The humbling passage of time

Its 730. I woke up at 5, its already been two and a half hours that I have been lying in bed, with an eye mask on, waiting for the red wine hammer to wear off. Where has the time gone? I just read my last blog entry, it was one year and one month ago, almost to the day. Its still incredibly windy in February and March, and crappy. Where has the time gone? I started this blog in 2004, its 2010. Seriously folks, WHERE HAS THE TIME GONE?
And you ask yourselves, what have I been DOING? What do I have to show for this TIME thats GONE? Have I learned how to knit? How about throw a decent pot? Speak Farsi? Tie complicated sailing inspired knots? Maybe turn wood on a lathe? No. Havent done any of that. Of late, I have done a tremendous amount of hair, which is both fun and profitable, so thats good. Ive planned our wedding, which is definitely not profitable but will hopefully turn out to be fun. But really, what is taking up that extra time that I feel I should be spending doing something that people can talk about wistfully at my funeral.
One particular thing does spring to mind. Here we go; All grown ups talk about how they dont have time to see their friends anymore. No matter how close you live or how much you love these individuals, you just dont seem to be able to spend the kind of QT together that you would like to, or in fact that you used to be able to.
And what is it that is taking up that time? When we were young, we had school, sports (hypothetically,) afterschool classes, we slept more, yet we had time to make ENDLESS phone calls and hang out with friends constantly. What is the time sump? Work? No. Drinking? No. Cant do much of that anymore. Facebook? Maybe partially, but there is some mysterious bermuda triangle of time thats sucked away from socializing and keeping up the beloved bonds of friendship and Im going to tell you what it is.
Dental Hygiene.
As you get older, you have to spend so much (excuse my french) fucking time brushing your teeth and maintaining even semi-healthy gums, that you dont have time to call your friends. Wondering why you and sally arent close anymore? Buy a water pik recently? Cant seem to make it to after work drinks or weeknight dinner parties? Have you switched to a natural non flouridated toothpaste in the last couple years? Found yourself adding a couple extra tricks to your morning and evening mouth maintenance routine?
I HAVE! For gods sake. I spend more goddamn time brushing my teeth these days than even last year I would have thought humanly possible. Between my new holistic dentist, who has me on the watchful prowl for spirochetes below the gumline (which can apparently cause any and EVERY thing, from gingivitis to heart disease, Google it) to frighteningly visible gum recession and panicking about mercury based fillings, Ive got my hands full! Its a freaking time sump!
Now, twice a day, I have to first floss, then irrigate my periodontal pockets (which were registering unacceptably high numbers,) then I brush with this herbal powder that looks like youre scrubbing your mouth out with henna and coffee grounds, followed by an herbal rinse for a 30 second count. All this to eradicate the bacteria that you (and I do mean YOU) probably have comfortably multiplying below your gumline. THere are three phases of different powders and accompanying rinses, each phase is two weeks, then you start again, until all are used up. And its a lot to use up. And your breath smells like wood.
These may be good habits, but theyre not something youll be remembered for.
Im telling you. Getting older and trying not to fall apart from the teeth down is a full time job. Disconnect your phone and start brushing (gently, and at the right angle.)

Is there anything more depressing than birch veneer?

I tried to go buy a desk today, from a nice korean young man who was selling it on craigslist. I need it to fit in a certain space, so it has to be small enough but big enough for my laptop and a remote keyboard. He had a darling junior size rolltop desk which I loved but was too shallow to open the laptop on and be able to tilt it back all the way. It also had a pullout shelf but not in front where a keyboard would be, but on the side above the drawers. Basically it was a lovely desk where one could dip ones quill in ink and pen a love letter by candle light. Or sit down and write checks, stuff envelopes, or draw even! Very humane. Unfortunately, we dont DO any of those things anymore. Desks arent FOR writing anymore. Who draws? Who needs checks when you have direct deposit and automatic bill payer? So I couldnt buy the adorable, walnut mini roll top desk because I couldnt use it for my sterile antiromantic, robotic life. So, in direct contrast to the nice man's lovely apartment and warm pencil worn desk, we went to Ikea, which is Swedish for birch veneer. Instead of showing the items and merchandising them so that you can see something, like it, and purchase it, they set up all these fake rooms, of all parts of a house so that you can see how you should put the one item that you might need together with a bunch of other items that you dont and make your house look cheap and European. Hurray. But they dont look like rooms, theyre like a childs fake smile on picture day; the teeth are bared, the lips are curled away but there is no mirth, no humor, no smile in the eyes. Just the reflection of the flash and a regrettable outfit. So, all the desks are ugly, all of them. And they are made out of pressboard, which is like wood dandruff glued together with formaldehyde. But, theyve got "clean lines!" And theyre all available in the ever popular Birch Veneer. THere is something about a strip of that wood grain, blond colored plastic, cracking, or peeling away, to reveal that weird compressed glue texture underneath that is totally devastating. So depressing. Like, see? Did you convince yourself this was wood? Ha! Wood Dandruff!! So I bought it in shiny white. Its hideous. It is, but at least it knows it is, and looks like the crap that it is. Not masquerading as poor old besotted birch, which no one outside of adirondack country really makes furniture out of anyway, which is probaby why its still extant, and insulted by Ikea.
I havent put it together yet. Should be rich.

गो वेयर थे विंड तकेस यू!

Ugh. I havent written forever. Its February. It should be January, because January didnt last long enough. Its windy as hell, and if hell is truly made up of the worst elements of earth than it should be very, very windy. Wind is by far the worst weather element. Dangerous, scary sounding, phenomenally uncomfortable, can be present at any temp and time of year, invisible AND frightening looking, and totally incomprehensible at a physical level to the average thinker. I mean...where does it start? whats blowing for gods sakes?
Par example, According to Wikipedia the forces which drive wind are as follows;

Forces which drive wind or affect it are the pressure gradient force, the Coriolis force, buoyancy forces, and friction forces. When a difference in pressure exists between two adjacent air masses, the air tends to flow from the region of high pressure to the region of low pressure. On a rotating planet, flows will be acted upon by the Coriolis force, in regions sufficiently far from the equator and sufficiently high above the surface.

Did that clear it up for any of you? Ok great.

Until recently I took wind for granted, and didnt really think about it all that much. I dont even remember it ever being really windy in seattle. In NY the wind sounds like a racing furious screaming animal. See how hard i tried not to say howling? But the truth is, the muthafucka howls! Theres no other way to put it! It races down our narrow street with tall houses and buildings on each side and throws garbage cans down driveways and into the paths of cars, tears huge tree branches down and hurls them through windshields. Our windows rattle and our blinds blow back even with the windows "closed." Or whole house sways on the foundation every couple months when the ol windster really gets furious. If you heard something like that, you would expect to look outside and see a giant slobbering wolf, destroying everything in its path, but you look out and theres....nothing???? And you are supposed to just go out there?? Where is the enemy??? And you dont get a wind day! There are snow days and flood days but you have to go outside and battle the invisible wolf!

I was on the West Coast most of January. It was really nice to be out of here for a while, even if just in Seattle and LA. Ben and I spent New Years in seattle, had enchiladas and sangria with the Steels et al, by midnight we were falling asleep watching fireworks on the needle. It was very relaxing and mellow with no stupid best night of your life pressure. We also got to be at moms house for the New Years Day party which was very fun. I havent been there for it for years and I love it. Ben got to meet all my moms friends most of whom have known me since I was born or shortly after. We ate chinese food and watched spinal tap with court, we went to the dahlia with becca and eric, who came out in the SNOW, (which while nowhere near as scary as wind really puts the fear of god into seattleites.) It was a lovely trip. Then I went to LA, spent a nice week with the family. AS soon as I get into LAX, I always go to the rental car place, rent my car for the week, and head to Malibu. This time I rented from Supercheapcarrental.com which is AMAZING. $200 dollars for a week incl insurance. A dream come true. I headed up to Malibu, which is a beautiful drive, to see Nana. We visited and bummed around the house. The Santa Ana WINDS were blowing so there were huge palm fronds blowing off the trees and laying like blown out steel belt radials in the streets. Nana informed me that they can really lay you out if they hit you the wrong way. Common sense, but nice to have the confirmation. We stayed inside til dinner, then we made our way to the Sage room which is the PCH equivalent of two blocks from her "mobile home." At the first stop sign, I stopped, eyed a cardboard box blowing in the WIND and waited for it to lay on the ground. WHen it was flat as a pancake and still I pulled forward. It waited for me to pull through the intersection, then the WIND raised it up and slammed it with brute force into the windsheild directly in front of Nana making a large fist shaped circular crack and depression in the glass. So much for supercheapcarrental. We headed on to dinner, which was lovely and uneventful, unless seeing Julia Roberts waiting for a table is considered an event. Its all in your perspective.

Our debaucherous night over, we went home to Fritz and talked and ate ice cream until ten when we couldnt think of any better thing to do than go to bed.
At 8, we got up and read the paper, ate grapefruit, talked about rising crime and the failed economy, gave nana a haircut, and went to have lunch before I headed down to LA proper. We went to Geoffreys which is a classic Malibu hang out. It has a parkinglot which is the size of my apartment and telegraph steep with several million dollars of cars parked in it, I was releived to hand the valet the keys to the sentra.
They sat us in the outside area which was closed off due to the WIND. The only other people out there was an elderly couple at the table next to us. SHe looked much younger than him at a distance but had invested far more in plastics so there was really no telling. Half way through lunch he starts yelling loudly and in a strange monotone way "NO NONONON NO!" and other things from which I understood that she hadnt brought the medicines that she should ALWAYS have on her. I turned around and the man was the color of white clay. I swear to you I thought he was going to die right there. THe waitstaff started rushing around, trying to elevate his feet and such things, he was staring out over the deck to the sea looking very last breath-ish.
I turned back around to see that Nana was looking a little blue herself and seemed to be choking! I asked several times if she was really choking and she nodded vehemently (didnt use the international sign for choking which is posted in every restaurant, come on Nana, make it easy on me!)Not knowing what else to do, as the Paramedics rushed in with oxygen and a stretcher for the gentleman on table 2 I got up and summoned all that I learned in that weird beauty school first aid class and gave Nana the heimlich. I did. I dont know if that dislodged the lobster, but it did dislodge. THank god They wheeled the man out and we finished our lunch, I did anyway, I think Nana was a little too nervous to give it another try. Cant blame her, and I may never eat lobster again. Didnt really love it in the first place...

Anyway, that was the bulk of the LA excitement. Had a good time with everyone, a lovely visit with bubba, and lots of QT with Joanna. I left on thurs and worked the weekend at the salon, then flew back to LA on Sunday night for a macys shoot through friday. That was a bit crazeball, but it was worth doing, thanks to Mollie lending me her car, it was easy and cost effective way to spend a little extra time with the fam. Not a LOT mind you since we had 5:30 call times and were working til sundown which is around six. Man, there were a couple really not fun days shooting in the rain with no mobile home on the beach (ever had good hair on the beach when it was raining? No? how about your makeup? how did that look? Messy? was anyone blowing giant bubbles made from dawn dishwashing detergent at you for that hippy bo-ho look? I thought not. ) Brutal. Artistic integrity definitely compromised. But, it passed as everything does. Now Im back, working, going to therapy, trying to "figure myself out." Its good. Not always fun, but good. Im hoping that this process will enable me to make more of myself, take the things I love doing and do them consistently, be a better partner, a better individual and peice of the whole. Allow me to stop laying in bed with a mouth full of jujubes and reading betty and veronica comics for days on end.
You know how it is.

Upstate, downstate.

I am vacationing Upstate. When I say that, you automatically know where I am. Because no other state in the union refers to their geography in terms of up and down. If you lived in Vancouver WA and were planning a holiday in, say Cle Ellum, you would never say 'Bill and I are going upstate for the summer, its so much cooler!" Even though it is both Up and cooler, it just isnt done. Our colleges have names like University of Washington Or Puget Sound University, UW Upstate or WA University Downstate. I dont know why NY abandons commonly known terminology like North and South in favor of baby language, but I suspect its the lack of relativism. I.e. there is only Up and down because nothing outside of NY exists, so there is no need to describe it in terms that would elucidate the layout of the state for someone who doesnt live at some degree of Up or Down. I mean, what is up to someone who lives in Colorado? Albany? Plattsburgh? Poughkeepsie? Yonkers? Coxsackie? Is it all up? Is some further down? Correct answer? WHO CARES ABOUT PEOPLE FROM COLORADO?
Its the same with the City (which in and of itself denotes a lack of relativism since there are MANY cities, and one city should not be able to call itself THE city, its unspecific and unfair and yet...) if you're in WIndsor CT or Bangor MA, Is 79th and Third Uptown? It is not.

And, everyone vacations. Its interesting, I dont remember people who weren't teachers or students, having summers off to Hampton or Upstate themselves. Everyone goes to the same places too, its all the Hamptpns or Fire Island. By 2015 the Catskills will be seasonally completely inhabited by Park Slope, since they're too "brooklyn" to go to the Hamptons, (dont want to encounter their old neighbors from the Upper East or West Side who think they're crazy for buying in an outer borough and wont let their kids play together anymore for fear of gang influence,) and cant keep their 2.6 kids who've never heard the word "no," in the car long enough to get to the Adirondacks. August is NYC's best month, if the amount of people disbursed throughout the state and city were to stay that way throughout the year, it would be getting voted Americas most livable city. Of course it would be interesting to see the heart of the financial system try to eek out a living relocated to Lake Placid but, theyre clever. They could figure it out.

So, I am in the tiny "town" of Onchiota (definition of town, bunch of houses and a place to buy firewood) just north of Saranac Lake and about two hours south of Montreal. We rented a great house with a view of a lake, totally rustic decor, a grill and firepit and a kitchen with a dishwasher. Ahh convenience. Its lovely. Another plus is that the Olympics are going on and since we are so close to Canada, we get to watch the Canadian coverage which is SO much better and less annoying than the US coverage. First of all, it covers all the athletes not just the celebrity ones and not just the American ones. The american coverage doesnt even focus on the person winning gold, just whoever is most famous and in camera shot. Secondly, the announcers (while they may sound a little Gay) dont revel in every deduction and every misstep. In fact they often dont say too much until the end when the excercise is finished and they assess what they think was good and bad about it and where they hope he/she will place. They also dont insert whispered and nonsequitous comments about the athlete's past or family such as (hushed tones) "Yee Kuan's grand parents are mountain rice farmers and he spent summers farming in the paddys until he was seve...oooh, his back was arched there, thats gonna cost him!" Ugh! It is so annoying! It makes you think " and what do YOU do?? Mr announcer man? whens the last time you executed a triple flip in the air, kept your toes perfectly pointed and didnt make a splash entering the water??? Shut up!

Yesterday Bens mom and I went shopping in Lake Placid because it was overcast and had rained so hard the night before that all the trails would be mudslides waiting to happen. Lake placid absolultely sucks, unless youre looking for mood rings and lake placid sweatshirts, but they have the only movie theatre in the area and we got a hot tip about a sale due to boutique owners going through a nasty divorce and I picked up a couple of those stupid pairs of jeans with altruistic sounding brand names that everyone in the City wears and pays $200+ for a song. Breaking up is hard to do. We grilled delicious shrimp, zucchini, peppers and corn (which I prepared like Elote, that cuban style corn on the cob that gives mayo its only reason to exist outside of egg salad.) As an aside, going Upstate can refer to either a vacation or a prison sentence. Those are the two industries north of Albany. Good times. The people up here have lots of extended driveway/yard projects going on. And there is more than one house on our "street" with a big rig pulled up to the side. Its owner operator country.


All in all we arent doing much up here and I didnt even bring my scissors, no hair for a whole week. I dont know when that has happened in the last three years. It feels great. Ben and his mom both sleep in endlessly. I am so used to getting up for golden girls that nine o clock feels like noon. Im officially old because I brought my own breakfast cereal and eat it even though I have endless time to make eggs or toast or eat pie. No, I couldnt even risk my cereal type not being available, I had to bring it with. its only a matter of time til i bring my own tea and a week-by-day vitamin dispenser. And I bought a mouth guard. What?

I have been working A LOT over the summer...let see, i guess the last time I wrote was right before I left for Florida. Good lord I hated the place we shot in Florida. Seaside. Its where they filmed The Truman Show and its some kind of white seperatist encampment. It looked like the place was bought as a set at pottery barn and assembled onsite. All the houses have names like Yachts do, and you can shop and eat at the restaurants barefoot. I have pictures. It was creepy as hell. I felt like the only thing missing from the town square (there was a town square) was a gallows. I had a good time with the crew, since we all knew each other from Cabo, but it was the last shoot we did for them since they are SCRABBLING to save the brand and have taken on all new management who bring on all their people and decide that different is better. Ah well, one door closes and another one opens.
There has been plenty of Macy*s, which has actually been fun. The galumphing Art director was actually on set herself so we could get away with a lot more since it wasnt just people afraid of what she would say making the decisions.

I assisted a woman who I havent worked with in a while on a mind numbingly boring Verizon stock photo shoot, the photographer was great but they were getting the "hispanic family with blackberry" "black man with young child and PDA" shots and everyone is to look really natural, like they did their own hair, etc. I did get to go to a really nice studio at chelsea piers where I had never been before. Its where they shoot all the Vickis secret ads.

I assisted a couple of new folks on a somewhat annoying Missy Elliot for Adidas photo shoot. She did a call for teen spokespeople for her Respect ME campaign so our job was to do the hair and makeup for the ten winners of the contest who had been flown in from all over the world for the shoot. The first day we got there at 1145 and were told that we should go and come back at four. Apparantly Missy has social anxiety so we were kept on a seperate floor in the red bull offices. THe closest we got to seeing her was her dogs, which were small, yippy and shut in an office wearing diapers. Eew.
We came back at four, the girls came in at five and we had 20 minutes to get them all ready for some candid shots with Missy. Thats five mins per girl, and they are teenage non models. Ok. We hardly did anything and then couldnt be on set so were dismissed. I made 350 to work for 20 mins. What a weird industry. THe next day was a real shoot, and the girls had so much fun. It was all their first time doing anything like this so it was their fifteen minutes and they loved us. The people I was assisting both really liked me. It was the first time I had ever worked with a straight male stylist on set. He's this really deeply tanned and buff know it all Aussie surfer guy whose hair skills are greatly out weighed by his ability to make the women want him. Hilarious. But he was fun to work with and has an-all fun-all-the-time-attitude which is much appreciated on set. Except by the makeup artist who was this tiny, somewhat older, goth woman who actually wanted some guidance and organization from the producer and creative team as to what they wanted the girls to look like. His "no worries, we'll make it happen, its all good!" commentary was not helping her nail down whether they wanted a teen look, a model look, a natural look etc. That was somewhat funny to watch, though frustrating for both of them Im sure. :)

Im gonna go finish my tea and enjoy the fresh, upstate weather. Bye!

Bums Say the Darndest Things!

Thats my genius idea for a new Bill Cosby or, in a pinch, Bob Saget, video clip show. The premise is as follows. Ive noticed a trend that those in the very most destitute of circumstances seem free to provide the commentary that none of us, hampered by manners and pesky social constraints are able to offer. Several of my friends and clients were talking and started sharing the outrageous and ego slashing comments that had come from the fetid and foul mouths of our friends on the lower rungs.
Firstly, the reubenesque receptionist at the salon was shopping at her local Sheepshead Bay grocery store. A familiar homeless person who has set up shop in the parking lot of said grocery offered, for a sum, to assist her loading her items into the car. She politely declined, as her boyfriend was well able to load them himself. At which time the bum offered this sage and unsolicited advice "You should try Jenny Craig." Heya! Thanks!! Maybe I will! You should try bathing! Or perhaps pulling down your pants when you relieve yourself! The same generous suggestion was offered to the voluptuous date of a friend of mine, on their first night out together sending her into a paroxysm of insecurity and basically insuring that their first date be the last. Maybe bums should be the next Jenny Craig spokesperson as soon as the shock of Queen Latifah being a 8 instead of a 12 (gasp!) wears off. Picture it: set in the parking lot a portly housewife ambles to her SUV weighted down with bags of cereal straws (oh I saw the ads, "dip, sip, munch!" that didnt get by me!) and pringles and a bum, a la Nick Nolte in Down and Out in Beverly Hills, pops out from behind the car and in a raw and cigarette rough voice says "Have you called Jenny yet?" Then all the slender bums doling out much needed weightloss tips can be integrated into the jenny craig street team, jobs for the jobless and we can all keep hearing the truth about our fat asses when we least expect it!

Story number two:
A client and friend, with a closely cropped but undeniably curly coif, overheard our story exchange from the chair next to mine, and offered this gem. He was coming out of the subway in chelsea, making his way around the resident homless gentleman who resides next to the village voice dispenser on the corner when the man commented "Nice jewfro you fucking white wigger!" He looked down to see our transient advisor smearing a rotten banana all over his face! Ok great! So do you think I should blow dry, sir? Or would a relaxer be a better option? Can I help you with your banana?

Thirdly, and perhaps my favorite, is my sister's tale of Supermarket parking lot woe. It was several years ago, but quite importantly after losing nearly fifty pounds on weight watchers. She was leaving QFC in the University village and walked by a homeless man who had set up shop in the lot so as never to stray more than a few yards from the adjacent liquor store. A few steps past the inebriated and besotted fellow he cried out "Fat AND Uuuugly!" She looked around in horror only to see that he must indeed have been referring to her. She said is was like he could see through her thinness into her all too recently fat past. I mean, bums say the darndest things! Are these people really in a position to deride us on, of all things, our appearances? Im not saying that we have higher moral or intellectual abilities than those who are affected by housing instability or perhaps drug and alchohol problems, certainly not, but i think if you havent showered since the watergate scandal perhaps you can keep your appearance commentary to yourself. Anyway, thank god they dont because every time I think about " Fat AND UUUUgly!" I too could pee my pants. Strangely none of them has ever said anything to me....I suppose its a matter of time.
Cant you just see the show cutting back to Bill Cosby's hilarious pursed lip face after showing one of those irreverent and quirky clips? It may be a strictly late nite show but i think it could go places.

Made of silver, not of clay...

Its been too long, and yet, what to do when inspiration simply doesnt strike? Where to turn? Ive tried reading fiction, books on writing, considered taking a memoir writing workshop. Nothin. Even Im tired of go, be, do. But you cant write without an idea!! Everything is going well, Park Slope isnt funny or even interesting, Where to turn indeed. AHA! Where else but to those men, specifically that man who has been inspiring me, in hair, love, and the lessons of life since the days when MTV was merely a sparkle in some geeks eye...Journey. Steve Perry was my first "celebrity crush." Since that time hes with me almost everytime I clean my room, whenever there is painting or grouting to be done (dont laugh! Ive laid grout!) and whenever I think to myself "where to go next with my hair?" Steve Perry and I have exactly the same hair type. Ive had almost all his haircuts (thanks Becca) save the severe mullet of later years. Which could be to come. And though Ive never been able to wear pants that high waisted, its not because I didnt want to. Thank god for youtube



Come on, that is pretty incredible. A few minutes of watching those four men, man enough to wear their favorite items at multiple shows, man enough to have bangs and mutton chops simultaneously, man enough to know a leather jacket doesn't need a shirt underneath, and Im back in business. I still dont have much to say, but Im not sure they did either...and theyre inspirational as hell. ever tried to figure out what their songs are about? BTW points for anyone who can tell me where the title for this blog comes from. Point being, if you are saying crazy meaningless shit with tremendous style and talent, people will still love listening. Especially if you have an amazing guitarist....I need to work on that.
So, I went to this NACA homebuyer workshoppe yesterday. They didnt spell it like that but i love exxxtra letterrs. It was great. It was in Bushwick, in an old synagogue turned church, telling of the neighborhood's transition from Jew to Jamaica. The place looked like a needle exchange from the outside. THere are places in the outer boroughs that are so ugly and depressing you just cant believe they still exist. Dont stop believing, they do. So we went through the rusted iron gates, rang the unmarked buzzer on the door with a deflated blue balloon which still exclaimed "Its a boy!" and got no response. Could it be through the iron door with no handle on the right? It looks like a mop closet? Lets try the door. Sure enough, inside was a large room with low ceilings, wood floors and impossibly out of scale crystal ceiling fixtures full of other people wondering how they can imagine their way to home ownership.

I waited in line, Ben went to get a bagel at dunkin' fuckin' donuts. And water for me, thanks Ben:) We took our seats in the front row and waited about 45 mins for them to get started. After a prayer from an elder of the church in a soft and endearing Carribbean accent the NACA employee who looked like an overweight Tracy Morgan took us through the ins and outs, benefits and pitfalls of mortgages both through NACA and "in the outside world." By the outside world he referred to the predatory lending practices that so many banks and mortgage companies use in low income communities.
It was a very good presentation, he was quite knowledgeable. At the end when people started asking all the quesitons he had already answered, we left. It was inspirational. Not so much as Journey, but I did feel like I wont be pay rent to a feudal lord sooner rather than later. Questions?? www.naca.com THey have them in most states, but not WA or OR yet. Its a great program and provides a great service to people like me who not only dont have all the cash for down payments lawyers and closing costs but who are so undereducated about the process that Ill either ignore it and rent for life, or get taken advantage of by predatory lenders. Im in step two now, becoming NACA qualified. Ill let you know how it goes.

Had a great time in Seattle and LA despite absolute CRAP weather. It poured the whole time. Even in LA. But good times with friends and family were had. We went to Portland for a couple days to see what was really going on and if I should keep dreaming about moving there when I decide my parachute is not NY colored. It was alright. Kinda dreary and strip mally. I dont think I saw the right places. We looked at some houses, nothing was too captivating. It did, however, make me stop taking my Brooklyn nest for granted. Even if I do end up on the west coast eventually, Im here now. I just need to be here now. You happy Ram Dass? You were right. You know, just live where I live and invest in it even if it isnt FOREVER. Its got a lot going for it. I can actually live here more cheaply than in Seattle cause I dont need a car. And I have a pretty sweet rental deal. So here I am for the forseeable future. Mom, Dad? wanna move to NY?

p.s. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqyIpwhXXrk&feature=related

Go, Be, Do.

Have you heard that phrase used? Man. I'm just hearing it now really, its asinine. Go, Be, Do... as in Stylist; "Is this about the pant?" Nanny creative director; "This one is totally editorial, we aren't selling anything so Go, Be, Do!" like we don't have to make that sweater look good so finally you can do whatever your heart desires with the hair! Ive heard it used offset too and it just rubs me the wrong way. Its like quoting an inspirational mug.

Its impossible for me to be on time to the salon on Sundays if I take the bus cause the schedule changes and it either drops me off 20 mins before anyone gets there to open the door or ten mins after we open. I can take the train but I have to walk a few long blocks and when its really cold that sucks. For that reason, and because he took pity on me on my 11th straight day of work, Ben took me to the salon yesterday. And its a good thing he did, because we were privy to a very interesting slice of the Brooklyn pie on our way. Its very hard to find parking in our hood, so we were walkin the couple blocks to his car when I noticed a crowd of people holding signs up ahead. As we got closer it looked like they were all Orthodox Jews! Which makes everything so much weirder and more entertaining. I was ecstatic, protesting Hasids on our block; pretty much the best day ever. They were chanting something unintelligible but to get on the right street we were going to have to drive through the crowd. Sure enough, they were all orthodox (or Hasidim I'm not exactly sure which) chanting "Shlomo Blumenkrantz Shame on YOU! Shlomo Blumenkrantz Shame on YOU!" and holding signs that read "Shlomo Blumenkrantz stop abusing halakha." Which Ben thought was his wife, but I informed him was Jewish law. Thanks Prof Jaffee. So they re all on one side of the street and there are a couple of private rent a cop types on the other. I asked one of the security tools what this was about, he said "they re protesting." No shit Sherlock, what are they protesting? "This guy." He said and motioned towards the large house across the street. What did he do? 'You gonna havta aks dem!" I turned and looked at the angry bewigged and bespectacled mob, was suddenly overcome with guilt for driving on shabbos (i forgot Shabbos was over on sunday, even worse) and decided id better get to work. Luckily, Ben is the king of Internet research and sussed out this info on shlomo. Apparently there is a rising problem in "the community" with women who are seeking a get, a Jewish divorce, from their husbands and are denied,even if it was the husband who left! This leaves the woman alone but technically married and therefore untouchable by any other man, an agunah or chained woman. Of course in the USA anyone can get a divorce in a civil court but without the get, no other marriage is halakhically recognized and the the successive children will be considered bastards. Poor bastards.

The rabbis of the couples community are supposed to decree a Yeger Seruv, a social castigation technique supposed to coerce the man using pressure and shame, excluding him from community events and ignoring him in synagogue (who needs the death penalty? we can just start ignoring people in synagogue! man, what century are these people living in?) but, surprisingly, this method no longer seems to work, either the community doesn't exert enough pressure or the man just doesn't care.

Now the other part of the problem is that there are a few rabbis who ENCOURAGE men to deny their ex-wives a get, stating that women who do not fulfill their marriage vows are wicked and do not deserve a second chance. This lovely position is where Shlomo Blumenkrantz comes in. He is one of these fine men of the cloth whose misogyny extends even beyond that of regular hasids, who are up in arms and seeking, rather successfully, human rights concern even outside the immediate community.

for more info check out these links.

http://www.forward.com/articles/11989/
http://users.aol.com/agunah/plight.htm
http://www.lilith.org/blog/?p=108

Good times in kensington. Imagine what their Bangladeshi and Mexican next-door neighbors must have thought being awakened on Sunday morning by a mob of angry Jews calling for shame!!?? Brooklyn is amazing. In other seemingly impossible and hilarious news, Ben spent last evening helping our landlady (the obese and somewhat nutty Jewish woman who works doing animal therapy with kids, court ordered crazy people and at nursing homes and who used to play drums for Lionel Hampton but now takes 15 mins to walk up a short flight of stairs) by re hooking up the speakers on her computer so she could listen to this one song that she had had a hankering to hear. She had been calling us to help her with it for DAYS...take a guess. Turns out its Gangster's Paradise by Coolio. Shes dying to listen to Gangsters Paradise. For the next couple hours after he came up we could hear the bassline over and over. I mean, imagine the stuff that goes on around here that we DON'T know about??
Brooklyn, Go, Be, Do.

Merry Christmas! Remember, Buy nothing and vote for Obama!

hooliday!

Ach, consistency. The thorn in the side of the writer. Last night I watched The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Its a wonderful and devastating film, the story of which is true and based on the life of Jean dominique Bauby. Bauby was the editor of french Elle, creative genius, father, philanderer and hedonist, who suffered a massive stroke at the prime of his career and was left with his brain totally intact but with only the movement of one eyelid under his control. Prior to said stroke Bauby had signed a book contract which, apon devising with his therapist a way to spell out words through one eye blinking, he fulfilled. The film is based on this book which he wrote from his hospital bed, telling the story of his life and the feeling of being submerged in a diving bell with no way to surface. He managed to write a book with an eyelid. I dont think i have to detail just how inept and worthless that makes me (and perhaps you too dear reader! Whens the last time you were totally paralyzed and fulfilled your hopes and dreams???) So, instead of lapsing into my safe haven of self deprecation, I will pose this question: Why is it so hard when you have all your wits and capabilities about you to engage fully, to be consistent? Why is it so hard to start things, and furthermore to finish them?? what is it about the human psyche which feasts and revels in under achievement and inactivity? We know how good things like exercise and sleep or reaching a goal feels but we don't do them, we stand in our own way, hem and haw, make excuses. ANd why, when those wits and capabilities are injured, taken away or limited in some way do we suddenly feel capable, indeed driven to complete our intentions, enabled by our hardships to finally do what we wanted to do all along but couldn't find our way to doing? Like computer programmers who lose both legs in a car accident and then take up cycling and compete in the special Olympics. Why not before? When you had legs? Is it that you are freed from the fear of failure? Your impediment is already the failure so there is nothing to follow but success? Anything you do is better than doing nothing no matter how able bodied and sound of mind we are, yet it SO hard to convince yourself that doing something imperfectly or worse, god forbid than someone else could do is even worth trying. Its interesting. And discouraging. Lets see what we can figure out.
I have fallen back into the breakneck pace of NY, not just any time of the year either...but that time dreaded by working parents, garishly prepared for by ad agencies and graphic designers, and ghoulishly droolingly anticipated by retailers great and small; the holidays. Everyone wants their hair done, new clothes, new pots and pans. Good lord. Its nuts. Though I have to say, i feel like people are doing it less. I dont see a lot of shopping happening. True I dont subject myself to malls and stuff but I dont feel the fever pitch that I have in years past.
Its freezing, literally, the sky is steel grey, fruit dwindles and guilt for buying unseasonal produce burgeons. Macy*s however, churns out "book" after "book" (which is what creative directors are calling catalogs these days. They dont call em creative for nothin.) and visions of "tiny head huge pony" dance in my head. They finished the christmas book this year and are now shooting all the asanine Easter clothes and spring collections. Kids dressed as bunnies lots of painted wooden eggs and balloons, you know the stuff. We had two straight days of kids last week. Ugh. We shot swimsuits last week, they created a huge fake rain contraption in a studio in chelsea. It consisted of a five by two wooden box with plastic over the bottom which was rigged up on two iron poles with a pole in the middle and they poked holes in the plastic with sticks to make it "rain." Very lo-tech. But the rain produced by the holes was too fine to see on camera. So we have this wet emaciated swedish model in a skimpy suit with mascara and gel runnign into her eyes, a bellowing italian photographer who wants to see more water falling, the creative directors Nanny and the galumphing boss snickering offset and the prop tech guys madly trying to keep the box full of water and shopvac it out of the plastic on the floor before the model slips and breaks her neck. Finally they take a drill and drill through the bottom of the box so that the water can just fall straight through. Fine, except that they forgot to tell the model to move so shes standing there with sawdust and woodchips and tons of water falling all over her and embedding in her fine hair. It was a comedy of errors. Eventually the pictures looked great but i just CANNOT believe that with everything that is possible in post productions that there was no easier way to acheive that result. But who asked me? Im just a hair assistant. Thank fucking god! Oh btw the photographer's name is Tiziano, which everyone pronounces Titsyanno. Nanny actually uttered this sentence "Gasp! Oh marvellous! Stunning! Beautiful work Titsy!" I almost couldnt hold my composure. Titsy looks more like an auto mechanic than a fashion photographer, hes weathered, nearly bald and has a voice that belies every cigarette hes ever smoked. But, he takes AMAZING pictures. He knows every trick in the book, he gets the models to do exactly what he needs immediately, he has such an eye. He can take a picture of a pair of mirrored sunglasses with no shadow on the face and no reflection in the lens in about 15 mins. Which is amazing. And his eye for compostion in the shot and when we have the perfect one is infallible. When you work with people like that you can really see why clients will pay any amount to get them, comparing the hour and a half it takes the incompetant staff photographer at the in house studio to get one pic (that may or may not end up cutting the mustard with galumphine) and the lack of self confidence in whether we have the shot or not versus knowing that you have EXACTLY what you need with no callbacks or reshoots, its worth every penny, not to mention the morale onset. Ill be with them M T TH next week. Ill let you know how it goes. I sure get to go a lot of fantastic places in NY for these shoots. The studios are amazing! Huge and with gorgeous views of the city. So fancy.:)
The salon is booked solid, which is great. I am in high demand!?!?!? who knew! My color skills are really shaping up, my timing on highlights which previously held molassess in january status, is shaving off minutes by the week. Time is money in the salon darling!! Im having fun and my clients are so great. Half of them know each other so thats fun, and makes for good conversation since we can talk about all these people we know in common. I think im reaping good karma for sending everyone I ever met to Becca when she was building her clientele. Whatever it is Im really greatful to be busy and enjoying my clients. I think ive decided (though I am still going to pursue set hairdressing) that I like salon work and want to continue working with real people throughout my career. Its just too much BS onset, and I want to be an educator eventually which means I have to have lots of color experience.

We made a lovely hanukkah dinner for our landlady. I made a pretty good facsicimle of my moms sweet and sour red cabbage, made applesauce, roasted squash, and gingerbread molassess cookies. Ben made delicious latkes! I was so proud of him, hes really been showing his kitchen skills. Hed kinda been holdign that card since he didnt cook AT ALL the first year and a half we were together, but lately hes really made some impressive stuff. The latkes were perfect. It was a very nice dinner, she is a very interesting woman who never happened to have kids and wouldn't otherwise have anywhere to go for these stupid nostalgic holiday times where you feel like everyone else has tons of plans and love and you dont. Feh.

Ok. gotta get out of my pjs.More later!! Happy holidays! Buy nothing and vote for Obama!