Beauty, Business, communication, Hair Care, health and wellness, Uncategorized, Women, writing

Tales of Truth – The Christmas Chronicles

When my daughter was younger…(I say when she was younger – not little – little makes her sound like she was a Polly Pocket. Also, my family is vertically challenged so “little” has a wee bit of a sting), one of the Christmas songs she would sing (a lot) was “Santa Claus is Comin’ to town”. As you know, I manage a retail shop/Salon and it is the Christmas season. It seems many people have forgotten that “He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake.”.

– The phone rings. “Good After…” is all I got out. “Yeah Hi, where the hell is your store?” is what I hear. I give the shops location and am blessed with the response “Why couldn’t I find it in the phone book?!” and then they hung up….fa la la la la, la, la, la, la.

– We have a Christmas tree up in our Salon. It is a nice tree. At least once a day I am asked “Why do you have a tree up in the Salon” as Christmas music is playing in the background.

– A woman came in with jet black hair that she had colored at home with a box dye from the drug store. She had decided she wanted to go blonde, by herself, at home. I told her that wasn’t the best of ideas and told her the complications that may and will arise. She stared at me, flipped what was left of her hair, smacked her gum and said “It’s Christmas and this is what I want. I want to be blonde so let me buy my stuff and keep your opinions to yourself…ok?!?!”. …if she makes it to blonde it truly is a Christmas miracle.

– “You are a liar!” – what is said to me when I tell someone an item is on back order and I don’t know when it is arriving. – People, please, for the last time, I don’t work in the warehouse and am not in charge of Β shipping and receiving…and seriously…I am not going to lie about a product being on back order…about your choice of hair color…maybe.

– “Can you give me the model numbers of all the flat irons you sell so I can look up their reviews on line?” – a call I get at least once a week. I sell 15 different models.

– “Will my husband like the smell of Joico shampoo more than Sebastian shampoo?”. When I answer that I don’t know I am always asked “why?”…this is why my jaw line is so firm…forcing back laughter all day keeps the jaw line nice and firm.

– A grown woman pouted and exclaimed “Come on!!! Life is so unfair! Nothing is going my way!”. Her cries of desperation were not because of a job loss or a sick loved one…her hairspray wasn’t available in a travel size and she was leaving for Europe for 3 weeks…the horror.

– “I bought this foot file and I don’t like the way it felt on my feet, I want to return it.”. The answer is no…and eewww.

– At our shop we always hold a monthly draw for a gift of free product. This month we are offering weekly draws along with our monthly draw. I am asked at least 10 times a day “What is the difference between the monthly draw and the weekly draw?”…Santa and the Baby Jesus have their work cut out for them this year.

– “Why do all the holiday packs have pictures of decorations on them?”…I really wish I was makin’ this up…I really do.

– “What does the Peppermint hand lotion smell like?”…oh how I wish I could say “Lemons”.

– “What do you mean I can’t return this comb? I only used it twice?!? I think you and your policy are stupid!!!” – after I explained I cannot re sell a USED comb

Today is Saturday on my side of the world. Saturdays and Christmas shoppers aren’t always the best of blends. Be kind out there. Be patient. I would tell you to think before you speak but I have to admit…some of the stuff we hear helps us make it through the day. Oh yes…although my first “flat iron being thrown at my head” incident was at Christmas time many years ago, it isn’t festive nor is it a tradition I wish to carry forth. So please, do not throw the flat iron.

Beauty, communication, Hair Care, health and wellness, Uncategorized, Women, writing

It’s time to paint your own picture

So the Christmas season is upon us. I think Mother Nature has been hitting the holiday cheer a little early this year because we are not experiencing the typical December weather we are used to in my neck of the woods. School mornings aren’t filled with “Put on your toque!” ( hat for the non-Canadians) followed with the all too familiar “BUT MOM!!! It’s gonna ruin my hair!”. Not an “appropriate” footwear argument to be heard or a pout or tantrum over ugly winter boots to be had. There may be peace and happiness in the  morning at households of school aged children everywhere, but it doesn’t seem to last. “It doesn’t feel like Christmas” is what I hear all day at the shop. After hearing it for the tenth time before 10 a.m. (we open at 9:30 a.m.), I found myself thinking about what I think Christmas is, and what I used to think Christmas was and how hard we as women are on ourselves and our image. (Hey, it’s Monday and I had 4 cups of coffee and have a teenage daughter – enough said).

When I was a child I firmly believed in Santa and the Baby Jesus. I thought they were related. I couldn’t wait to see Santa, that was until I got within 5 feet of the man and thought I was going to pee my pants because I swore he could read my mind and knew it was me who had cut my sister’s Barbie’s hair and had kicked many boys “where it counts” when they made fun of me…and he would tell the Baby Jesus. Fast forward to my twenties/early thirties. I was married when I was 22 and yes we are still together and we still love and like each other. I, as many women went through the “Norman Rockwell painting” phase. Oh come on…you know you did, hell, you may still be going through it – my condolences. The “Norman Rockwell painting” phase or NRP as I like to call it is when one puts so much pressure on one’s self to look perfect and act perfect that one does not enjoy anything and finds no beauty…anywhere. Not in their decorations, baking, family or their own reflection. I thankfully snapped out of that.  As I type, I have a tree up in my living room with lights on it and that’s about it. Why? My daughter wants to help decorate it but she has too much homework so we will do it later some time this week…and guess what?!? The moon didn’t turn black and the earth didn’t open up and swallow us whole.  Take that NRP. Now Christmas is whatever it may be. Last year it was beer and quesadillas. This year, I have no idea yet and it is glorious.

In the last week I have seen women fret and panic because the red polish they needed for an exact match to their holiday sweater set was on back order. I  heard a woman call herself an idiot because she forgot her list. I have heard women say they were too old for a new cut. I have seen a woman’s lip quiver over deciding which flat iron to get. All of them had themselves on such a tight schedule, everything had to be perfectly timed – a timer should be used for baking cookies – not for your daily life. They were all trying to make it perfect. Ladies, it is time to ease up on ourselves, it’s never gonna be perfect. Souffles will fall, cookies will burn, nail polish will chip (if you use OPI ChipSkip it won’t but that is another tale for another time).

There may not be snow, there may be stress in your life, the nail polish may be on back order but it can still feel like Christmas. Play a game with your child, laugh at their jokes even if it is the 100th time you have heard it. Hold your husband’s hand and when you ask how his day was, mean it. Smile as you pass people on the street. Give to a local charity. Donate to a toy drive. Sing a carol in your car. Text a friend to tell them they are wonderful. Talk to your parents – in their living room or at their grave – they will listen to you either way. Next thing you know…it may begin to feel like Christmas.