why is her scalp bleeding?

So, are we all back now? Is the site up and running? This has been very annoying and I apologize. It seems the server that hosts Squishy just went down for a couple of days and I couldn’t FTP or get e-mail or even look at the site. It seems to be coming back, though.

Yesterday afternoon I went to get a haircut. I swear this story has a point. It’s not that I’ve been reduced to telling you about my haircuts or anything. Anyway, I went to this place near my house and I noticed that it has been bought out by another hair-cutter place (it isn’t really a salon), and it is now called “Fast Freddy’s.” Okay. I walk in and I’m the only one in there except for the hairdresser. She immediately puts me in the chair and starts washing my hair.

It’s painful. You have to understand that my favorite part about getting my haircut is the wash beforehand. I love leaning back against the towel on the lip of the sink while they massage sweet smelling soaps into my hair. The warm shower massager thingy rinsing off the suds. The nice conditioner.

This woman treated my hair like she was beating kitty litter out of her bathroom floor mat. There was no towel on the sink, so my neck was craning over the porcelain. She whipped my hair back and forth and was knocking me on the sides of my head to pull it up. At one point she boxed my ear. She was scratching the soap into my head with her nails.

Now, my mother used to be a hairdresser, so I always grew up with her giving me haircuts and she was very big about “quit whining. Don’t have such a tenderhead.” So I try to be good about not complaining when I’m getting my hair done. But this was quite painful. And then my mother’s voice popped up in my head: “Pamie, what did that sign say outside? Did it say ‘Gentle Freddy’s?’ ‘Tender Teddy’s?’ ‘Soothing Suzie’s?’ No. It said ‘Fast.’ And you walked in and started getting your hair cut, didn’t you? You got what they advertised.”

And because I’m always trying to be a good girl, I kept my mouth shut. I’m always trying to be a good girl. It’s awful. I’ll try and make a good impression on anyone. ANYONE! I’ll let people cut in front of me in lines, in traffic, at the vending machine. I always assume the other person is more important. I’ll always give the other person the right of way so they think I’m a good person. I have conversations I don’t want to have. I’ll try food I don’t want to eat. I’ll have lunch with people I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. As long as they think I’m a good person.

I’m at the girly-doctor’s yesterday and I did it again. You know what I wish? I wish that when you fill out the info for the doctor/nurse to hand to them at the top of your appointment that there was a little box that you could check that says, “Patient does not need small talk.” Then when the doctor/nurse is mashing my breast to see if I have any lumps I can just look at the ceiling and pretend I’m somewhere far far away instead of hearing the question, “So, I heard you’re an actor. Do you know Matthew McConaughey?” Don’t do that. Don’t. Don’t touch my boob and ask if I know Matthew McConaughey. That’s not what I want. I just want the whole appointment over with. Just finish up.

But I won’t say that. I’ll just try and look at the nurse/doctor and I’ll be like, “Well, I saw him once at a bar and he seemed like a nice guy and all… ” and inside I’ll be screaming “NO! I WANT TO GO HOME! DON’T ASK ME ABOUT SANDRA BULLOCK! DON’T ASK ME –”

“And Sandra Bullock?”

“DAMN!”

“No. Never seen her.”

And then it’s too late. I’ve had the conversation. And I think when it’s all over that absolutely no one benefited from me talking about celebrity sightings. I probably could have said, “You know, I really don’t feel like talking.” But at the time I don’t think about what I want or need. I just think about what is the quickest way to get out of the situation I’m currently in.

And still be a nice person.

It’s all my mother’s fault. She’s so nice that when she’s at the girly-doctor I’m sure she’s offered to hold the speculum in place — “You know, just so I can be of some help.”

Weekend Plugs

(from the Austin Chronicle)

POLAROID STORIES
Myths with street cred? You bet. Playwright Naomi Iizuka takes the modern stories of homeless kids and weaves them into Ovid’s Metamorphoses. What results is a unique, fascinating adventure through dangerous escapades and narrow escapes through their world that is at once universal and socially relevant. Vicky Boone directs this Frontera@Hyde Park production. Through Oct 2, Thu-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm, Frontera@Hyde Park, 511 W. 43rd. $8-10 (Through Sep 19); $10-12 (Sep 24-Oct 2); Thu, pay-what-you-wish. 479-PLAY.

SLOW NIGHT AT MCLAUGHLIN’S Marshall Ryan Maresca wrote and directed this play, which depicts a languid evening at the Irish bar owned by the McLaughlins in Norville, New York, whose quiet is disrupted by an unexpected visitor. Robert Berry, Eric Peterson, and Jesse Wiles star as three estranged brothers who struggle to calm the sea of tensions between them. Through Oct 9, Thu-Sat, 8pm, John Henry Faulk Living Theatre, 207 E. Fourth. $12. 454-TIXS.

Monks’ Night Out Never the same show twice, Monks’ Night Out is the reigning improv/sketch troupe in Austin. They’re hot, they’re sexy, they’re funny. Come see them. If you don’t, you’re a big poo-poo head. Fri-Sat, 9pm & 11pm, Velveeta Room, Sixth & Red River. 258-MONK.

Inflatable Egos Boy, Austin’s hottest new improv/sketch group is really taking their name seriously, demanding a separate listing from the Monks just because they’re doing the early show Saturday night! Better be funny! Sat 8pm, Velveeta Room, Sixth & Red River. 469-9116.

The Inflatable Egos are also doing a regular Thursday midnight show. Thu, Sep 13 & 23, midnight, Movements Gallery, 211 E. Sixth. 469-1745