blogicalinks

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Random Thoughts on a Wenzday

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I spelled Wednesday phonetically because there’s only one person I know who actually sounds it with three syllables… one of my bosses at work. He’s from Jamaica, and has a deep baritone voice, and just enough of the islands in his accent to know that he’s from outside the contiguous U.S. It amuses me when he says “Wen-nes-day.” (And have you ever wondered why the word “phonetic” isn’t spelled like it sounds?)

“Miracle on 34th Street” is on TV in the background right now. I figure if the station programmers are goofy enough to show it in July, I’m goofy enough to watch it. Of course, I’d only bother to watch the original, not any of the remakes. (Ptooey!) I’m surprised that the ACLU hasn’t petitioned to change the name of it to “Coincidence on 34th Street.”

I joined ALTA (Atlanta Lawn Tennis Assoc.) today. I’ve signed up to play with a league in Norcross, and so joining ALTA was a requirement. I’m so excited about getting back into playing on a regular basis. And Dianne sent me a meetup notice about bowling today too. I think I’ll check in with the actual bowling alley to see what organized leagues they have available before I join the meetup. Bowling… where you can be out of shape and/or old, compete in a climate-controlled enviroment, and eat and drink while playing… my kind of sport. πŸ™‚

I’ve got freelance work to do, and I don’t want to do it, so I’m trying to think of more stuff to write here to continue the procrastination-fest I’ve got going.

For those of you who’ve floated this far down my stream of association, tell me, what did you do for your first paying job? Doesn’t have to be like where you had a W-2 form or anything, but just something you did on a regular basis and someone payed you to do it.

Mine was working in my aunt’s beauty shop. When I was 13 or 14, she’d have me come over on Saturdays (and some weekdays during the summer) and sweep the floor, mix rinse solutions, dust, reset the dryers for the ladies. And it was truly a southern ladies’ beauty shop. Lord, the gossip I heard in that place… but all followed with “Bless her/his heart” or offered as information so the poor souls could be lifted up in prayer… so that made it okay, of course. πŸ™‚

Eventually, my aunt let me wash the customers’ hair. (I wasn’t supposed to since I wasn’t licensed, but she let me anyway.) Now this was in the day when women were heavily permed and would go for one or two weeks between visits. During that time, they wouldn’t wash their hair, they’d just sleep in a hair net, poof and tweeze it back up with a rat tail comb in the morning, and fortify it into place with hairspray… AquaNet being the cement of choice for most ladies, it seemed.

Anyway, I’d lay the ladies back in their chair, and honestly, I’d hold that hot water on some of them for like three minutes before I’d ever touch their hair. When I thought I’d sufficiently flushed the asbestos from their scalp, I’d take some tentative pokes to see if it would move in any kind of manner resembling real hair. If it did, I’d proceed with lather, rinse, lather, rinse. If not, I’d just keep holding the hot water on them.

There was one woman, who was later a teacher of mine in high school, and she had the softest hair I’ve ever touched. It was a really pretty color, and felt more like soft fur than hair. I never had to hold the hot water on her. I remember being in her class and several times thinking “I know what your hair feels like.” I’m glad she was not a teacher on whom I had a crush. That would have been too hard to bear at that tender age. πŸ™‚

Anyway, that was my first job. Tell me about yours.

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Written by blogicalinks

July 18, 2007 at 7:51 pm

Posted in Whatever

4 Responses

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  1. This post was aptly named. πŸ˜‰

    My first job was working for my dad at his graphics firm. I shot stats, couriered things to clients (because there was no such thing as fax or email), filed things, and other random chores. Eventually, I got to do real mechanical art, learned to work the typesetting machine, waxed things to illustration board, cut rubyliths, inked in things with a rapidograph and french curves, and marked up artwork for print. Cheryl, that answer may only make sense to you! Carmen, you may have heard about it in the history of graphic design. LOL!!

    Hope that helps you out with your procrastination-fest. If not, I could call you and “lurk” on the phone a while. πŸ™‚

    Dianne

    July 18, 2007 at 9:33 pm

  2. All of that was definitely before my time, ladies. But I have my fair share of spray mount in my lungs, I’m sure! That goes along with all the other stuff that seeped into my body in school too: oil paint, other various inks, turpentine, mineral spirits and lacquers.

    We won’t be living to 110! :/ But it was worth it for me. πŸ™‚ Nice random thoughts, Cheryl! My first job was at 17, at a video store. As annoying as the customers could be, I really had a blast. The other people I worked with were great and we knew how to live it up, off camera, of course! πŸ˜‰

    Carmen

    July 18, 2007 at 10:45 pm

  3. OMG, the beauty shop story is wonderful! That needs to be published. Not sure where, but its…wonderful!

    Dang, tennis all around me tonight. What’s going on? My ALTA/ USTA days were over when I broke two feet in one year. Maybe 10 years later its time to take it back up.

    First job, assistant to a pharmacist – started two weeks after I turned 16.

    Ru's Mom

    July 19, 2007 at 12:20 am


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