So I'm thinking I should be calling this blog "The bitchy esthetician" cause that's how I feel these days, but I'd be ripping off this guy (who I love btw):
http://thebitchywaiter.com
My job fucking sucks.
It almost is enough to make me hate it, but I will not let those greezy lebs steal my soul after stealing out of my pocket.
There is ZERO incentive with that company. (I will stop short of saying the name of the place, that way they can never say I was slandering them! HA! Take that ********!!!) ZERO incentive. Even when I manage to sell a bunch of products I look at my check and I'm not even payed commission on them. When all you do all is day is groupon deals -that are basically half priced or less- you cannot earn commission. You could be busy 9 straight hours without a lunch and STILL not take home commission. Fucking bullshit. They literally are stealing money thats not there right out of my bank account. I could be making so much more but instead I have no choice but to make their pittance of an hourly rate. No raises offered, they don't pay you for the time spent in classes to benefit them, and charge high prices with the place crumbling around the customers. No working facial steamer. In a spa. Wtf. Not right.
To top it off, these half price customers are mostly the worst type of customer you'll ever have. Except you have them everyday. They complain, they don't tip, they have fucking packages so you have to see them for 4 whole fucking treatments, they are rude and like I said, either don't tip or tip you once like $5-$10 and then each time they return to you for another treatment in their package, they don't tip because they figured they already tipped you once, they've given you enough. How else will they get all of that for almost free?
Cheap people disgust me. They think they are so smart pocketing that money that should go to the person who just doted on them for an hour or 3, they will build a castle of that money and sit in there all alone and hated and miserable on the inside. They would wipe their own asses with that money before they properly tip the waiter or the esthetician or stylist or whatever. I hate them, I don't want them as friends, I wouldn't date a cheapo, I think they are the poison of the earth.
Their greed shines through their eyes, with steadfast resolve, an un-penetrable ugliness with the strict goal of saving a buck.
But really it's the company allowing all of these cheap people in in the first place, they are the ones doing this to me. They don't have to actually do the work so they don't care. The salon business is a tough go for anyone no matter how talented. It's not an east business to get rich in, but these guys seem to have it down. Steal from the employee, pocket a big check. Boom! Daddy's got enough money to support all the families in his village back in Lebanon, getting money off the backs of Canadians and the immigrants he pays slightly more than the Canadians. But lets not enough touch that one.
Ugh I almost feel like I just punched a pillow for an hour and am almost totally exhausted. I just am tired most of the time these days. Tired of bullshit. I'm about to stop all this working for someone else and go work for myself again. Being your own boss is the shit. I only want to work for Erin. She's nice and she won't make me work till 9pm or take a cut on commission, she will make me work hard but reward me for it! Wow what a concept. I can't wait to work for me again.
I only have a couple of shifts left, but my anger has been growing. It's all I can do to suck it up and put a smile on my face for the hope that I'll make a decent tip. That's right, that's why we smile, we've got motives of our own. :)
K blogeshere, friends and stalkers alike, this bitchy beauty school star has to go to sleep, to wake up and make cheap people feel special all over again.
-E.
Wednesday, 26 March 2014
Saturday, 15 March 2014
Anxiety cat
I don't always get all emo on Hex in the city so if you're interested in some of my deep shit then today you won the blog blab lottery.
Anxiety is a huge part of my life. Everyday I experience anxiety, sometimes its good anxiety, sometimes bad, and nowadays most of it is good.
But there was a time when anxiety ruled my life. You could say there was good reason, with my illness and the interferon, but when is it enough worrying and you just get to calm down?
With anxiety, never. A little worrying brings about a whirlwind of unease, whips into an avalanching tornado with you in the centre. It is all enveloping, all encompassing, and there are no thoughts to put it aside. It just rules every moment of your day.
At my worst I was trembling and my heart was pounding so hard I couldn't catch my breath, my muscles would seize up so hard that they would hurt but I couldn't relax the muscle, I couldn't talk without sounding like I was shivering. I wasn't sad, but I wasn't happy and I wasn't angry but I was nervous and it wouldn't stop and I couldn't sleep, I would clean until 3 am, busy my hands with anything, and let my environment soak up my unease.
Though my anxiety was worse when I was sick, it was the first time I really realized that it has been a problem for me my entire life. I can remember being anxious at 6 years old. I didn't understand why some things upset me, and that I was projecting feelings of anxiety on to objects and images, when I saw these things it made me sad, and nervous, VERY nervous.
I saw that these things didn't upset other kids like it did me. It took me 25 years to really sort out why things and places and images made me upset.
My childhood was wonderful. There was never any real need for me to worry; though we weren't rich my brother and I had everything we needed, lots of love and parents in a good relationship. We weren't exposed to abuse or anything bad but weren't in a bubble either.
When my uncle, my fathers twin came to live with us from Ontario when I was about six, he was already very sick with HIV. I could see he looked exactly like my dad in many respects, but there was something different. He was sick and needed to go to the hospital, my brother and I couldn't make too much noise when he was sleeping and sometimes he had night terrors. I loved my uncle and cherished every second I got to be around him. He was so charismatic and witty, an amazing artist, my dads identical twin, he almost seemed magical to me. He is basically the reason why I am a power fag hag.
It was in those days of being too young to understand why my Uncle Bertie's disease wouldn't go away and he could come to my school and play with me at the park that my anxiety really formed, and I began the projection of my feelings, and that has continued to this day.
When Uncle Bertie died when I was 10, I had seen it coming. I watched the progression of his disease
until he was too sick for us to see him. Then one morning my mother told us he was gone. I don't remember crying then, but over the next few years I grieved and was absolutely upside down. I guess what teen isn't in many ways totally messed up but I was angrier, meaner, but also sadder and more nervous inside than most if not all the kids I was around in school, and in my family. I was full of true teen angst, but there was something stronger than that underneath. I was never one to manifest my feelings with self harm, I turned it inwards until I exploded like a bottle rocket. Then I understood I was angry but still didn't recognize my anxiety.
Playing violin brought my anxiety to a new plane altogether. I could suddenly channel all these feelings into my instrument and literally make it my voice. All that was inside could now be expressed, and I could give life and beauty to something with my own emotion. Well skill had something to do with it too I guess. My violin is still my best medicine next to writing, and regular playing keeps me calmer. Performing was one place that the anxiety could make or break me, if the physical symptoms were present sometimes it just froze my fingers and made them feel heavy, but just enough anxiety and I could play at my very best, using all my skills and emoting perfectly through the music, and I felt like my fingers were flying all by themselves. It made me the confident person I am today, knowing I could over power my anxiety to actually make it work for me.
Now just because anxiety has been an issue for me, doesn't mean that I don't want it. Anxiety is what keeps me going in life, the regular kind of anxiety I get which is not a bad anxiety, but not always the best either, which pushes me to do better. It's what gets me out for a run, to pursue new hobbies or new career opportunities. It scares me to think of myself being a flat line of calm all the time, that's just not who I am at this point.
These days my anxiety is up but its not a bad anxiety. It's the excited, even giddy nervousness of moving in with my love but also to a new lifestyle altogether on the farm. Hex in the styx is going to be different, but it's the kind of different I'm ready for. It's within my hour comfort zone so it's just far enough away. I know once I get there I will be much calmer but right now I'm up too late with the gears turning away. I am trying to put together a business, get a new day job AND move at the same time, so my anxiety forces me to make mental check lists till 2am.
Everything that put my anxiety into overdrive in my life, experiences like my uncles illness and death and my own illness and dads illness and divorce, whatever, has been worth it. It may have made me wobbly but it gave me stronger legs to stand on in the end. It's given me power to overcome. Even if I had to pop a few ativan along the way to keep me from flying way off the tracks, I still got to a place where I could use my anxiety to help myself. As weird and backwards as that almost sounds, that's what anxiety is.
Now how about a little Anxiety cat? If you don't have anxiety, you just might after you look at a few anxiety cat memes. I didn't make these up in case you have a life and don't look at cat memes several times a week. Ok every second day. Ok everyday.
Anxiety is a huge part of my life. Everyday I experience anxiety, sometimes its good anxiety, sometimes bad, and nowadays most of it is good.
But there was a time when anxiety ruled my life. You could say there was good reason, with my illness and the interferon, but when is it enough worrying and you just get to calm down?
With anxiety, never. A little worrying brings about a whirlwind of unease, whips into an avalanching tornado with you in the centre. It is all enveloping, all encompassing, and there are no thoughts to put it aside. It just rules every moment of your day.
At my worst I was trembling and my heart was pounding so hard I couldn't catch my breath, my muscles would seize up so hard that they would hurt but I couldn't relax the muscle, I couldn't talk without sounding like I was shivering. I wasn't sad, but I wasn't happy and I wasn't angry but I was nervous and it wouldn't stop and I couldn't sleep, I would clean until 3 am, busy my hands with anything, and let my environment soak up my unease.
Though my anxiety was worse when I was sick, it was the first time I really realized that it has been a problem for me my entire life. I can remember being anxious at 6 years old. I didn't understand why some things upset me, and that I was projecting feelings of anxiety on to objects and images, when I saw these things it made me sad, and nervous, VERY nervous.
I saw that these things didn't upset other kids like it did me. It took me 25 years to really sort out why things and places and images made me upset.
My childhood was wonderful. There was never any real need for me to worry; though we weren't rich my brother and I had everything we needed, lots of love and parents in a good relationship. We weren't exposed to abuse or anything bad but weren't in a bubble either.
When my uncle, my fathers twin came to live with us from Ontario when I was about six, he was already very sick with HIV. I could see he looked exactly like my dad in many respects, but there was something different. He was sick and needed to go to the hospital, my brother and I couldn't make too much noise when he was sleeping and sometimes he had night terrors. I loved my uncle and cherished every second I got to be around him. He was so charismatic and witty, an amazing artist, my dads identical twin, he almost seemed magical to me. He is basically the reason why I am a power fag hag.
It was in those days of being too young to understand why my Uncle Bertie's disease wouldn't go away and he could come to my school and play with me at the park that my anxiety really formed, and I began the projection of my feelings, and that has continued to this day.
When Uncle Bertie died when I was 10, I had seen it coming. I watched the progression of his disease
until he was too sick for us to see him. Then one morning my mother told us he was gone. I don't remember crying then, but over the next few years I grieved and was absolutely upside down. I guess what teen isn't in many ways totally messed up but I was angrier, meaner, but also sadder and more nervous inside than most if not all the kids I was around in school, and in my family. I was full of true teen angst, but there was something stronger than that underneath. I was never one to manifest my feelings with self harm, I turned it inwards until I exploded like a bottle rocket. Then I understood I was angry but still didn't recognize my anxiety.
Playing violin brought my anxiety to a new plane altogether. I could suddenly channel all these feelings into my instrument and literally make it my voice. All that was inside could now be expressed, and I could give life and beauty to something with my own emotion. Well skill had something to do with it too I guess. My violin is still my best medicine next to writing, and regular playing keeps me calmer. Performing was one place that the anxiety could make or break me, if the physical symptoms were present sometimes it just froze my fingers and made them feel heavy, but just enough anxiety and I could play at my very best, using all my skills and emoting perfectly through the music, and I felt like my fingers were flying all by themselves. It made me the confident person I am today, knowing I could over power my anxiety to actually make it work for me.
Now just because anxiety has been an issue for me, doesn't mean that I don't want it. Anxiety is what keeps me going in life, the regular kind of anxiety I get which is not a bad anxiety, but not always the best either, which pushes me to do better. It's what gets me out for a run, to pursue new hobbies or new career opportunities. It scares me to think of myself being a flat line of calm all the time, that's just not who I am at this point.
These days my anxiety is up but its not a bad anxiety. It's the excited, even giddy nervousness of moving in with my love but also to a new lifestyle altogether on the farm. Hex in the styx is going to be different, but it's the kind of different I'm ready for. It's within my hour comfort zone so it's just far enough away. I know once I get there I will be much calmer but right now I'm up too late with the gears turning away. I am trying to put together a business, get a new day job AND move at the same time, so my anxiety forces me to make mental check lists till 2am.
Everything that put my anxiety into overdrive in my life, experiences like my uncles illness and death and my own illness and dads illness and divorce, whatever, has been worth it. It may have made me wobbly but it gave me stronger legs to stand on in the end. It's given me power to overcome. Even if I had to pop a few ativan along the way to keep me from flying way off the tracks, I still got to a place where I could use my anxiety to help myself. As weird and backwards as that almost sounds, that's what anxiety is.
Now how about a little Anxiety cat? If you don't have anxiety, you just might after you look at a few anxiety cat memes. I didn't make these up in case you have a life and don't look at cat memes several times a week. Ok every second day. Ok everyday.
-E.
Tuesday, 11 March 2014
Best of the photo art
I make a fair amount of photo art. Fucking stamp apps take up a shit ton of memory on my phone, and the amount of photos grow when I get bored. I gotta delete some of this shit but ill post it on here so I feel like the best of the best get their exhibit.
Sushi party, summer of 2013.
If you know the cookie party song from the Sarah Silverman show you gotta sing it like that.
Endless sushi stamps on line camera.
The photo was originally taken on my 29th birthday, again at a sushi restaurant, but I overused the sushi stamps for sushi party, sushi parrrrteeee.
This photo is obviously awesome, yeah so maybe I was high, but I think Lucas always looks like Jesus.
Me and my classy ladies surrounded by baskets of kittens.
I made this one for these two lovebirds. They didn't seem to love it like I do!
A couple of hams.
I think we were out for Johns birthday. We had a few bottles of wine and left there with anime eyes.
And finally- like death and taxes, cat photo art is always certain.
-E.
Friday, 7 March 2014
Decora Satanica
I haven't posted any crafts I've made in a while. Here's one of my all time favorite satanic crafts I made for my friend Jess's bday a couple of weeks ago.
I ended up making two, one for me.
It's a year rounder kind of wreath.
-E.
Saturday, 1 March 2014
Rehash
re·hash
verb
rēˈhaSH/
- 1.put (old ideas or material) into a new form without significant change or improvement.
This is TOTALLY my song today, I'm in the middle of a Journey rock out.
http://youtu.be/lftcCDTwmw4
I included the one with lyrics in case you are stoned and introspective right now like me.
YESSS!!!
So I didn't get to finish, there are so many more pet peeves in the world of Hex.
This first one is weird, but it's an aesthetician thing.
ENYA!
How this complicates things is that I love and hate Enya. The music was made to relax you, put you in a trance like state, fall asleep. Her melodies are enchanting, which is all well and good if you're having a spa day, but if you're working and susceptible to the relaxing flowing harmonies of for any reason like being tired or overworked lets say, after "Only Time" plays twice you are hypnotized and staying sharp and fast gets more and more difficult. Enya is the aestheticians krytonite.
I had Enya songs in my head all day and night the other day and spent most of the work day staring into oblivion with hypno swirls in my eyes.
Whats worse than enya though is the duck sounds followed by an equally hypnotizing asian sounding tune, just as sure to leave you with swirly hypno eyes.
Have a listen! See what this does to you.
You could be asleep in 3 minutes and won't finish this blog.
http://youtu.be/54XztbNJ87g
Hmm heres another, being treated like a free taxi cab.
Not too many people take advantage too hard but theres always someone who takes your good will for granted. I didn't' have a car till my late 20's, and I took the shoelace express damn near everywhere I went, busses and cabs when I had the cash to spare. I never really asked for rides, I waited for people to offer them to me.
It's not a magic carpet you hop on to miraculously with no effort get to your destination, I always got that, at least once I was out of my parents house of course. Moms ARE taxis.
It seems some just don't see what trouble it would be to whip you and your friend to two different places on opposite sides of the city. I did it a few times when I first got my licence and took an hour and a half out of my day, fuck that.
I've offered nameless people rides, say from work when it's cold, but the next week it may not be as cold and I may be tired, you don't know unless I offer.
People who don't shower and force me to smell their reek. I have to touch and work around you, this is what I do.
Not cool and needs no more elaboration.
With all that I complain on here, you'd think I would be in jail for assault or something, but the psychopath lies DEEEEEEP down and I prefer to project a happy fun loving facade. I laugh a lot. So much that sometimes you can tell people think I'm a little over the top. I then can switch and be very quiet and introverted, then people are really wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
Well according to the psychologist I saw after my life was ravaged by melanoma then divorce, NOTHING!!! (now.) I'm healthy, physically and mentally, and I have to attribute that to not being afraid to say whats on my mind, with no fear, and also my ability to call out bullshit. I guess I just feel like those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. Life's too short to go to bed with a bottle full of feelings.
So really, theres no apologies for what you feel, ever.
I have a bunch of people coming over here to celebrate my friend Jessor's birthday, gotta go! We've got chocolate cake and beeeeeeer.
Lurve yers!
-E.
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