Valerie
xoxo

p.s. – comment section is closed to keep me from weeping.

Unless you’ve actually worked as a cosmetologist, you would never realize that this occupation is 5% styling hair and 95% psychiatry.

It amazes me that cosmetology schools don’t include a basic psychology course as part of their training program.

They don’t even mention the fact that when you get out of school and start working in this profession, you’ll be touching the heads of people who are severely delusional.

I used to have a “magic wand” at my hair styling station for when a client would ask me to cut their hair, which would usually resembled a Chia Pet to look like either a movie star or a super model. I would literally take the wand, tap them on the head and say, “Not unless this wand will produce a miracle.”

My favorite clients where the ones who brought me in about 10 magazine clippings from VOGUE, ALLURE or HARPER’S BAZAAR on how they wanted their hair to look when I got finished with it. The clippings were always professional models who had been air-brushed and digitally mastered. Now, the reality of this was that the client wanted to BE these models. I finally got to the point were I bluntly started telling my clients, “If you decide to bring me in any magazine clippings, please be sure to use white-out on the faces before you show them to me, because I can only cut your hair…not perform cosmetic augmentation.”

Not only is this occupation riddled with unrealistic physical manifestations, but it’s also about having to listen to a clients personal problems. On the average, a stylist will usually see 8-10 people a day. So that’s 8-10 hair services, coupled with 8-10 psychology sessions.

I knew I was getting close to my “swan song” in this business, when one day a client said to me, “I know it’s only been 2 weeks since my last haircut, but I had to get in to see you because I’ve been an emotional mess and needed to talk to you, Ron.”

(oh, you mean…Dr. Ron?)

Finally, that day came when I had a new client who could not make up her mind about how she wanted her hair to look. I cut and blew it dry TWICE. She was a foreigner, so we had a bit of a language barrier, but I had been cutting hair long enough to know when someone shows me with their fingers, just how much length they want cut off. She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted, so I guess she figured, “Oh, well…let me just see what it looks like at various lengths.

After cutting it for the second time the demon within me SNAPPED!

(I totally lost it)

Without even thinking, I ripped the cutting cape off from around her neck and then grabbed her purse off the counter; handing it to her, saying, “You don’t owe me any money for this appointment, but kindly remove yourself from the salon.”

(she blinked…then blinked again)

All the other stylists in the salon suddenly stopped cutting hair.

(you could hear a pin drop)

She looked at me and said, “Excuse me?”

I reiterated.

She said, “I want hair cut, sir!”

I said, “No, your haircut is finito…bye!”

She looked at me with a stern face and said, “You VERY mean man!”

I looked at her with a smile and said, “Yes, I agree, but you VERY confused woman”

After she left I picked up the phone and called the owners of the salon, giving my two weeks notice.

I let my license expire and never looked back.

However, I HAVE learned something very valuable from this experience.

I would rather eat thumbtacks and glass…than style another head of hair!!!

Uh huh. I’ll tell you why I don’t believe this and I think people lie more often than they are willing to admit or even realize.

In the book The Day America Told the Truth, by James Patterson and Peter Kim it stated that “91 percent of Americans lie regularly. The majority of us find it hard to get through a week without lying and one in five can’t make it through a single day without bending the truth.”

Ninety-one percent! I don’t find that statistic surprising at all. It’s not always easy to know how one will react when the pressure is on.  We lie to be polite, we lie to impress, we lie to avoid punishment, we lie to flatter, but not all lies are meant to be harmful. I believe people lie more often than they realize because white lies, i.e. the Stork, Santa Clause, the Tooth Fairy, etc. are socially acceptable, whereas bald-faced lies¹ are not. White lies may appear to be harmless, but they are still lies, right?

Then there’s the lie by omission, we only tell half the truth. We omit certain facts, details or information leading someone to believe one thing when we know another to be true. Lying, even on a small scale, seems unavoidable.

We lie to our friends, we lie to strangers, we lie to our employer, we lie to ourselves and what did surprise me during my research for this post is that the majority of people we lie to are the ones we love the most.  That’s sad, but I understand why that may be true.

I’m no beacon of truth, just in case you’re wondering. I have told lies I’m not particularly proud of, but I still consider myself a trustworthy person.  Is it possible to be 100% honest all of the time, I say no, but there are ways to tactfully tell the truth, and without hurting someone’s feelings.  I travel on this road as often as possible.  While I don’t believe that most people are practice liars, I do believe a majority of people engage in some type of lying, daily, unless you happen to be George Costanza, then it’s not a lie if you believe it.

Is lying is the social lubricant that sustains a civil society or does “lying corrode trust and intimacy—the glue of a civil society?”²

Your thoughts?

1. or bold/bare faced lies
2. Livescience.com

If you’re interested in being a guest blogger, send me an email or click on the contact me link above.  I do have one guest post coming up the week after next when I’m on vacation and someone is even interested in interviewing ME!  I’ll be sure to post the link when and if that ever happens.  Barbara S., I know I owe you one, I’ll make good on my word, thanks for your patience.  I hope to get some writing done while away and finalize the posts I have written, once I find them. That’s the downside to writing my posts out by longhand, keeping up with the notebook I wrote them in.

I’ve also been looking around for a new blog theme, so if you happen to stop by one day and things look weird or different, then you’ve landed on the right blog, come on in.

I’ve enjoyed my summer and now I’m reluctantly preparing to roll out the red carpet for S.A.D.  It’s already getting dark way too early and it’s messing with my mood.  I do plan to keep myself occupied with the A Photo a Day for 365 days project, the artificial light should help a little.  Sounds like a lot of work fun!

Thanks Jannie and JD!

Just so you know what to look for:  Laugh:   Boo:   Applause:   Crickets:

I was going to publish a live reading of this post in stand-up comedy format, but after several attempts and still not liking the sound of my voice, I nixed the idea and traded my microphone in for a keyboard.

I hope it reads like stand-up comedy, I even added a few interactive buttons for you to play with as you read along. So, please, sit back and pretend I’m on stage. I hope you enjoy the show.

Please welcome to the stage, Valerie Morrison. Applause:

How many of you remember the rotary phone? When the phone was just a phone. I think one of the reasons I don’t like the phone is because it’s complicated.

If the phone was a test, I would get an operator, a zero. I liked the phone back when all it did was make and receive phone calls, but now it has evolved into a call center. It can do things.

I think the phone has too many features, take for example, call waiting. When I was growing up there was no such thing as call waiting.  Back in the day, call waiting meant using a rotary phone and waiting for the dial to come back around so that I could dial the next number.  There was no clicking over, and for what? To tell the other person that I was on the phone and would call them back.

Personally, I liked when there was security posted at the door better known as, a busy signal.  If someone called me and they got a busy signal, they had to wait. Of course, there was that one person who could not and dialed the operator with an emergency and interrupted my call.  There was no real emergency, but an impatient person who never grasped the true meaning of call waiting.

The other feature I consider a useless overkill is three-way calling. Does anyone even use three-way calling anymore? It seems so high school. In my childhood home, three-way calling meant there was one line and two phones. One in the kitchen and one in the living room.

When a call came in two people picked up the phone at the same time and talked to whoever was on the other end; or until someone yelled, “I got it, hang up.”

And there were no games with phones without features. No screening calls and no avoiding people like there is today. The only Caller ID we had was, hello, who is this?

Now phones come with 100 features and voice mail. The phone has options. Press 1 for new messages, press 2 for voice mail, press 3 to set up your mailbox.

If you don’t know, I suck at following directions, that’s why I never took aerobics class at the gym. My brain shuts down. I can’t process certain information quickly and I start to panic. It’s the same panic I feel when I’m inside an elevator and I see someone running toward the closing doors.

Even though the buttons are clearly marked, open and close, I never press the right one. I panic under pressure and usually end up yelling ‘sorry’ as the doors close shut.  Once, I pressed every button, but open, and had to stop on floors, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 and 10. When pressed for a decision made under a time constraint, I can’t cope and usually mess up.

Now a question for the audience. What is it about cordless phones that make people want to pace the floor? It’s like an exercise program with no jump rope. The cordless phone should come in a box with ankle weights.

Someone could be resting on the couch, but the minute that phone rings, and it’s for them, they start pacing the floor with the phone. I’ve watched people on the phone go from room to room – just walking – and I’m only getting bits and pieces of their conversation. It sounds like this: and she said…….never came home…the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Nothing makes sense! Not that I’m listening.

I’m just saying, I liked the phone better when it was attached to a cord. I could walk two feet, aaaand that’s it! Anything past two feet and the phone was snatched back and smashed up against the wall.

The cordless phone is never where it’s supposed to be anyway. It used to be when the phone rang, you reported to the wall to answer it. Now when the phone rings, if it’s not on that handset, well try and find it. The cordless phone was made to get lost. It says so right there on the base, find handset.

So not only is the phone lost, but after you press the find handset button, you have to locate the beep. It’s the same disorientation I get when I play pin the tail on the donkey. I don’t like it because it sucks.

I know this is a little long, so I’m going to wrap it up, but before I go I have to share a phone story.

A few weeks ago my computer at work was switched out and I was given another one, I guess you could call it an upgrade. Everything was basically the same, except one of the programs I use was not properly configured, the Message Manager.

The Message Manager handles voice mail message, it’s very simple. I launch the program, I click on the message, it rings my phone and it plays my message. I like it because it does not talk to me nor does it ask me any questions.

So my message light is red, indicating that I have a message. I launched the program, but it’s missing an IP address and can’t access the server. Basically that means for two days I did not check my voice mail. There is a way of retrieving voice mail messages using the phone, I’ve heard people do this, I’m just not smart enough to do it.

Eventually, I got tired of looking at my message light and I dialed a co-worker who is used to my nonsense and whispered:

“I don’t know how to retrieve my voice mail messages, from the phone.”

“Val, what are you talking about? You press the little envelope that says messages.”

“There’s an envelope? Oh, right there. There’s 300 buttons on this phone, but I see it now.” So I pressed the envelope and this woman started talking. She greeted me with a welcome message and told me to enter my extension and the pound sign. I entered my extension, 2177 and #.

Next she told me to enter my password. My password is my extension backward. This seems simple enough, but to an instructionally-challenged dyslexic, it’s numerical musical chairs and I needed a minute to think about what she was asking me to do.

After several attempts, maybe I was nervous or stupid, I could not type 7712 and the woman on the phone kept telling me that I had the wrong passcode and to please try again. After three tries I decided I didn’t like her tone and hung up on her.

I know I’m not phone literate, but darn it if I don’t know how to work a computer, so I sent an email to the HELP department. Unlike most people, I can’t send a normal email asking for help, I have to write a little ditty explaining my situation. My last email message to Help read this way:

Dear Help,
Thank you for the new computer, I hope my old one is not being used as evidence against me. I would like to retrieve my voice mail messages using the program on the computer, and not the phone, mainly because the woman on the phone talks too much, I can’t follow directions, but I’m down with clicking. Thank you.

That’s my time for the evening. Good night.

Laugh:   Boo:   Applause:   Crickets:

The Wheel of Fortune we see today is not like the Wheel of Fortune of old when Vanna actually had to turn the square to reveal a letter. Now it’s computerized and we all know her job can be done electronically. To me, her job is the equivalent to when a contestant knows the puzzle, but they buy a vowel anyway. I don’t get it, but no hate here Vanna. It’s honest work and your job is not the only one I used to question.  Here’s two more:

Ramp Agent. That’s the person on the ground at the airport responsible for guiding the pilots with hand signals or orange flashlight wands into position next to the gate. Now if I’m the pilot, I’m thinking: I just flew an aircraft across the country, landed safely and there is someone on the ground the size of an ant signaling to me where and how to park my plane? Move out of the way, I got this, but that was before I actually searched a ramp agent’s duties. They do more than guide planes into parking spaces, but also perform a variety of maintenance activities. Who knew?

Conductor of an Orchestra. He doesn’t even have an instrument, but a stick. Actually it’s a baton, but stick is funnier. I used to look at the conductor and think, you have got to be kidding me.  He’s playing an “instrument” that doesn’t even make a sound.  That was before I knew his job was more than just waving a stick, but he has to:

• be intimately familiar with all of the musical pieces selected;
• encourage musicians to play louder or softer;
• be involved in the creative and business decisions long before the performance; and
• know precisely when each instrument enters the musical highway.

Thank you wisegeek.com

After reading the duties of a conductor, surprisingly, I felt a kinship. One of my favorite activities is cooking, and not your everyday cooking, but dinner parties. When I’m in the kitchen preparing meals for a large group, I feel like a conductor directing an orchestra of foods because:

• I too have to be intimately familiar with all of the foods I’m preparing;
• I have to encourage the food to cook faster or slower;
• I have to be involved in the creative decisions regarding the background music and selecting the right blend of guests attending; and
• I have to know precisely when each food has to enter the culinary highway to arrive on the table, hot, and at the same time.

Besides my attempts at humor, it’s one of the few times when I’m in a zone and I feel “on.”  Now, when I watch a conductor, I see myself standing in the middle of the kitchen, with my utensils raised, and I totally get it.

When are you on and what’s your talent when you are just doing the darn thing?

Note to Vanna: I owe you an apology. You obviously do more than I realized on Wheel of Fortune.  Who knew that you would:

• be intimately familiar with all of the puzzles selected;
• encourage contestants to buy a vowel when the puzzle is only missing vowels; and
• be involved in the creative and business decisions long before the show.

__ __M       S__R R Y      V__N N__      W__L L     Y__ __

__ V__R      F__R G__V__      M__?

Wheel of Fortune picture by Wikipedia
Ramp Agent photo by Hawkeye
Conductor photo by Dugway

I’m testing a mobile blog application, thanks Corrina, and didn’t want to write “testing”, so if you want to play word association, let’s do it.

Otherwise, regular blogging activity will resume this week. A post a month, the every 28 days blog, the once a month blog. I was thinking about changing the name considering it’s been over 30 days and I’m late.

I’ll be back.

Maybe I shouldn’t use the curling iron on my hair everyday, but like Penny from Good Times, I burn it because it was bad.

So as I was saying, I was watching the Today Show with Meredith Vieira and a representative from Julien’s Auctions was on as a guest. Later this month, Julien’s will be auctioning off items that belonged to Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley’s personal physician.

The items aren’t even that desirable, but the hefty price tags make them nothing to sneeze at. Take for example, Marilyn Monroe’s umbrella. It’s being auctioned for $16 to $18,000 and it was only used in a photo shoot. Nobody knows for sure if the darn thing can even repel water.

It will probably never see the light of day. The potential buyer might as well take $18,000, cash, put it in a box and store it in the closet. Same thing.

I will never understand why anyone would pay thousands of dollars for stuff that belonged to a celebrity.

Sure, I admire people, but after they are dead that’s when I sever the relationship. They will not get any more worship or admiration from me.

I know it’s not unusual for a celebrity’s movie, CD or DVD, to see a boost in sales after they have expired, but if I didn’t want their stuff while they were alive, then I definitely don’t want it after they’re dead.

That segment got me wondering about my own personal belongings. In this article from USA Today, “three tablespoons of water said to have been touched by The King at a 1977 concert, sold on eBay for $455. Then, someone else paid thousands for a “guest appearance” by the cup that held the water from which Elvis sipped nearly 30 years ago.”

Shaking my head.

I don’t want people selling my stuff after I die, so I’m going to sell it to you now, below cost.

You can buy the Styrofoam cup I sipped water out of, not 30 years ago, but 30 minutes ago. I will throw in a 16 ounce of bottled water and if you want me to touch the water, please indicate your wishes when you pay.

Next on the lot is a wad of gum masticated personally by me. I’m no Britney Spears, but I have gum and I’m not afraid to discard of it. It can be yours, if the price is right. Please note: It does not come with the happy face. I had to dress it up to make it look more appealing to potential buyers for obvious reasons. It’s. A. Piece. Of. Chewed. Gum!

Justin Timberlake’s half eaten toast sold for $3,100? Well, I was running late yesterday morning and didn’t get a chance to finish my breakfast and I also have a half eaten piece of toast. Unlike Justin, I will throw in the napkin used to wipe my hands and mouth.

I don’t know if my piece of toast is worth $3,100, the loaf of bread was only $2.50, but I’m almost certain if you hold it up to the light, you can see an outline of the Virgin Mary. Check it!

That should get the price close to $2,500.

This watch was gifted by Elvis to his personal physician and will fetch as much as $20,000. Do you know how many watches you can buy at Wal-Mart for $20,000, and that watch doesn’t even have any numbers on it. I call that defective.

You can buy my watch for a fraction, of a fraction, of a fraction of that price, or for cheap.

Last on my list is an empty bottle of Women’s One A Day Vitamins. The empty pill bottles that belonged to Elvis may fetch $800 – $1200. At that price, I’m thinking, no….leave the pills inside. I’m going to need them after I write a check for something I could have purchased from the dollar store.

I’m not on any medication, although I probably should be, but these vitamins have been good to me and my vitality. Actually they were only good to me for 60 days, and then I had to replenish with another bottle, but I used it. Unlike Elvis, that’s me in the picture.

I don’t know what the obsession is with celebrities and their discarded junk, but if there is a market for it, then I want in on it. I know I’m not famous, but I could be one day, so why wait, buy now!

This empty bottle of Kaluah was used in the completion of this post. Okay that’s not true, but it is my bottle and it’s special to me. I’ve had it for over 4 years; I think that counts for something.

Wait, wait, wait, that’s not the end of this post, where you going? I have more items for sale here. These items will not last forever.

Don’t wait until I’m dead, buy now.

EDIT: Julien’s continues to mess with my links, if you get an error, go here and complain, but don’t buy anything from them, buy from me.

I highlighted the word mistake because that’s what a typo is, it’s a mistake and even though we all make them, nothing unnerves people like a typo. Why is that?

Illustration: We’re surfing the web, maybe we’re reading a blog post, and then we see it, a typo. We look at it, maybe we go back and reread the sentence again. Yep, it’s a typo and we stare at it like it’s a two-headed monster.

Next, we either run away screaming or somehow we muddle through the confusion of H being transposed with E and realize the word the author meant to type was “the” and we leave a comment.

After clearing up the confusion in our mind, we go on our merry way, but we can’t stop thinking about that typo! We go back to their blog, or the article, to see if it’s still there, and it is, the author hasn’t corrected it yet.

We scratch, we twitch, and maybe we call Bob from Accounting or send a copy of the typo around to people on our email list and announce we found a typo. No mention of a cure for cancer, but we found a typo. Unable to cope, we send the author an email pointing out their gaffe. All better now.

Seriously? That type of behavior reminds me of a cop who writes a ticket for a parked car because the meter expired while the burglar behind him tiptoes away with the booty. There are more pressing issues, especially in casual writing situations, when a typo can be overlooked.

So, besides the embarrassment, what is it about the typo that agitates people to no end? Is it our place to contact a blogger, or anyone, if they have a typo in their writing? When we make errors, are we as vocal about our mistakes as we are with the mistakes of others?

I read a couple of blogs that remain typo free, I commend you, and I’m sad – not really – to say I won’t be joining you in the ranks. I make typos here, not on purpose, of course, and if I’m a regular reader of your blog, then I leave typos there too. I might leave another comment asking the blogger (if I know them well enough) to fix my typo, or not, but I know I suck at proofreading.

Is that a lazy way of thinking. I suck so I refuse to try? No, I think it’s more of, I know when my writing needs to be error free and if I have an occasional slip of the finger, it’s not the end of the world, for me. I’m not saying we shouldn’t care or that it’s okay if our blog posts or emails contain errors, but if it’s a minor typo, can’t we all just get along, without the nitpicking?

Of course, no article, blog post or anything written should have an excessive amount of typos, it’s embarrassing and it looks bad.

If you’ve made a typo on your blog and someone contacted you about it, is it a big deal, do you freak out, become upset or do you say thank you and correct it?

I’m curious, how do you feel about typos? Should you or do you correct the typos from commenters on your blog? Is it about being perfect or not looking sloppy or ignorant?

I think Dee said it best when she said typos don’t appear until we (bloggers) hit publish.

This post was proofread by me and another set of eyes.  I am nervously going to hit publish now, but if you should happen to find a typo, please do not email me, I made a mistake and I’m okay with it.

Additional Reading:

Jeff Deck’s Fearless War on Typos