Sights & Sounds from Saturday at a Salon

I have two jobs. If I didn't, I may not be able to afford things like food and cable and electricity and iTunes.

Though I really dispise giving up my Saturdays, especially in the summer, it's not all bad. I like the people I work with. I like the fact they are all in their 30s and 40s and gay or pregnant and treat this place as a mini high school that is actually the center of the universe.

The drama is constantly roaring strong - Chrissy refused to cut Naz's hair. Patrick (Patsy) is always telling the other stylist which Redken colors to use - and they don't like it. I mean, what does he know?! Michael's iPod is always playing effing country music, and who does he think he is? (the owner, that's who) People gossip and stab each other in the back and I love it.

A few weeks ago I told my boss I was resigning my post at said salon at the end of May. In my heart of hearts, I would spend each weekend filled with street festivals, bike riding and beaches. But alas, today I realized that just wasn't in the cards - the credit card bills, that is. I am now destined to spend a few more months or years gossiping with clients, talking hair shows and learning about new waxing techniques.