I kind of felt like a celebrity or at least a celebrity stylist because I was able to go to the retro house before the concert and style hair for c jane, her sister Lucy and the two cutest little ladies, Jane and Claire. Before the show started, the little ladies saw me and waved to me. The couple sitting behind me had to of course ask me how I knew them. Was I family, was I a famous blogger too? I informed them that I was their hairstylist. Not too shabby of a job. It's really hard being so close to celebrity and remembering to keep it real.
Showing posts with label I know hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I know hair. Show all posts
Monday, February 9, 2009
Nie Nie Concert
Last Monday my sister and I attended the benefit concert for Nie Nie. We were kind of slackers in getting our tickets, as in the day of, and there were limited options. To sit close to the stage instead of the balcony we forgo sitting together and opted for near each other. We could at least touch.
I kind of felt like a celebrity or at least a celebrity stylist because I was able to go to the retro house before the concert and style hair for c jane, her sister Lucy and the two cutest little ladies, Jane and Claire. Before the show started, the little ladies saw me and waved to me. The couple sitting behind me had to of course ask me how I knew them. Was I family, was I a famous blogger too? I informed them that I was their hairstylist. Not too shabby of a job. It's really hard being so close to celebrity and remembering to keep it real.
I kind of felt like a celebrity or at least a celebrity stylist because I was able to go to the retro house before the concert and style hair for c jane, her sister Lucy and the two cutest little ladies, Jane and Claire. Before the show started, the little ladies saw me and waved to me. The couple sitting behind me had to of course ask me how I knew them. Was I family, was I a famous blogger too? I informed them that I was their hairstylist. Not too shabby of a job. It's really hard being so close to celebrity and remembering to keep it real.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Final Countdown
The time is finally here. I am going to Spain in less than 2 days! Life has been insane the last month so time went by very quickly. Here's a rundown of my December:
- Salon, everybody needs holiday hair
- Christmas projects (Why did I volunteer to be the family historian?)
- Salon, more people need holiday hair
- Christmas celebrations/ avoiding sugar (yes, I still don't eat it)
- Salon, apparently everyone's hair is an emergency :)
- Snow, driving in it takes 8 years longer than usual
- Salon, I think I should have slept there because I practically lived there
I will try to post while I'm there, but don't count on it... :)
Monday, December 8, 2008
As Requested...
I have a request to expound on the teaser in the last post about not having long hair. Although this is a hard one to tell I will take one for the team, I may shed a few tears. So here's the history of why my hair never got caught in the rope swing while unwinding at the speed of sound is this:
At the tender age of 6 going on 7, circa year 1989, I had a desire to get my haircut. While on a trip to Colorado, my grandmother raved about the wonderful head massage she got while getting her hair done at the local salon. I apparently had already developed my propensity and love of massages while so young because I cried out with a plea to my mother, that I too wanted to get my hair cut and of course get a head massage. My request was granted and I was driven to the salon.
At this point in the story, my memory becomes hazy, perhaps is has something to do with trying to block traumatic, scary life experiences out. It's a defense mechanism. What I do remember is this, I got a hair cut but I never got the head massage only a spray down with the water bottle and somehow my request for a hair cut was interpreted to mean I wanted a hair cut like my grandma. I'm sure you are already imagining Relief Society hair/Roller set hair, and your imagination has served you well. I left that salon disappointed and confused on why I no longer had my luscious, dark curls.
This moment in time resulted in a 5 year drama of short, never cute hair because I didn't know how to do it or had never imagined such beauty as a flat iron. Don't worry I have school pictures to prove it. The battle was finally won in the sixth grade, which in my experience is not the best time to go through awkward stage in the grow out process. It's awkward enough on its own.
Before the hair was actually long I was mistaken for my sister's brother and other such gender guessing questions. Excuse me, for not having any determining feminine characteristics. The "girls" didn't come til later.
To answer a certain someone's question, I didn't have to worry about getting my hair caught in the swing because in my tender, elementary age years, I looked like:
Yes, this is Pat. I was Pat's long lost sibling complete with high waisted "dockers," button up shirt, glasses and of course the hair. It's true, I swear. I think telling my story has been cathartic and good for me, maybe now I can move on in my life... :)
At the tender age of 6 going on 7, circa year 1989, I had a desire to get my haircut. While on a trip to Colorado, my grandmother raved about the wonderful head massage she got while getting her hair done at the local salon. I apparently had already developed my propensity and love of massages while so young because I cried out with a plea to my mother, that I too wanted to get my hair cut and of course get a head massage. My request was granted and I was driven to the salon.
At this point in the story, my memory becomes hazy, perhaps is has something to do with trying to block traumatic, scary life experiences out. It's a defense mechanism. What I do remember is this, I got a hair cut but I never got the head massage only a spray down with the water bottle and somehow my request for a hair cut was interpreted to mean I wanted a hair cut like my grandma. I'm sure you are already imagining Relief Society hair/Roller set hair, and your imagination has served you well. I left that salon disappointed and confused on why I no longer had my luscious, dark curls.
This moment in time resulted in a 5 year drama of short, never cute hair because I didn't know how to do it or had never imagined such beauty as a flat iron. Don't worry I have school pictures to prove it. The battle was finally won in the sixth grade, which in my experience is not the best time to go through awkward stage in the grow out process. It's awkward enough on its own.
Before the hair was actually long I was mistaken for my sister's brother and other such gender guessing questions. Excuse me, for not having any determining feminine characteristics. The "girls" didn't come til later.
To answer a certain someone's question, I didn't have to worry about getting my hair caught in the swing because in my tender, elementary age years, I looked like:
Yes, this is Pat. I was Pat's long lost sibling complete with high waisted "dockers," button up shirt, glasses and of course the hair. It's true, I swear. I think telling my story has been cathartic and good for me, maybe now I can move on in my life... :)
Thursday, October 16, 2008
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