Monday, March 27, 2006

Yes, it's distorted...

My size, that is. My head is gargantuan in this photo. Do not, however, be fooled that the tshirt is a trick of photoshop. It is indeed what I wore in high school. I also wore it under my sweater to the JK concert last month, just in case I got wild and crazy and got to flash him in the front row. Oh, before anyone makes note of my disturbing haircut (which in light of the shirt may not be the most disturbing thing I've got going here)...I've finally cut bangs again, so my forehead is not the blinding wonder that it is here.

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Life in the trenches

I've been working for six weeks now. That may explain my absence a bit. I'm at work about 43 hours a week. Add an hour commute to that five days a week, and my time not spent at work is spent, well, doing other stuff. Writing has taken a back seat.

But I will use these few free moments to share with you what I've experienced thus far as an esthetician. I have met some very interesting clients, and had some very interesting things happen. Here's the short list:

1. Greeting a male client on the massage table, nude, neglecting to cover himself. A fine introduction. Said client has returned four times in a week and a half. I think I may have a new work boyfriend, much to my chagrin.

2. While giving a massage, I seat myself on a rolling stool at the foot end of the table to work the feet. One time while going to sit on said stool, it rolled out from under me and I landed square on my ass, still holding the client's foot.

3. Priviledged housewives with more money than sense usually tip you about $2.44 on an eighty dollar service. Here's a hint, folks. We salon folks work in a SERVICE industry. Tipping is customarily 15 to 20% of the service cost. I don't booth rent, I work on commission. I don't get to keep that eighty bucks. I get about thirty of it. And though I am at work forty hours, thirty bucks doesn't constitute my hourly rate. I average about ten bucks an hour, just like the rest of you working class folks.

4. Don't give a bikini wax to a pregnant woman in her first trimester. It hurts like a bitch. And I'm not kidding when I warn you of this, ma'am. Please trust me. Or, you could just about leap off the table and quit halfway through the service and walk out lopsided...don't blame me because I told you so.

5. I turned a man into a woman yesterday. He was going to a switch party and needed help looking like a "passing" woman, not a drag queen, or a guy wearing his grandma's housecoat. He called me two hours after he left my salon a "she", telling me that I rock and that he would be wanting to do this again, because it was so fun freaking out his friends. Quietly, I may have just created a new transvestite. And he was GORGEOUS.

6. Waxing backs is so freaking fun. Seriously. I want someone to yell "Kelly Clarkson!" and make my day. The closest thing to that was when a client accused me of being a sadist. Funny thing is, I *was* enjoying it a bit too much.

7. I really don't like doing massage. It's boring. And it makes my hands and back hurt. Chances are your massage therapist is planning her vacation, going over shopping lists, and figuring out what to make for dinner whilst doing her best effleurage movements over your quads. I know that's what I do.

8. I don't get paid enough to massage your butt.

9. One client who had OCD came in for an eyebrow wax. She wouldn't lay on the table, only sit. Which poses a problem when you are that old and your eyelid basically lays like a hood over your eye when you are upright. I have to pull the crap out of your eyelid in order to spread the skin enough to not wax your skin right off. She complained that the wax was too hot, the tweezers hurt too much, and did I disinfect those tweezers? Finally finish, and go to show her in my hand mirror...she freaked out because she can't hold that mirror, it was too close to the floor...and could you please wash your hands before you touch me again because that dirty mirror was too close to the floor...and before she left, she asked if I had time to do her UPPER LIP AS WELL? Well, I guess I won her trust and a faithful client. Lucky me.

10. Being an esthetician rocks. For all the crazies, and bad tippers, and unsolicited nudity, there are a hundred more awesome clients. Like my 8am leg wax who brought me Krispy Kreme yesterday and my Friday morning massage client who makes wine and brought me a bottle in lieu of a tip the other day. And the guy who tipped me twenty bucks on a thirty five dollar service. Making money helping people look better and feel better. It's a damn fine living.

Monday, March 13, 2006

Depressingly boring

Is my life right now. Not living it, but writing about it. Job is good...kicking my ass. I'm gone way too much. After some more time spent building trust there, I will be trying to finagle fewer hours, but until then, I'm working hard. But the money? Is great.

Family is good. The Wee Prince is talking now. Really talking. And it's adorable. The princess will be six next month, and is actually not doing anything crazy worth mentioning.

My husband and I are rediscovering a closeness that had gone away for awhile. And that rocks. It could be that I'm now bringing home money, which pays more bills, which destresses everyone. So I am not going to complain about work.

Or my kids, or my husband, or my life.

So what's left to blog about?