I'm growing weary of this purgatory that I'm in. I wanna be in dirty Berlin already. I'm tired of not having a studio, and I'm also tired of being loosely tethered to 3 geographical locations at once. I want some motherfucking consistency. And a schwarma.
I want to start over, like in witness relocation programs. If I was placed in said program, I think I would get oversized acrylic nails and become a hairdresser named "Bronze".
In all honesty, I really enjoy cutting hair and have seriously considered pursuing this as an alternate career. But then again, the history and theory behind hair-cuttery as illuminated in Shear Genius really bores me, so maybe I'm just destined to be a savant. The Henri Rousseau of hairdressing.
*I tried to convince my mom to let me cut her hair today, but she thought (somewhat correctly) that I would butch her up.
My sister Andie showed me her workplace today, which is a really swanky country club. It made me recall the days when I worked at River Run Country Club (also in Charlotte) picking up fat white men's sweaty towels, cleaning fat white men's toilets, and sweeping fat white men's tennis courts. Those were not the best of times. But I did get free hot dogs from the snack bar, so you know, it probably evened out.