Friday, 11 February 2011


You know what I hate? Going to the hairdresser's.

So, I've had long hair for a while now, down to just below my shoulders and I decided it was about time to get a cut. My main reason for this is that I'm an actor, and for upcoming auditions I need the hair out of my eyes so that the auditioners can see my expressions more clearly. Now, I could have just put on a hat or tied my hair back, but honestly, that can get in the way when you're trying to perform almost as much, even if it did get the job done. However, my hair was getting shaggy and out of control, and I felt like a change anyway. So, after a couple of weeks of hesitance, I finally got myself an appointment to get a cut at the local hairdresser's.

This is the shop where I usually get my hair cut, and have done pretty much all my life (bar a few failed attempts by parents at home, or somewhere while on holiday). They usually completely screw it up and I always come out disappointed no matter how good the cut actually is. Today I realised that they have given me the exact same cut every time I've been there previously, with varying levels of efficiency and symmetry. Never-the-less, I decided that since I knew exactly what I wanted and had booked up with the most experienced practitioner there I would go down and finally get this forest a-top my head sorted out. In hind-sight this was a bad idea.

Upon entering the building, I was welcomed and show to the chair where the massacre would begin. To my surprise and disappointment the least experienced member of staff came up to me in order to ask how I'd like it done. This was after some length of waiting. I told her exactly what I wanted, and to her credit the result was similar but far too short. This cut took her over an hour to complete. Usually it takes less that half and hour, even with extremely long hair. This goes to show her inexperience.

Don't get me wrong, the hair cut will suffice and in a few months it may even look good, but this is not the only thing I hate about going to the hair dresser's. The main thing, the thing I hate most... is the gossip. The bloody gossip. I never know where to stand with this, there is either far too much talking, or far too little and the balance is never right. Let me explain. If they start talking to you and go on throughout the entire cut, it quickly becomes annoying. I didn't go there to chat or be interrogated, I went to have my hair cut, so it would be nice if they focussed on that instead. However, if they only talk to you a little at the start or sporadically throughout the cut it can quickly become awkward, especially if the cut ends up taking over an hour.

This whole business with salons is enough to make me want to train in hairdressing just so I can get my hair done EXACTLY how I want it, whether by doing it myself or by being able to speak the language well enough to get it in to their thick skull that I don't want to look like an old woman or a small child!

I'm sure there is a hell of a lot more that I have to say on the subject, but I'm off out to the theatre soon... at least it will be dark in there so no one can see this thing on my head...

Wednesday, 9 February 2011

Hello and Welcome

Hello, Bonjour, Deydh Da, Guten Tag, Konichiwa, Hola.

Welcome to my blog, my journal, my ramblings. In the next posts you'll see a little more into my mind, my friends will learn new things about me and strangers will become new friends, or new adversaries. Whatever happens, I welcome you, I welcome it.

I'm sure to write about every day occurrences, films, tv, music, art and drama as well as significant events in my life and the world in general. Expect reviews, poems, stories, songs and incomprehensible drivel as you read deeper.

My hope is that this blog will help me get things off of my chest, and bring me closer to people... despite being such a misanthropic man...