Okay, I love my job, but I really don't care for having to work on my day off because we can't seem to find a competent receptionist. The last two were absolute nightmares, so now we don't have one at all. I don't mind so much; helping out my awesome boss and earning some extra cash, but shit, really? Is there not an intelligent person out there who is in need of a job, able to multi-task, and can work well in customer service? Seriously?

Okay, I'm through bitching, just had to get that out. I have so much more going on to be excited about than to bitch over anyways, so I'll just quit while I'm ahead. Sooo much going on so far this year! Getting promoted at work, Redken class on 2/1, going to see Wicked 2/3, amazing Pureology artist coming for an in-salon class after that on 2/8, another hella awesome in-salon training class with one of Redken's top colorists in March, going to see AFI again on 3/16 (buying my DF pre-sales tomorrow, BTW!!) Gotta say I'm loving life right now!!

Had a model come in yesterday. She gave me some basic guidelines, but I was able to get creative with her color and the technique I used. Lots of fun there and it came out beautiful! Vibrant brown/red base color with two different/dimensional blonde highlights, one dark and one light. And I always forget to take pictures!! Grr!

Oh, and I got my Christmas present installed today! My factory-installed POS stereo in my car crapped out on me a few months ago and I finally got my new one put in. Kick ass sound and I can once again insert a CD without it spitting it back out at me with that ugly E20 (aka, fuck you bitch!) message on the display! Hella!

And in case anyone was wondering, my blog name comes from my favorite poem that I've written. See below, then please proceed to have a beautiful night! Til next time!

Lament

Bring back all my memories of the pain I’ve always felt.
Back to the past—black to the blade.
Blackout in subconscious leaves me weak and stained.
Drained of color.
Subjection to the cold.
Contagious like a disease to those around me.
Separate—I keep myself.
Hard against the grain still pulses through.
Shakes the pane and shards of glass break the surface.
Waves collapse around me and steal my dying breath.
I breathe remorse—immersed within the incarnadine channel—a river imbrued as I plunge below the shallow.
I breathe attrition—regretfully I know, the coldest day in July.
All unraveled and went awry.
I breathe—my one affliction.
I did not die.