#1: Welcome to my Blog Cabbin
Wednesday, 19. March 2008, 22:16:26
I would like to welcome myself to the "blogosphere", and I'd like to welcome you to my "blog cabin" (as I now like to call it.)
I really like the look of this site overall, and I think that alone will make me update my blog more often then I did on MySpace & LiveJournal. Speaking of MySpace, now that I'm trying to not sign in for two months, to see if I can do it. I think this site will help immensely in seeing it through. Who knows? By the end of the two months, I may be blogging it up more frequently over here. I enjoy writing--or typing in this case--so it works out for all parties involved.
5:52 PM: I just got back from getting my haircut at the best place so far to get trimmed up, "BEST CUTS". It's in the same shopping center as the DMV and Lazer Tag Fun Place or whatever it's called--Oh yes, Ultra Zone. That's right.
My history with the traditional american haircut experience, for most of my life, has been lackluster to say the least. From ages 3 to around 13-14, you have no say whatsoever. Even in designated location of said haircut. The parent has full control of your head. Your dad could say "Fuck the lil' bastard, give him the Don Knotts!" and no matter how hard your pouted, or how hard you pleaded your case for something more "cool", the hair dresser was going to lean towards the parents 9 out of 10 times. Maybe there was that 1 rebellious hair dresser, who said, "No, Fuck you, Dad! Dave gets his way."
Unfortunately, I never got that guy. From that point on, I hopped from barber to barber. Never really finding someone I could go back to on a regular basis. In some cases, I'd turn it over to some friends or Maegan to give it a go. You save some money, and if your friend messes up, you can just guilt trip them until the next haircut, when they ask you hesitantly "Are you sure? You didn't like it the last time."
This has changed in 2008 with Best Cuts, a small shop inside the fore mentioned shopping center. I never even thought about going there. It's right down the street from my house, and it has been there for about 10 years. I just was oblivious to it. This was my kind of place, completely dead. Not a single patron to be found. I was seated by a hair stylist named Nikki, and she would always ask considerate stylist to patron questions "Is this too much?" "How do you want it done?" "Do you like the length back there?". I was completely surprised after the first haircut, I actually liked what I was seeing. Enough to get a card, and get her schedule. I went back after two months today, and asked for a trim.
And how about that? She knew that what the term "trim" means. I went on a rant about how trim in her business always is mistaken for "Go nuts!". It's almost as if stylists/barbers/butchers, whatever you want to call them, speak an alien language that sounds eerily similar to English. Something like "Not too much off the top." meant "Could you take off all of the top, please?".
So after 26 years, I finally have hair stability. I've found a stylist I can trust with my head, and I can call and book an appointment with.
I really like the look of this site overall, and I think that alone will make me update my blog more often then I did on MySpace & LiveJournal. Speaking of MySpace, now that I'm trying to not sign in for two months, to see if I can do it. I think this site will help immensely in seeing it through. Who knows? By the end of the two months, I may be blogging it up more frequently over here. I enjoy writing--or typing in this case--so it works out for all parties involved.
5:52 PM: I just got back from getting my haircut at the best place so far to get trimmed up, "BEST CUTS". It's in the same shopping center as the DMV and Lazer Tag Fun Place or whatever it's called--Oh yes, Ultra Zone. That's right.
My history with the traditional american haircut experience, for most of my life, has been lackluster to say the least. From ages 3 to around 13-14, you have no say whatsoever. Even in designated location of said haircut. The parent has full control of your head. Your dad could say "Fuck the lil' bastard, give him the Don Knotts!" and no matter how hard your pouted, or how hard you pleaded your case for something more "cool", the hair dresser was going to lean towards the parents 9 out of 10 times. Maybe there was that 1 rebellious hair dresser, who said, "No, Fuck you, Dad! Dave gets his way."
Unfortunately, I never got that guy. From that point on, I hopped from barber to barber. Never really finding someone I could go back to on a regular basis. In some cases, I'd turn it over to some friends or Maegan to give it a go. You save some money, and if your friend messes up, you can just guilt trip them until the next haircut, when they ask you hesitantly "Are you sure? You didn't like it the last time."
This has changed in 2008 with Best Cuts, a small shop inside the fore mentioned shopping center. I never even thought about going there. It's right down the street from my house, and it has been there for about 10 years. I just was oblivious to it. This was my kind of place, completely dead. Not a single patron to be found. I was seated by a hair stylist named Nikki, and she would always ask considerate stylist to patron questions "Is this too much?" "How do you want it done?" "Do you like the length back there?". I was completely surprised after the first haircut, I actually liked what I was seeing. Enough to get a card, and get her schedule. I went back after two months today, and asked for a trim.
And how about that? She knew that what the term "trim" means. I went on a rant about how trim in her business always is mistaken for "Go nuts!". It's almost as if stylists/barbers/butchers, whatever you want to call them, speak an alien language that sounds eerily similar to English. Something like "Not too much off the top." meant "Could you take off all of the top, please?".
So after 26 years, I finally have hair stability. I've found a stylist I can trust with my head, and I can call and book an appointment with.
(33%)
WIDGETIZE