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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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blah blah night out
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
Hair

So went back to refresh my hair color and get more highlights. I now, apparently, have a regular hairperson. I've never had a regular hairperson. But now I do. I have a card with my name, address, three contact numbers, my hair color, what she does, and what color I use, along with the standard price. I have an index card.

Seriously, strange though this may sound, this is the most adult I've felt in my life. It's a strange, surreal feeling. They greet me by name, they sit me down, we discuss things in our lives, I have mysterious hair things done, and yet again, my hair is a vivid shade of red. It grew a surprising amount, and reds fade easily, which argues I really need to get some color-specific shampoo, and omg, am I taking my hair seriously?

Wow.

For the curious, it's a true red, not auburn, and the highlights are only on top in blonde. Per advice from my hairperson, who said it all through would look odd and not show as well. So far, everyone I've talked to seems to like it. I keep staring in the mirror, playing with the blonde bits.

My hairperson.

Seriously, this is weird.

Yes, my real life is a place of so many extreme boredoms it's unreal. But seriously. I have a hairperson.

Do they like to be called someone else? *worried*

Out for the Night

Nothing is as boring as listening to other people talking about their nights out, and everyone does it, and far be it from me not to continue the tradition. I mean, nothing extraordinary happened.



nezsa and I have changed venues to fifth street, not sixth. Sixth is Of Legend, Is the Place of Live Music, Is Where Everyone Goes (Everyone, Dammit, Ask Anyone! /sarcasm off), and is a terrifying number of people who make me feel Very Very Old. I mean, I'm twenty-eight, and I feel like a child molester. This is not so far off. Most of the clubs are set up for teh eighteen-to-twenty-three set. I don't grudge them the time or space and true, they have great music, but I do grudge tiny eighteen year old children putting their hands in Uncomfortable Places. Seriously, what would their mothers say?

Yes, I did just say that. *sighs*

Fifth tends toward, as a rule, professinal adults, or at least, better mannered people. The age range is huge. And it's twenty-one and up only, which is a relief--see Uncomfortable Places touching. I get that in a crowded club, I'm going to be felt up at some point without necessarily being at all interested in the hands doing it, but at least most of them pretend it's a total accident and a problem with space.

Anyway, there are several okay places to go down there, and extremely watered drinks (I've had cough medicine with a higher proof than the vodka sours), and there's this one place that I really like, though I can't explain why. I think it's the egg-like chairs hanging from the ceiling. They just fascinate me. I haven't had a chance to sit in one, as they are usually full of people, but I want to. It's also indecently crowded from eleven on, which is sucky, but the chairs--I want one. I want to hang it from my ceiling and watch TV from it.

*frowns* Of course, I'm all full of resentment that all these people found it after we did and so, I never got a chance to sit in the chair. Maybe I should go earlier.

I've always wondered what it would be like to pick up someone at a club, or go home with someone. I was raised on the danger factor of even trying shit like that, and once, many years ago, I did try it once and it was--well, weird. Weird in that, Best Friend at the Time took his ID and wrote down his address and telephone number and told him if he didn't have me home at a decent hour, she would kill him in his sleep. She was four ten, but she also was kind of scary. Trust me, he believed her.

You lose a lot of the omgspontenaity when people you pick up are frightened beforehand. nezsa just pushes them away and tells them go the fuck home, a much more direct say of saying, no, honey, you *can't* do that. I'm not sure if it's that she doesn't trust my judgement, or the suspicion in both of us that the last place you really want to *meet* someone is in a club. On the other hand, and this is a big 'if'--I can take care of myself, I think.

It's that little 'I think' that stops me. I don't trust my own judgement.

Eh, maudlin-ness.

Anyway, we had a pretty good time. Oslo and its very cool chairs, Element and it's huge crowd, and a third place that one of her friends' friend works at.

Acutally, this is where life segues into work related, but in a stange way.

I interviewed a guy on Friday, and I asked if anyone else lived in the household.

"Just my partner," he said, and I had to figure out a way to ask the Question. The question that decides how I calcuate benefits, basically. It's pretty simple, and if yo've been in the system long enough, you know how to answer it, but he didn't, kept looking at me blankly.

"Okay, do you buy your food together or separately?"

I'm not sure if he thought I wasn't clear on what 'partner' meant, and he proceeded to be educational, whereas all I wanted to do was figure out how to tell him that if he applied as a separate household, he was more likely to get benefits--but I can't *say* that, because that's leading the client. I can just imply heavily.

"Okay," I said slowly, after hearing the PSA, but he was nice, so I wasn't bitter, just getting frustrated. That's the one and only problem with unmarried couples--you really have to figure out a tactful way of saying 'please apply separately if either of you are working--we only *have* to put you together if you have a kid or married and the other income could screw up your chances'. "Here is what I mean. Is he *working*?"

The guy looks at me like I grew a second head. "Yes."

*sighs* "Okay. If he is working, *his income* counts toward the income limit. You said he works nights. You eat separately, don't you?"

Light dawned. "Oh. Yes, we eat separately."

Anyway, his last job was at the club we went to, and I tried to figure out if I was supposed to say hi to a client or not. Let's face it, your caseworker showing up at your club isn't something you want to have happen. We had just talked two days ago, so I figured he'd remember me (he liked my hair color and it was even more vivid now), and I didn't want him to think I was being snobby, but on the other hand...

I was interviewing him for state benefits. And I'm almost sure that his idea of a good time wouldn't be saying "Hey, Jenn! Guys, this is Jenn, she interviewed me for foodstamps, by the way, how's it going?"

*sighs* Only I could freak out about the ettiquette of this.

Luckily, it didn't come up, but I feel like I should have some kind of policy for this. Like, maybe a wave in general? A nod of recognition, leaving it up to the other person to decide how to handle it?

*groans* Must. Think.



In other news, *loves to svmadelyn. She sent me cookies! I WAS SENT COOKIES! OMG THEY ARE GOOD COOKIES! She sent me cookies and a CD of *very eclectic music*, which I am putting in the CD player *right now* and Bedazzled and chewy fruit snacks and a bag of travel sized hair products. *happy place* Pretty red nailpolish, too.

*happyhappyhappy*

Me and my happy cookies are going to bond now.


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(Deleted comment)
*nod* I think that's the approach I'm going to stick with. It's less stressful. And saves me from making my idea of witty conversation.

*facepalms* I am so scary when I'm trying to come off friendly. Friends pull me *away* when I start talking. People who aren't friends watch for teh entertainment value.


They're not supposed to have real lives, are they? Concurrently, you're not supposed to have a life they can see either.

I remember when students used to see me at concerts "Hey, that's Professor .... why on earth is she at a Dead show?" and I'd feel vaguely like I shouldn't be there, even if all I was doing was exactly what they were doing. Maybe they were mostly concerned I was grading their papers when I was stoned. (I never did that, ever. Did midterms once and they were interminable and that was that. Never again.)

Anyway, my generic rule of thumb was to follow their lead: if they said "hi" and were friendly, I responded in kind and if they ignored me, I followed suit. It works in a strange sort of way.

As long as they didn't comment on the contents of my grocery cart ...

Re: client etiquette

I remember when students used to see me at concerts "Hey, that's Professor .... why on earth is she at a Dead show?" and I'd feel vaguely like I shouldn't be there, even if all I was doing was exactly what they were doing. Maybe they were mostly concerned I was grading their papers when I was stoned. (I never did that, ever. Did midterms once and they were interminable and that was that. Never again.)

*dies laughing*

Anyway, my generic rule of thumb was to follow their lead: if they said "hi" and were friendly, I responded in kind and if they ignored me, I followed suit. It works in a strange sort of way.

I likes. Less requirement for me to be actively social. Passive is *good*.

As long as they didn't comment on the contents of my grocery cart ...

*bites tongue* Should I ask, or is it best left a mystery?

Re: client etiquette

*bites tongue* Should I ask, or is it best left a mystery?

Mysteries are fun, aren't they? as long as they're not crazy-making.

Mostly what you learn from a glance at my shopping cart is that my cats eat better than I do. But I dunno, I mean having your groceries examined is weirdly invasive, kinda like someone you don't know pawing through your underwear drawer or something. Last time my place got robbed (I lived in the ghetto when I was in grad school -- lots of space, very cheap, not very secure) all I could think was that a stranger had been through my stuff.

But yeah. shopping carts are like that for me. not that I have food issues or anything, nope, not me.

So you tell me, was the truth better than the mystery?

Yay! for the pretty hair. I adore my hairstylist. I used to get it cut by whomever and then I found the Jennifer - and she is the only person who's every cut my hair short and my cowlicks didn't immediately sproing out everywhere. So, she's it. I've dared her to move. I will hunt her down.

And I agree with burnitbackwards. Oh lo, long years ago when I worked for DFCS we were told to never acknowledge a client in public unless they spoke to us first.

Yay! for the pretty hair. I adore my hairstylist. I used to get it cut by whomever and then I found the Jennifer - and she is the only person who's every cut my hair short and my cowlicks didn't immediately sproing out everywhere. So, she's it. I've dared her to move. I will hunt her down.

Oh yeah. nezsa followed our hairdresser from place to place and kept saying, YOU GO HERE! HAPPY! and so I did. No one there speaks English and they play obscure telenovelas. I sit and let magic be worked on my hair. It's wonderous.

Though I was told there would be bumblebees in the telenovelas. Several someones had heartattacks but no bumblebees. It was sad. *sniffels*

Hrm... stylist? Hair Technician, what with the color and all? Person What Makes Me Look Faaaaaah-bulous? You could always just ask her :D

I've only been to... oh man, was it Sixth Street we were on? I don't even remember, by now :/ Let's just say, I've only been to a music club in Austin once, back in 93 or 94, and it was lots of fun but somehow we wound up seeing a band based out of Houston. *slaps forehead* (Well, I had fun, James was very pouty that entire trip. There's a reason I'm not married to James.)

Do you ever go see the bats? I've seen the bats, and the botanical gardens, and one club that might have been on Sixth Street. It's like I'm a tourist in my own state :D

I've only been to... oh man, was it Sixth Street we were on? I don't even remember, by now :/ Let's just say, I've only been to a music club in Austin once, back in 93 or 94, and it was lots of fun but somehow we wound up seeing a band based out of Houston. *slaps forehead* (Well, I had fun, James was very pouty that entire trip. There's a reason I'm not married to James.)

*dies laughing*

Do you ever go see the bats? I've seen the bats, and the botanical gardens, and one club that might have been on Sixth Street. It's like I'm a tourist in my own state :D

I haven't seen teh bats yet--I'm always down there at a bad time. But yes to the botanical gardens. *g* I'm a tourist everywhere. When I lived in Houston, I was scarily into going *everywhere* that there were Tourist Things. My friends were so ashamed of me.

Reminds me of something my landlady in London noted -- that people who live in a place tend never to go to the tourist attractions unless they're taking out-of-towner friends to them. I would add school field trips (lived in Dallas most of my life and the only times I've been to the School Book Depository were on a class field trip and when Dad was driving my Houston-native stepmother past the place) but basically agree. But it's a good thing to see this stuff.

Sixth Street suketh. Once I feel like venturing out again, I'll check out fifth street instead.

That's how she tempted me back out into the nightlife--she promised me people that weren't terrifying close to being jailbait. Oslo's (egg chairs!), Skyview, Element are good, and they just opened a really new place that some friends went to and liked, but we only saw it from outside while going back to the car. There's like, two places that we keep meaning to go to, but are so crowded it just takes to long to go in, but look--okay.

The parking sucks, though. Seriously so. I miss when she worked downtown and we could use the parking on seventh. It was so damn convenient.

It grew a surprising amount, and reds fade easily, which argues I really need to get some color-specific shampoo, and omg, am I taking my hair seriously?

Yes, you definitely should switch shampoos. My current favorite is Pantene (the color protection kind, I forget what it's called), with L'Oreal Color Vive coming in a close second.

My hairdresser mixes some brown and gold tones with my red dye because those colors stick better -- it keeps me from going back to my natural dirty blonde too quickly.

Oh, and I'm Emily, by the way. Nice to meet you. :)

You lose a lot of the omgspontenaity when people you pick up are frightened beforehand. nezsa just pushes them away and tells them go the fuck home, a much more direct say of saying, no, honey, you *can't* do that. I'm not sure if it's that she doesn't trust my judgement, or the suspicion in both of us that the last place you really want to *meet* someone is in a club. On the other hand, and this is a big 'if'--I can take care of myself, I think.

It's that little 'I think' that stops me. I don't trust my own judgement.


The word is "stalker". That's who I met at a club. *sigh* 7 long years of my life devoted to a what should have been a quickie (if I'd been smarter). Hindsight is 20/20, isn't it? Nothing scary happened that night, but it took me a loooooooooooong time to get rid of him.

Luckily, it didn't come up, but I feel like I should have some kind of policy for this. Like, maybe a wave in general? A nod of recognition, leaving it up to the other person to decide how to handle it?

For years I worked in Adult TBI Rehab, burned out - moved to Alcohol/Addiction Rehab and worked for 2 different non-profit organizations before totally burning out on helping my fellow man/woman/child at all. Now I don't even like letting other people ahead of me in line - I've given enough, dammit!

I'm only kidding. A bit. But the privacy thing did come up - as in I am in a public place and I see a client - how do I handle it? I don't want to be rude, but in this case, the choice of acknowledgement is absolutely the clients. I was in a situation in Memphis where the insurance job I had put me into daily contact with former clients who were employed in a back to work program in the building. How I knew these women was their business and their business only and I was always happy to talk to them - but only at their instigation, otherwise I only interacted with them as I would anyone in their position.

Thankfully, I was told how to handle this situation early on in my career - I think any AA or NA based program embraces the anonymous part and makes certain that all participants understand how it works. Your job has to be more difficult - mine was government funded - yours is government ran. I have no idea of the pain you live with.

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