Yeah, Im still alive.
Writing little sentences about the world and what for.? Like it makes me a better person and cool to notice little things. Something simple is so much bigger than my complicated life. The little old man sitting outside the salon who was feeding the pigeons, nobody noticed his smile and me at the desk watching him with the boss thinking Im nuts. That brings me to the speech delivered to me by said boss who knows all about being shy because he was too when he first started and you know, Ive heard it all before. Telling me makes me want to do the exact opposite because Im into rebellion and all of that. The hot boy who cut my hair was around the other day and even though I smile at him, he doesnt even speak to me and that tells me boys are stupid and silly and Im at the wrong Biba. Theres a new one.
Teaching hairdressing is a challenge, but its nice to think Im helping someone and all I want to do is cut hair, really. Im at Lygon Street Biba until further notice and Paul is there on a Saturday having half hour arguments on the phone to the last Biba I was at. Its all make money and sell products, promote colour and talk more Nicole fuck off. And the point of this paragraph is come and get a hair cut.
People give me the shits. Especially when youre trying to get somewhere. When I went to uni I moved out and expected it to be great. Just like a movie - cool like an apartment in New York and public transport and romance and coffee shops - reality is never the same and really, thats what you get when youre still young. Dreams. Theres a reason we have movies. Working across the road from a University, you can tell the first years - all wide eyed and pimple pitted faces. There are groups of twenty-something vigilantes posting up posters like they can make a difference and in our day and age itd be best to just give up and worry about yourself and paying off the fifty grand you owe on a useless Bachelor of Arts. Dreadlocks are a staple uniform lets start a web site named up yours Howard dot com and wear buttons with cool slogans.
Ive been off doing hair at the Commonwealth Games for the opening ceremony - which was the other night - we did all the girls who were holding the names of the countries and we'll be doing the same for the closing. Making us sign paper after paper and we couldnt go a certain way because we didnt have a green sticker on our passes. Its all quite a slick operation and full of shit really. At least we get free public transport until the end of the month and we dont need a sticker for that. We also got free tickets to the OC - really good seats too - the queen was an inch high and the athletes walked out below us.
Work has been draining lately. Too many orders, too many hair cuts - not enough sleep. Earning lots of money so I can fuck off to San Diego to cut hair with Aspasia. I want to go to the zoo, really. And in an plane and stuff.
Ill get around to it.
Keep it real, yo.
Writing little sentences about the world and what for.? Like it makes me a better person and cool to notice little things. Something simple is so much bigger than my complicated life. The little old man sitting outside the salon who was feeding the pigeons, nobody noticed his smile and me at the desk watching him with the boss thinking Im nuts. That brings me to the speech delivered to me by said boss who knows all about being shy because he was too when he first started and you know, Ive heard it all before. Telling me makes me want to do the exact opposite because Im into rebellion and all of that. The hot boy who cut my hair was around the other day and even though I smile at him, he doesnt even speak to me and that tells me boys are stupid and silly and Im at the wrong Biba. Theres a new one.
Teaching hairdressing is a challenge, but its nice to think Im helping someone and all I want to do is cut hair, really. Im at Lygon Street Biba until further notice and Paul is there on a Saturday having half hour arguments on the phone to the last Biba I was at. Its all make money and sell products, promote colour and talk more Nicole fuck off. And the point of this paragraph is come and get a hair cut.
People give me the shits. Especially when youre trying to get somewhere. When I went to uni I moved out and expected it to be great. Just like a movie - cool like an apartment in New York and public transport and romance and coffee shops - reality is never the same and really, thats what you get when youre still young. Dreams. Theres a reason we have movies. Working across the road from a University, you can tell the first years - all wide eyed and pimple pitted faces. There are groups of twenty-something vigilantes posting up posters like they can make a difference and in our day and age itd be best to just give up and worry about yourself and paying off the fifty grand you owe on a useless Bachelor of Arts. Dreadlocks are a staple uniform lets start a web site named up yours Howard dot com and wear buttons with cool slogans.
Ive been off doing hair at the Commonwealth Games for the opening ceremony - which was the other night - we did all the girls who were holding the names of the countries and we'll be doing the same for the closing. Making us sign paper after paper and we couldnt go a certain way because we didnt have a green sticker on our passes. Its all quite a slick operation and full of shit really. At least we get free public transport until the end of the month and we dont need a sticker for that. We also got free tickets to the OC - really good seats too - the queen was an inch high and the athletes walked out below us.
Work has been draining lately. Too many orders, too many hair cuts - not enough sleep. Earning lots of money so I can fuck off to San Diego to cut hair with Aspasia. I want to go to the zoo, really. And in an plane and stuff.
Ill get around to it.
Keep it real, yo.