Musings…

Over last weekend I had a pretty horrific experience with a hair salon. Late last Saturday, I had a little bit too much time in my hands and being stuck around the SS2 area, I found myself loitering in of all places, Atrium, after Mr Smartypants told me it was the way to go if I had a few hours to kill. Unfortunately, I finished coursing through every corner of Atrium within 15 minutes – there was nary anything interesting to see at all.

Alas.

So I thought, I needed a hair treatment pretty badly because after gallivanting under the sun and in sea water in Phuket two weeks back, my highlights were quite so wracked.

            I scouted around for a bit, and in the end, passed by this salon that had a few of its workers standing out in front of its door, beckoning potential customers to come in. Hmhh, a good marketing gimmick, I thought, as the lady explained about what I could do and checked at a few strands of my curls. And it didn’t cross my mind at all that the only reason they were standing outside was because there was hardly any customers at all inside. Being in the cosmetic/ haircare line, I thought, how wrong could it get? I just need them to slap some treatment cream on my hair and put it under the steamer and walla, I was done for!

            Boy, was I wrong. As soon as I sat down, I had shampoo poured onto my scalp as though to trap me from leaving. We haven’t even discussed about which treatment I was going to take. And I haven’t discussed if I wanted to have it done here! This feminine guy came out and explained in his long winded way about something called the color treatment. It was 3X more expensive than the normal treatment for damaged hair. After contemplating for a while, I declined. Didn’t need a color treatment, I told him, since I was planning to get another highlight soon. The man didn’t look pleased and handed me over to this young Malay girl, who told me she just ruined her own hair a day ago because she over-timed the rebonding treatment. Oh, very reassuring indeed.

            And so the treatment cream was applied none too gently, and the steamer used. Soon, it was time to rinse and style before I could be on my way. Sadly, that was not to be. The lady apparently did not know how to style wavy hair, could you believe that? She COMBED my hair with a small-toothed comb for chrissake! And then, she was blowing with the hairdryer as though I had straight hair. So I told her, no, you’ve got to use some styling gel and crunch from the bottom up. Halfway through that, Mr Feminine arrived and started to take over. It was so obvious they were chasing for time because the girl told me they closed for the day at seven and it was already 745.

            Oh, Mr Feminine, he was NOT gentle at all, I tell you. This crazy **** pulled here and twisted there as though he was playing with a mop instead of a human head. While working, he asked the Malay girl to join in. “Follow what I’m doing,” he said. And she did. Only she was this SLOW learner who couldn’t adapt what she saw. So in the end, she styled small curls for me on the right side of my head, while the man styled big waves on the left side of my head. I was livid when he even had the cheek to ask me to check how it was in the mirror when it was all over. Like was he blind? Or downright retarded? I had a lion’s mane, the curls were all so blown out of proportion. Not only that, right side was small curls and left was big wave.

            Seeing my reaction, he had me wash off all the styling cream at the back to restyle again. To cut a long story short, we went through that FOUR f88king times before I lost my cool and started to show my ogre face and growled so hard even he balked. Ok, I did not growl. But imagine this, by then, I had been in the salon for 2 hours for a treatment that only took 15 minutes. I was freezing so much because the Atrium Management decided to switch the centralized air conditioning to Arctic mode. And I was fuming angry. Mr Feminine would not even oblige with shampooing and conditioning my hair even though I asked him. The idiot put enough styling gel on my head to kill an entire colony of ants! The strands were so hard and sharp they were enough to poke through a marshmallow I swear to God. And he was so rough that half my hair ended up on the floor instead of revitalized.

            In the end, I had to restyle my own hair, standing up to do the work with water dripping down my clothes to make my blood freeze more. I was nagging a lot and was so irritated I couldn’t even express myself properly because it was so cold my teeth were chattering and my facial muscles were twitching beyond my control! Ranting mad, I asked for a discount and that fool had the cheek to tell me, normal price applies. For his wretched lousy ass DISservice and unprofessionalism, I had to pay him the normal price. If I were younger and bolder, I would have told him to his face to have a stick up his arse. Incompetent fool, I hope your business fold up! I gave him the eye, used milder words of course but something that had the same acidity, flipped my dead hair and walked off. So much for a treatment when all the blowing and drying and rewashing and restyling have negated the effect!!

            So truly, if any of you are around the area and are thinking to do anything at all with your hair, be it style or treat or cut, watch out for this signboard WAYPOINT STYLISTS. Once you see it, pick up your socks and bolt hundred miles and hour in the opposite direction. Even if you totally have nothing to do in Atrium and wanted to kill off hours like I did last Saturday, and even if all the other hair salons are closed, refrain please. Otherwise, you’d learn the meaning of the saying “idle mind breeds evil” very intimately, and that I guarantee.

I stumbled upon a fairly meaningful saying along the weekend that provoked quite some thoughts in me. It goes simply “You would know that one has grown up once that person starts living his life for somebody else but himself.” In my current situation, I suppose it quite strikes a personal chord. These past few years especially I’ve done quite a bit of growing up myself, almost to the point where I felt aged with a creaking old soul trapped inside a youthful body. Guess some things just couldn’t be helped, though I am not complaining too much about it.

            Being able to live my life for somebody else in my case has granted me the ability to see life from many, many more different perspectives and to bow to humility once needed instead of always wanting to sow seeds of pride and appear the ‘right’ or ‘victorious’ party. It’s true perhaps that maturity strips a person of most arrogance known to youth – at least for the wise and deep thinkers.

            In adolescence and youth, the concept of immortality and invincibility applies somewhat. Choices, choices everywhere, and you live for no one but yourself. You are liable only for yourself. Somewhere in between adolescence and adulthood, we are trained to start making important decisions for ourselves. Which sports/club/societies to choose? Which college to go to? Which courses to take? Which career path to move towards? Whom to love? Whom to befriend? And the list goes on, the key word always being

ME

,

ME

and ME. My choices, my preference, my decisions.

            I thought that I was at least matured enough for my age all those years back…only to realize right now when I look back, how much the opposite I was, really. Young and impulsive, I was quick to jump to conclusions and despite being wrong, would hesitate to apologize. I had a narrow perspective somewhat and indulged in a lot of judgment based on my own standards, being unable to see the bigger picture in life, and was idealistic enough to have an expectation in life and everything that surrounds it. At least the perfectionist in me made it such. It’s like if life was this obstacle race down the tracks, I had a tendency of walking past the obstacles instead of jumping across it like I’m supposed to if there was so much as a thought that I couldn’t clear that obstacle. Because I had choices in almost every aspect of my life, be it in love, or studies or friendship, I was arrogant enough to say, “Screw this if it’s not working my way. If I can’t go down this way, I could find other ways to get to where I am going.” There seldom was a need to sit down and clarify if I could indeed have managed that obstacle. Or whether it was worth it to do so. Needless to say, many rash decisions were made, some of which may have wounded people very close to me. Very regrettable indeed.

            I guess a part of me is happy that the river of time had brought me forward to be the person that I am today, a person who no longer lives for herself, but for some other people whose lives are intermingled with mine. Still far from being perfect, of course, but at least I realize now that choices that are made no longer involve the word ME but the word US. Another person in a way or another, depends on me, needs me to be level headed and responsible in everything that I do. And that leaves very little space to be impulsive and irrational. In most cases, circumstances require me to place their importance above my own. My actions or decisions would have a great impact on them apart from myself, that at times, even though I yearn so much to do the things that I want to do, I have to bow to my conscience and do what’s best for the people I hold close to my heart.

            As I grow older, I begin to understand that as I strive to be a better and more conscientious person, many obstacles in life can be dealt with the correct way (in analogy of an obstacle race, an obstacle is cleared by jumping over it instead of walking by it or not clearing it at all) if only that person takes the time, patience and effort to iron it out. And the further you move along your journey in life, the more you are obliged to stick to a particular road that you have chosen and deal with everything that comes your way, by hook or by crook. If you’ve got to face a problem, you’ve got to face it. Bottom line. There is no such thing as sweeping it all under the carpet and pretending that it isn’t there or worse, being the escapist and running away from it. Even if it includes you swallowing your pride, or taking a step back to have it rectified, you’ve just got to do it. I suppose that as long as you realize somehow that in most cases, ‘losing’ or being the more humble one grants you more triumph as compared to otherwise, you’d know that you’re somewhere there in terms of growing up.

Oh my gawd oh my gawd oh my gawd…today is such a hoppingly beautiful day! I will never see Thursdays the same again, honestly. I’m feeling rather euphoric, as though I have my feet floating a few meters above the surface of the ground haha. I’ve just received a phone call that changed it all! The biggest single order of the year for our company, and it is set to repeat every month or two… Oh, I’m elated (!!!!!!That must be the understatement of the year!!!!) Wheewww…yeah, the figures are still rolling in my head and my smile’s getting wider by the second as I calculate the profits in the making…I’m quite sure if this holds up, we would be able to achieve the company target, which seemed rather bleak and unachievable when it was first announced…so that would mean a bigger paycheck and a fatter bank account for all of us the coming year for the profit sharing. YAHOOOOooooooo!!! (!*(@&*&$^*&!%@&^$%@#—-no words can fill in these spaces because joy is sooooo explosive u can’t believe it. It transcends words I tell you!!! Don’t anybody try too hard to take a jab at me today, hahaha, coz you’d fail. Miserably. :oD)

It’s happened! Finally. I’m undeniably, irreversibly, unmistakably 26. NNNOOOOoooooooooooooo!!!! *Sob*Sob* I’ll wait a while more for the hefty lunch and cake to settle down a bit in the stomach before I completely mull over being a year older…like my smarty pants brother said: I’m one year closer to THE END. How reassuring indeed! Here the throat goes *gulp* and I choke a little, wondering whether to laugh or balk at the fact.

            And what a way to start the year too! My first day as a mature, wise 26 year old with a good head on her shoulders almost became a nightmare when I accidentally and/or stupidly left my Mini O2 in the ladies room of the Japanese Restaurant RAKUZEN in Subang after lunch today. And so, I was sitting on the bowl trying to wear my shoes and pee at the same time (since you have to take off your shoes to enter the restaurant) when this ermmm…chatty customer called asking the question she has asked me for at least three times everyday since last week…I couldn’t wait to get her off the phone…finish my business and hurry off to head back to the office with my colleagues who were waiting for me. Unfortunately my wise head on these shoulders wasn’t so wise after all…having done with the conversation, I had the cow sense to put my mini on the dumpster where u dump your feminine pads (I know, YUKK)…and walked off as though there was nothing at all missing…until an hour later when my sixth sense started to kick in and by GOD, I rummaged my bag like a madwoman to find my precious L O S T! I swear the cold baby octopus I had earlier for appetizers came to life and was jumping madly in the cavity of my stomach. Oh, and it’s good too that I’ve mentioned the name of the restaurant in this blog…please everyone who loves Jap food…visit Rakuzen…because I can’t thank the waitress enough for being so honest as to wait for my call and safekeep my baby until I found my wise head back and rushed through rain and traffic to reclaim it. Thank god for honesty, really! Oh, and lesson number 1 of the year: NEVER MULTITASK, especially if you have just turned a sobbing year older!

            Oh, other than that, just want to thank all of you darlings out there who remembered it was my big day (though not so big anymore) yesterday. Thanks for all the wishes, thanks for all the thoughts, thanks for the calls, thanks for the quirky cards, and for the jabs on my age hawhawhaw and above all, thanks for commemorating the fact that on this day, 26 years ago, a little brat was born to add to the world her spice, color and quirks. Heheh…God bless everybody and beeee happy! Cheerios!

Today is a rat-assed day. Cargo late due to communication breakdown, delivery dates screwed, customers fuming and ranting, principals stinking, boss’s head spinning, telephones ringing nonstop, Eunice bloated with bad gas because of all the pent up shit. That’s what happens when u go into war without ammunition (rather you have them taken away from you because customers are KINGS - *&^@#&^%!@!!! *yeah right*), being the frontline defense of your company. Imagine the purchasers losing their heads so much they tell to your face to shut up and at the same time, demand an answer as to why, why, why and you are trying your level best to provide them with exactly that. Like hellooooo…here are your answers - if only you’d stop snorting and roaring and howling the way you do for one goddamn second. I mean,cut me some slack eh?…honestly, what’s a conversation for if it has to be one sided good lord in heaven. Go speak to the moomoos and mekmeks and cawcaws out in the barnyard… I soooo give up. In retaliation I’m going to sit in the office and do nothing! Absolutely nothing at all. I’m going to sit here and remember to breathe and blink until it is time to leave. RAAAGGGHHHHH!!!! From the bottom of my sinking heart, thank God it’s Freaky Friday!!!!! >.<