The Art of Decoding Words

Interesting.

In my nearly a year's worth of experience in the "cosmetology" world...I have learned quite a few things. Gained many different perspectives.

Interesting.

It's a great word, really. But when someone says it's towards you, it's never something you want to hear.

It's one of those totally awesome code words, y'know?

Code for:

"What the HELL are you freakin' THINKING? Have you been sniffin' to many perms?! Are the chemicals leaking through to your brain?!"

Yesterday, I stopped into the beauty store to pick up some hair color.

Pink.

For MY hair. ;-) Since I am bleached out COMPLETELY blonde now, I think it looks quite awesome, if I do say so myself.

In STREAKS.

Various places throughout my head.

In SMALL pieces.

Let's keep that in mind.

While I was picking up this color, I ran into a very good friend of mine from school, who is just a wee bit ditzy. Kinda like me...but perhaps a little more so.

Anyways.

We chatted for a few minutes and she asked what I was getting and I told her:

"PINK!!"

She just nodded and smiled.

I left and went on about my business...and fast forward to school today:

She: "Are you going to put that color in your hair that you bought yesterday?"

Me: "Yeah...tomorrow."

She: (pause)Well...that will be interesting." (this was said a little TOO brightly)

We just sort of sat there in silence for a few minutes. It was a little bit awkward, and I couldn't quite figure out why.

I looked around for a minute. She was still looking at me.

Crickets chirped.

And then...

It hit me.

Me: "Uh...I'm not putting it over my entire head."

She: "OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH...ok...that's better...I was wonderin' about that!"

...

Can you IMAGINE what she was thinking?! I mean we are talking PINK. Not baby pink. Not even Barbie pink.

HOT pink.

And hot MESS pink if it were to be an all-over hair color.

*raises eyebrow*

I would look like a Troll doll gone horribly wrong.

I guess I have to fully explain myself next time?

To be honest, I do so much with my hair, people probably never know what to expect. Someone I used to work with told me that every time he saw me my hair looked different.

However...point being:

Cosmetologists are very gentle with one another. Sort-of. We have ways to let each other know that we've maybe gone one step too far without ACTUALLY saying it.

Like when a girl was bleaching out one strip of her auburn hair to add bright red.

And another girl thought she was going to leave a random blonde streak in it.

Interesting.

Of course.

Actually it was:

"That will probably look good..." with a questionable look on her face like "Good Lord, I HOPE it looks good so I don't have to lie to this chick's face."

And, it does, of course...it always does. Pssh...how come other stylists don't have confidence in their own kind? ;-D

It Wasn't Me...WAS IT?!

So, as I sit here on this dreary Sunday morning, I was looking through the news.

And that’s when I saw it:

“COPS: Woman shoots boyfriend for not letting her sleep.”

And I was a-feered.

I mean, I was sleeping pretty deeply when I was FINALLY allowed sleep last night. I don’t really remember dreaming…could it possibly be?

Was it…
ME?

I mean, it sounds like me. How creepy is that. MY boyfriend wouldn’t let me sleep last night. And as I read the article, it was a total “OMG” moment:

Anding told police that she shot her boyfriend, “because he was bothering her and wouldn’t let her sleep,” according to a police report.

…

And, while common sense says:

“Hey, who the hell is ANDING, that’s SO not you.”

I don’t completely trust that I couldn’t have some sort of weird alter-ego. I mean, I’d hope I would be smart enough to use my other personality if I felt the need to, in fact, get rid of my boyfriend.

And to be completely honest…I felt the need last night.

So…I gave him a little call just to be sure that he was still, y’know…

Alive.

And he was.

But I *totally* feel this woman’s pain. The only difference between she and I last night was that she was in reaching distance to a shotgun.

And my father locks his away.

I kid, of course, I would never shoot someone. BUT, on the other hand, someone should never bother a woman when all she requests is sleep.

I sleep when I am stressed, and last night was testing the limits of my stress-ability.

“Please just let me lay down for THIRTY MINUTES and allow me time to de-stress.”

Each and every time, I would have JUST ENOUGH time to lay my head down on the pillow before my phone would commence to ringing, and more stress-age would ensue.

And the yelling, and the screaming would begin…

*sigh*

40 missed calls, 6 text messages, and 2 voicemails later…

I decided to give up, pick up the phone, and brave the stress-age.

Thank GOD for that little bit of humor that he makes sure is put in every situation (for without which, I just *might* pick the lock on the gun cabinet):

Me: “Why are you so freakin’ MAD at me?”

Him: “I’m not MAD, I’m just PISSED OFF!”

Me: “That’s WORSE!”

Him: “No…it’s not…”

Me: “At the very least they mean the same thing…”

Him: “No…they are completely different.”

Me: “Maybe you mean you are disappointed?”

Him: “Disappointed…pissed off…same thing.”

*insert sharply raised eyebrow right here*

And as MAD as I was…not pissed off, obviously as that means something COMPLETELY different…

I laughed. Inwardly. Very inwardly. EXTREMELY inwardly. So inwardly, in fact, I felt as if my brain was going to shoot out of my ears.

After all, I didn’t want to disappoint him again.

*giggle*

However, I said all of this to make my point:

Men…if your woman wants to sleep…by all means, let her SLEEP. Unless you want the police to find YOU sitting in your car with a shot up leg.

Which, of course, brings all sorts of questions to mind that I won’t delve into right now…

Such as:

“Why the hell did he just sit there, in his car, with a shot-up leg?”

…and that, my friends, is the food for thought that I will leave you with today.