nursery pink, decorated it with girly flowers and butterflies, and filled the closet with frilly pastel frippery.

They only registered for pink flowery girly stuff, and I believe they got everything on their registry.

Bibs, bottles, nuks, blankets, etc.

All super-duper girly.

And, their newborn son's name is Jack.

vacation, day one...

1. Slept until early afternoon.
   
2. Played with Posey for a while.
   
3. Got up.
4. Dressed.
5. Abluted slightly.
6. Ate sunflower seeds.
7. Watched Orange County.
8. Thought about going to the movies.
   
9. Watched Scrubs.
10. Took out the garbage.
11. Chased Cricket back into the apartment, and then petted her against her will.
    
12. Drank a gingerale with a twist of lime.
13. Watched The Stuart Davis Show, eps 6, 1 & 2, on You Tube.
14. Drank another gingerale.
15. Read email.
16. Watched eps 3, 4 & 5.
17. Purchased and downloaded 6 songs by Junkie XL from iTunes.
18. Nachos for dinner.
19. Random television viewing.
20. Adult Swim viewing.
21. More sunflower seeds.
22. More gingerale.
23. JunkBBS check-in.
24. Bedtime.

pennies from heaven

I am one of those people that always picks up change from the ground. Pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters, whatever. Any free money is good money to me, and it all spends the same.

One of my regular statements is, "Hey, free (coin)... mine!"

The other day, when I got the mail, I just threw it all in my bag.

Today, before work, I noticed all the envelopes in my bag and decided to read the mail.

A bill, an advertisement, and something that looked like a check.

Upon opening the envelope, I found a letter inside from Stoll Stoll Berne Lokting & Shlachter, informing me that the Class action lawsuit "Ruslan Razilov, et al. v. Nationwide, et al." had gone to settlement, and that my pro rata share of the settlement, less attorney fees, expenses, and the costs of claims administration, was attached to the letter in the form of a check made out to me.

A check for $207.24, mind you.

I get crap in the mail every once in a while, informing me that if I don't want to be part of some class action suit or another, I need to let them know, otherwise just do nothing and reap potential benefits later.

Until now, I've only gotten a coupon for free contact lens solution, a $15 voucher for Sears, and a Jabra earpiece for my cell phone.

Finally, my inaction really pays for itself.

Or at least pays for my NCA membership renewal, and a doctor's bill for blood work to definitively determine that I do not have a blood disorder or a disease, but instead am not only clumsy, but bruise very easily and very often. (It's not diabetes, anemia, or anything like that -- it's just that I'm just a delicate flower. Featuring easily-crushed petals and stems and leaves and other floral-y bits.)

And then after work today, I got a letter in the mail from America's Expo for Skin Care & Spa Chicago, asking me to fill out a brief survey and then return it to them in the provided, postage-paid enveloped.

A letter with a dollar bill tacked to the bottom of the letter, and a post-script stating, "The attached, while not intended as compensation for your time, is a small token of our appreciation for your prompt participation."

(Dude, that totally kicks the free nickel that came in the Unicef fundraising missive a couple of weeks ago's ass. Because, you know, maybe if Unicef didn't send out thousands of nickels to strangers, and instead used said nickels to pay for medicine and supplies for the displaced, disenfranchised, and the damned, they wouldn't need to ask me for my money.)