Hair Salons

I love going to hair salons. Its not that I change my hairstyle very often (though I do change my hair colour quite a bit. I think it has become an addiction and an expensive one at that) or have that much hair to work with in the first place. But I think getting a hair cut has become a fetish of mine and I quite enjoy the experience of being in that chair, observing others get their hair cut and hopefully also be able to strike up an interesting conversation with the stylist and/or assistant (you know, the “xiao luo luo” that washes your hair). 

The thing about trying out a new hair salon is that you just never know what you are going to get. Of course I have a tendency to just randomly walk into one simply because I feel like it since being impulsive tends to run in my blood. But I generally feel that getting a hair cut depends on mood. Of course it involves having some time to spare just hanging around, walking back and forth before one finally decides to enter the salon. In general, I have been happy with the hair cuts, after all, how hard is it layering hair and making it a little shorter than before. But I am a little fussy with the hair colour. Getting the right shade, and the particular shade you like is an art. That’s why they have people in master colourist positions, because these people supposedly know what colour suites your tones the best. I went through the different phases in my life with hair colour. Now I just want something darker and preferably as close to my natural hair colour as possible. It’ll probably help with looking decent in an interview anyway. =)

Now, getting a good stylist, one who knows what you like, knows what to do and at the end still provide a wonderful conversation. I find that a tad bit hard with the Korean stylists in K-town at NYC (I tried 3 salons, I can’t communicate with them at all but that’s just how it is, can’t really complain about it.) In Singapore, I haven’t met someone I can actually do the “Legally Blond” thing with but I rather enjoy getting my hair cut by a particular stylist at a certain salon somewhere close to Central Singapore but not quite. He is funny, entertaining and doesn’t try to sell products as if its the end of his career if he does not sell the particular bottle of Potion 9 to the next customer that comes to him.

In the meantime, I am thinking of trying out a new salon when I get back to Singapore. My sis has told me I need to stay loyal. I will try, probably until I find another fun, random salon to walk into once again. Till then, I will try to be happy with this hair while secretly fathom having long, dark brown hair with a rugged feel. I know it doesn’t suite my face shape (which has ballooned an extreme amount that I am a little disgusted with myself) but at least I am happy whenever I imagine that such a particular hair belongs to me. 

I’m sorry that this is a terrible entry. I’ve been trying to be witty but after packing for an entire day, getting excited about my folks coming, I lack the energy or vocabulary to even try and come up with a decent entry. But I wanted to write anyway. It gives me a reason to be distracted from the latest drama that I am addicted to again. 

 

 

 

I am writing

Sooo….I am job hunting. Like the good graduate-to-be, its time to start paying off the MaD (aka Mum and Dad) scholarship or loan depending on how you see it for the next oh-so-many years. But for the first time, I am actually rather excited about anticipating the unknown future. To be honest, it feels more real, in an almost punch-in-your-face moment, to be graduating this time round, as if it were the first and only time I have ever walked across a stage in my square cap. I am furiously nervous and frightened at the thought of leaving being everything I have known and at the same time almost, just almost, quite ready to face the storm. Of course this means I have no idea what I am actually going to do when I return home. However as the song goes, come what may. 

But the gemini in me, which apparently is the one who spends the next three minutes being excited about one thing before life starts to slip into drudgery again, says that I should be writing a script. What kind of script exactly? I told my cousin-in-law-to-be (yes I am using a lot of hyphens in this entry but who cares about some grammatical correctness when technically blogs are meant to vent about the self as the primordial axis) that I was going to write idol drama just the other day. Yes the kind of popular culture that is most unacademic in every single way, and ridiculously addictive for those who are unable to recognise its ultimate agenda to take over the world or at least Asia. She laughed in the most hearty manner and for the split second I thought I was going to be the one on mockery display. But it was all a good joke, no harm done until I really sat down and thought about writing it.

This was the outline I came up with after fidgiting in my nice arm chair for about 5 minutes: 
So there’ll be this girl, after all which idol drama does not center around a girl, of most ordinary terms. “Ordinary” can be read in plenty of ways, thus lots of room for character to develop. We can make her just really poor and hardworking, amazingly naive but cute or maybe the girl next door whom all the guys in the neighbourhood are head-over-heels in love with. You get it…something along those lines. 

Next, the male lead has to present himself as THE alpha male. Nothing more, nothing less. He commands the show because he can drag the girl around like a little rag doll and she’ll secretly enjoy being treated like that even though she pretends to be mad at him. He must be able to make her smile and cry within seconds because he is endlessly witty but cluelessly insensitive. There must be some sister-like character that tags around him thinking that she will one day be his wife, becoming his burden when the male and female lead eventually try and get together. 

So you see, I do have a premise. Or at least a couple of characters to work with. Throw in the usual mix of good friends, anxious parents and wisdom dispensing personnel, this script writing thing could fall into place. The lack of ingenuity might serve as tiny problem, but its only this big, I’m sure it will work out. If not, I can always run off to finally get a real job. Some thing that includes my sister trying to make it as a singer/actress of some sort WHEN she gets discovered and requests for me to be her sole manager….

I relish in daydreaming. Its a luxurious past time when you don’t have to worry about some thesis anymore. So this is good bye school and hello to the rest of my life.