Only awake because my body seems to know when j is oversleeping, and reacts with nightmares to wake us both up. The flaw in this system is that it makes it difficult for me to go back to sleep. Hence the post from the couch.
Been unemployed two weeks now. I am starting to lose my grip. It takes a concerted effort to remember things like the day of the week, and I keep flaking on things. I'm starting to think I'm having that nervous breakdown.....

Tags: mobile

so, they did fire me. that day my last post was written.
I didn't expect to get quite as emotional as I ended up being. this last seven days I have been trying to establish a sense of normalcy, which has been harder than it sounds.
the first few days felt very surreal, i'd never really been fired before. after the initial shock and horror subsided I was left with this hazy state of grief, not even sure what happened had really happened. when I finally left the house I felt like a criminal. like I shouldn't even be allowed to leave.
of course, it hasn't been all bad. in my attempts at restoring personal calm I have been to places and taken part in activities I haven't been able to in years. trying to fill my days with things I couldn't do while working is reminding me why I didn't want to go back to work in the first place.
but I digress.
this is a low. it has to be followed by a high.

Current Location: treo
Current Mood: barbecue potato chip

woke up feeling like garbage this morning. crushing lovecraftian dread and all that.
more seriously my paycheck didn't appear in my account this morning.
maybe it's just a mistake.
however, and I meant to write this down before anything really happens, I am likely getting fired today. which isn't a suprise really. they have been moving like they are looking to be rid of me for awhile.
I feel a sort of strange mix of terror, sadness, and delight. I hate that place. more accurately, I hate who I work with and for. the people I had made friendships with have all kind of forgotten they know me, and the bosses have never really done right by me. as for why all of this is happening, i'm not entirely sure. I imagine it has a great deal to do with my being fat, and not being willing to behave like some idiot cheerleader, or going out of my way to make my boss look good. funny how being good at your job and a hero to your students is worth so very little these days.
but maybe its a mistake, and i'm not getting fired. and i'm only getting worked up for nothing.

Current Mood: like tahoe after the fire

more like wax poetic.....but nevermind.
Very ominous feeling these days. Not really sure why, suffice it to say that while spirits remain high a lurking fear is starting to take hold; gain shape.
The writer's block is easing up only to remind me of how tense my writing muscles are. Frantic musings and ruminations being choked out of me like starting a car after having sat too long.
Only I think some of these things are better left in my head.......
Anyway. yeah. Didn't go to hairwars. Did go to halloween hootenanny 3. Miss A's birthday party is on Sunday. I should feel better by then.

Current Location: couch
Current Mood: sponge
Current Music: fable

Es been awhile.
Primarily since I accidentally killed the only working computer at our house.....sorry J.
So yeah, stuffs! 
Article 1. Miss A's birthday rapidly approaches. Monkeys all around.

Article 2. In need of halloween costume ideas. I'm tapped.

Article 3. Hair Wars tonight? Will prolly go. Support my babies, and all that.

Michele Gwin  is still cooler than you. Just ask Nancy.

This is all.

Current Location: worky work busy bee
Current Mood: corpulent
Current Music: Rick Astley. Seriously.

No shit.
I knew the minute I saw her in a pink tutu and leg warmers Ms Gwin and I were gonna get along. 
She gifted me today a bag a clothing that I am thrilled beyond christmas over.  Just spent thirty minutes in sprint fitting my new dudz and I am happy to report that everything fits, and it's all wearable. 
Kudos to you Michele, you are a boon to the human race. Not just because we wear a similar size andshe is willing to donate to my ever shirnking wardrobe, but because I can talk to her about everything that skinny beezii's just don't understand, and she has the most wonderful smile...and I'm rambling. 
Anyway it's good I have her around because the Earl of Overstreet, Der Sean is leaving me. For San fucking Antonio no less. Some grumbling about some sort of "promotion" or "better pay". Doesn't smell right ot me, a promotion leads one to believe that you are in a better position that when you started, and even if this "better pay" is to be believed I hardly think anything involving moving from CALIFORNIA to TEXAS is an improvement. In any case....
A couple weeks ago another couple friends of mine moved out to the lone star state for similar "promotions". And while those bastards can rot out there for all I care, I actually really like Sean. 
Sean and I have been friends half of forever. And while he might not be the smartest or the funniest person I've met, he's certainly the most honest. Honesty goes a long long way with me; which is something I developed hanging out with him. Sean has seen me through the hardest times of my life, and the some of most fun times. He's been the guy I can call to come drive down to San Jose for a workshop he's not that into, or take burger's to a guy I had a crush on, or watch Trigun all night long and then eat Olive Garden the next day. Sean is that friend you know you can call and drag to anything and it will be fun; and while we've gone long stints without speaking to each other it's always been comforting to have him around. 
Obviously moving cross country doesn't end a friendship. Fuck MySpace will make it like he never left. 
I think the real thing bumming me out is that it's the final nail in the coffin on my  wasted youth. The days of rolling out to whereever for whatever are gone. There will never be another poorly planned and epically failed Beal's Pointe camping trip. Spin classes that felt like anal rape are being replaced with wedding plans and scheduled hang outs. 13 hour Shadowfist games outsoucred to mortages. 
I don't regret growing up, I only regret taking it for granted.

Tags: sean
Current Location: not my computer
Current Mood: pulverized
Current Music: oh, oh no you didn't

Sometimes it's really not.
But sometimes you come home and your near three year old is talking to you about robots and ladybugs demanding to watch "A Bug's Life" again. The toddler potty with the royal announcement music [for when the baby makes shi shi] goes all shitty on you and plays it's tune every time there is the slightest vibration; and the xbox mystically decides to start working again. These are the days my friends. It may not be celebrties and fancy cars and pate en croute but it's pretty perfect to me.
Seriously though, getting to shout inane announcements to the hubby and child when the toilet makes music is pretty funny. Annoying to others, but funny for me.
oh yeah...
work is still work albeit not as frustrating. there was something else....
oh yeah no more lappy. long story.
that is all.

Admittedly, I've been...different lately. I didn't really, really, notice it til today. I had a vague notion it was happening and figured like all things vague it was prolly an apparition or some other such nonsense.
But, no. I have been acting strangely. Getting closer to what really makes me happy, feeling like I'm getting further from things i thought meant a lot. For the last few months I had started to think that I was sort of figuring out where my life was going to go. How I would advance, the travel I would inevitably have to take. I was becoming okay with this notion of working for this company, doing its thing, singing its song, and happily doing my things. Only.....
Recent events have sort of brought into sharp, painful focus that my industry is exactly what people believe it to be. Granted there are a gifted few who are working tirelessly to change the things that are so very very flawed. However. Those flaws.....
I have always had a tenuous relationship with the idea of outer beauty. My appearance was always ridiculed in school, even when I was underweight, even when I was normal weight, even after becoming overweight. It never mattered what clothing trend I would try to follow, or makeup I would wear. I'm just an easy mark that way. At least I was in formative years. Anyway, I decided a long time ago that what other people thought about me was their problem, and that my style was my own, and whatever. Not a FTW feeling, just a casual indifference. Then I became a hairdresser.
And for the most part  being a hairdresser has been really good to me. I essentially get to use living human beings for interpretive sculpture on a daily basis, I get to be a mad scientist and formulate the color of someone's ego. It's a big deal what I do. I've never felt like I was somehow impeded in my development, there was never a job I couldn't get, I got to do awesome rockstar-like things; and I never thought about it. Certainly I saw the industry chew people up and spit them out over the pettiest of things, my own cousin who I went to school with is so sick of being behind the chair shse'd do anything to get out. I saw all the superficial posturing, heard all the psychobabble about image and went along figuring, knowing, that it didn't pertain to be. I'm not like that. I don't judge people and their worth based on the color of their hair or shade of eye shadow. I don't care if people are fat,or black, or poor, or even ugly. People are just people, and who they are may not be "beautiful" in the strictest sense of the word, but the real beauty of this world lies in the human ability to care for and support other people regardless of what they look like.
I believe this is true. I believe that deep down people will drop stupid bullshit and prancing about like prize ponies for the greater good of their fellow man, that the future of any industry relating to beauty will no longer include tearing people apart to sell a product or a hairstyle. That the prize of getting a great haircut or a new eyeliner isn't that someone else thinks it's what you should look like, but that it's just fun. That even on on those days when you run out of product you still feel human enough to go to the store, knowing that you aren't your product.
I really thought the company I worked for thought this way too. They have this vision of a beauty industry immune to its own destructive patterns of gossip and greed. They preach to always do everything in love in kindness. And yes, it's a bit like a cult this way, but dammit the message sounded so good. Happy students, happy teachers, people going out into their new world ready to be humanitarians and enviromentalists, and philanthropists, and good honest people.
Lately I hear a lot about image. How it relates to professionalism, what that even means. I have always gotten a light smattering of grief over the fact I don't wear makeup often. I like makeup, it's fun to do and use, I'm not some fascist feminist trying to say no one should wear the shit; but for me it's just not something I'm into doing everyday. That's all. It's not political, or spirtitual, or laziness really, it's just that I feel like my time has better purposes. Lately, the makeup thing, it keeps coming up. Never directly about me, but always being discussed.  I never really talk about my feelings on the subject, well aware that they are oft misunderstood as being more hostile than they are, today though, today I did.
Everything I believed about my company, and my industry felt like a lie.
These people will spout in one breath peace love and harmony and in the next espouse the same archaic dogma that has held my profession in the vice grip of manure for, for, forever. "We have an image to maintain." "It's the only thing that separates us from boys." "It gives the impression of success." Whoa, back up the fucking train here people. Back it the fuck up. First I'd like to state for public record, every boy I've known with an interest in makeup has worn it and applied better than any woman I know. Secondly, image? Are you serious? I see high ranking corporate trainers looking like unkempt garbage, and you want to get on me for not wearing eyeliner? I've always been attracted to the notion that as long as you have a style even if no one else gets it that it doesn't matter. I guess that only applies when you are working platforms and runways. Third I'd like to address the whole idea of successful women wearing makeup to look professional or vice versa. Um, fuck that. If your face is the only reason people pay attention to you stay the fuck out of mine. I'm only interested in people who are worthwhile for the sake of being worthwhile. Rich, poor, middleclass whatever, I never equate how one's face is painted. I'm sure that other people do, but I don't. Finally what about the idea of our ideals? What happened to being the change you want for the world? Suddenly it's okay for people tear someone down for having a different opinion. What?!
Listen, I have a daughter. She's two. And she is beautiful. And funny, and smart, all the things every parent wishes their kids were like, and I got to have her. I don't care if she wants to wear makeup when she's older, just as long as she knows she doesn't need it. The idea of my baby not knowing how precious she is for even a second sickens me. Thinking that someday she will look at herself in the mirror and hate what she sees makes me violent. Today thinking about these things makes me so sad. Sad because for all of my efforts to bring some real beauty to this industry if I stay inside it I could ultimately bear responsibility for her feeling that way.
All I'm saying is there has to be a better way, or I'm going to have to try another line of work.

i just sent myself an edible arrangement. notreally to be arrogant or snarky to j, but because i really like them, and winn claybaugh said I could send myself flowers. it's not weird. it's funny.

no one else is losing sleep tonight. they don't understand gravity and it's weight upon things. they sleep soundly in their beds, drunk, stoned, both it doesn't matter. my feelings right now? they don't matter either. you reach a point when there is nothing you can do. trying just makes you feel like more of an asshole.
everyone is alseep.
i just, i just really hate being awake.