太陽

Sometimes I feel as though the more I say I like her, the less I end up liking her; other times I feel as though saying it aloud everyday actually makes it more real. 

"How much?"

"As much as the sun"

I've given a variety of different answers to this question: as much as the whole world; as much as Japan; as much as the Pacific Ocean; as much as a ten-yen coin (I was in a bad mood). 

"The sun!  The sun! It's very big, yes?"

She beams.  Day after day she asks me the same thing, and day after day she reacts with the same delight.  I wish I could see a blueprint to the heart that responds with such undiminishing pleasure. 

But as a matter of fact, Yun is perfectly well aware.  She's perfectly well aware that the connection she and I share is not made up merely of the words we exchange.  Between us exists a world in which neither Japanese nor English nor Vietnamese intervenes.  It is a world that is unequivocally real--yet at the same time, seems impossible to believe.

- Aska Mochizuki, Spinning Tropics

HELLO MONDAY MORNING, WE MEET AGAIN

It's freezing cold, and the days of February bring back a nice bit of nostalgia.

It reminds me of being 15 and having slept outside of The Wiltern for three days in the cold, waiting for my favorite band (the front row is definitely worth it).   Just the nice sound of cars zipping past in the cold air, thinking about laying on the ground bundled up in blankets, smooshed next to some of the best people I've ever met in line. 

But instead I'm sitting outside at work.   Today's not so bad though, I'm pretty content.  As much as I become restless sitting at a desk, I kind of like the time to meditate and think about all the stuff I wanna do.

I've been thinking about the future (I basically live in the future), and I've decided that I'm definitely going to continue my education at Vidal Sassoon once I'm licensed.  The challenge of it is kind of enticing.  One of my teachers studied there in London, and his stories and hardwork really inspire me.  He had to bring in 6 random people off the street a day to use as models for school.  Not only is that really fucking hard, but also considering the fact that he was from America and didn't know anyone there, and still did it inspires me.   (also after the accident on saturday, I hope your hand is okay!!)

I'm shooting for the Sassoon school in Santa Monica, but in all honesty I'd rather go to London, too.  So I'm gonna try my best to make that happen (someone in London should adopt me for a couple months, hah).  
Aside from that, things are going well.  I'm all antsy today.  I really wanna do some hair, but alas school is tomorrow and not today.

EVERYONE HAVE A GOOD INSPIRATION FILLED DAY.  I'M GONNA GO BACK TO MY DESK!

MILK KILLS

JEREMY SCOTT AND BANAL CHIC BIZARRE.

These days with my world filled with all black (and obnoxious denim on casual fridays), Jeremy Scott's A/W 2011 collection made me smile.   I dig the dayglo pinks and yellows.  It's like a cotton candy acid explosion.  I also really fucking want that skeleton knit.

Otherwise, Banal Chic Bizarre's shoes have stolen my heart. 

In other news, I've finally cut off my security blanket.  I have no hair.    ..Well,  I have some hair left.  But most of it's gone.  It feels nice.  I've already been mistaken for a boy twice.  Again it feels nice.

And when I'm not such a poor bum, I'm gonna lighten it a bit more. I would show a picture now, but I'm just going to wait until it's perfect and white.

IT'S FRIDAY NIGHT AND IT'S RAINING LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW.

BECAUSE I WANT IT AND I CANNOT HAVE IT.

I WANT WHITE AND GRAY HAIR SO BADLY.

I'm done with this pale yellow.  Bring on the blue violets.

I'M ON THE RIGHT TRACK BABY I WAS BONELESS WING

In other news, I have the flu.

I actually spent all of Vegas with the flu.  I was popping dayquil and ibuprofen like a madman every 4 hours, and drinking all the water my stomach could hold.   I had fun, though. 

I was pissed off the first day because it was nothing but chaos and I was running a fever.  We basically got there, didn't have our rooms ready, were told to put our stuff in this luggage-storing room and then to go to their store to buy their stuff (but not before waiting 2 hours in a mile long line to pay for said stuff).   Then, when we finally got our room, there weren't enough beds to accommodate four people, and we went through hell trying to get some roll-away beds because they wouldn't upgrade our room.

The second day was MUCH better.  It was the sigh of relief.  The opening ceremony was cute, I liked it.

The third day was my favorite.  CLASSES.

Cutting class was fun.  While I feel like I didn't get everything I could have out of it, I did get a lot.  The class just ran way too fast.  With cutting advanced cuts like that, and using multiple techniques and geometries, I need a little more than five minutes to absorb and understand and then accurately cut a full segment.  I'm basically a slow cutter, but shoot me, 'cause I've been in school for 6 months.   Even so, I'm glad we got to go to that class 'cause I did learn a few things.

Color class was my jaaaam, though.  I love color.  I'm fast at applying color, so this class was fine for me.

It was really cool, because Lucie Doughty was teaching the class.  The only thing I didn't like about it was that she taught us how to paint coontails onto the hair.  Like scenegirl coontails circa myspace 2005.   She called it "feathering".  Since feathers are in right now.   Except they don't look like feathers in the hair, they look like ridiculous raccoon stripes.  

But otherwise, learning the Ombre technique was cool.  I still need to go rinse out my doll head, hah.

Closing ceremonies were badass.   Overall I had a lot of fun.

 Vegas bus ride in pajamas

 WE HAD A BIDET IN OUR HOTEL.

 cutting class

Oklahoma bitches

THERE IS BLOOD.   

So far, this isn't too spectacular.  I don't feel like I'm surrounded by "future professionals".   To be honest, it's like being at a concert and being stuck with the crazy people or something.   Crazy fucking girls everywhere.

On the brighter side, we have moderately decent seats, waiting for the opening ceremony, and a little orange bird tells me there will be balloon hair.  I am excited for the hair.


Las Vegas is bright and busy.

バス

It's currently...  almost 9pm.  I've yet to prepare at all for tomorrow. 

Nothing packed, nothing together, I have one load of laundry washing right now...  but as of right now I have no idea what I'm wearing or bringing to Las Vegas. 

I have a cold, and that was inevitable.  I always get sick right before I go on a trip, but I'm going to hope that my friends Sudafed and Ibuprofen help take care of this issue on the bus ride to Vegas.

BUS RIDE.

UGHGGHFG.   IT'S GONNA BLOW. 

BUT IT WILL BE WORTH IT.

Nothing more to say, laundry and packing calls to me.  I'll take lots of pictures.

Off to be up at 6AM.

early morning traffic groove

 

The 101 is jammed from LA up until my house, so I'm late to school this morning.  

It's either some kind of chemical spill or a big car accident.  Chemical spill sounds more exciting.  Biohazard.  Zombies.  Anyway.

I had weird dreams.  I dreamt the moment my head hit the pillow, I swallowed a strange looking pill.  I started seeing bright colors with weird paisley prints and lights, I was just tripping out.  Soon, the bright colors stop and I wake up in this weird house with people I've never seen before telling me to wait in the house for a little while, that people are coming to see us and it won't be too long.  I don't know where I am but I don't know where else I could go, so I stay there.  Soon, these helicopters and tanks pull up to the outside of the house, and the people tell me to get ready, because they're taking me away.  Soldiers came into the house and went through each room looking for people and when they found them, they grabbed them and loaded them onto the tanks.  I could overhear people talking and figured out that it was some sort of holocaust situation.  They were looking for people to take away and bring to camps. 

I run out of the room, slip past the soldiers, and find some sort of cellar basement.  There's wooden doors leading to the outside from the basement, so I climb up through them, just about to escape, and the soldiers are outside the door.  I'm caught.

The dream suddenly changes and I'm back at home.  It's been a year, and there's an envelope addressed to me on my desk that I've neglected.  I know it's been there for months, but I haven't opened it.  I pick it up and hold it for a little while.  I don't really want to open it, but I figure I should because it's been there for so long.

It's a memoir made of different slips of papers, with different quotes and sayings and different musings, little drawings, and things projected from your mind onto the paper.  

I read through each paper.  The ones at the beginning are almost irrelevant, and I wonder why they're in the envelope.  They're conversations with different people, things meant for others, writings not for me.  I keep going and going until I get close to the end, and I finally see my name written.

The message is sad, but it's nothing I didn't expect, so I'm not surprised.  I just read them over again and sit at my desk.  

I take all of the papers out of the envelope and walk over to my window, and I drop each paper out one by one.  The wind blows them away, and I walk back to my desk and pull out a new piece of paper.  The paper is blank, but I put it into the envelope anyway. 

And then I wake up.

School starts in 15 minutes!   I won't leave my house for another 15 minutes, though. 

In exactly a week from now, I'll be in Las Vegas for the hair show. We didn't really do much for ISSE, because we wanted to just mess around in the hotel room.   I'm excited for Caper, though.  It's going to be an adventure.

PS, good morning February.