17. COLOR

I can't believe how long it has been since I last wrote something. So much has been going on and this is the first chance I've had to sit and write!

In the middle of February I went to New York for what was supposed to be an opening exhibition of my father's paintings depicting his experiences during the Holocaust. I was also excited to get a chance to spend time with my daughter. It turned out that the threat of snow cancelled the exhibition, but it didn't stop Rachel and me from shopping our butts off. I had such a great time with her. I really cannot stand living so far from both of my children, and wish there was a way that I could afford to fly in to see them both whenever I wanted.

I also fell in love while away.

It was with a bird.

Rachel's roommate has two birds, an African Grey and a Green Cheeked Conure. I thought for sure I'd get attached to the African Grey as it talks, and I figured the interaction would be fun. It turned out that the Conure stole my heart. First of all, she looks like a bird version of one of my cats. She has these mannerisms that are so cute, and so endearing, that I just couldn't get enough of this little thing. Then one evening we were sitting around munching on chips and salsa, and all of a sudden she comes walking down the hall. It turns out that she is a little piglet, and heard the rustling of the chip bags, and came to eat. She sat on my shoulder happily munching away on tortilla chips. I actually missed her so much, that I asked Rachel's roommate to send me a photo of her. I know, sick.

So I missed Monday and Tuesday of school, but came straight from the airport in time for class on Wednesday. I spent the entire evening making up a test that was supposed to be given that night but had been pushed up to Tuesday evening, as well as making up skills that were taught, such as applying relaxer. Thursday we had another exam and then on Friday morning I came in to make up some of the lost hours as well as perform a perm service, which caught me up with all that I had missed.

Thursday, after our exam, we were all excited to start our new chapter on color. Instead, Ms. White had us do finger waving and pin curls. I though we would all kill her. What I now know is that she is definitely not qualified to teach in a classroom setting. She may be fine out on the floor of a salon, as her method of instruction is more hands on and she teaches "what goes on in the real world," her favorite expression. She is unfamiliar with the textbook, and does not come prepared with having read the text that she needs to instruct on. This is very frustrating. When we finally started on color, she was unable to teach it in the manner that newbies need to be taught-that is, explain why, how, and the consequences of. We were left to our own devices on choosing colors for our mannequin that for some turned out to be inappropriate, for when it came time to re-dye the mannequin, some colors were so out there, that they were difficult to correct. Don't get me wrong. I'd rather do it the hard way and learn how to make the corrections. But Ms. White never taught it in this manner, and this is the stuff we need for our state boards. My husband tells me to keep my mouth shut and not go to the administrator to voice a complaint. I'm not too sure that I am going to be able to comply for much longer. I am paying for an education and expect to get as much as I can out of it. Not leave at the end of the evening feeling frustrated.

In fact last night, we were to start on salon ecology, basically learning how to prevent infection and the types of micro-organisms out there. Ms. White read two pages from the textbook, asked me to pronounce the biological names, and then closed the textbook and asked us what we wanted to do that night. The evening prior we had Ms. Diamond who administered our test on color and then had us do a whole head foil. She had her lesson planned. This BS of "what do you want to do" does not fly with me. I ended up rolling a perm, as this is a service that is time consuming, and we need a certain amount of perms to graduate, so I figured the more I knock out now, the better. It turns out that you can have all 1200 hours, but if you did not complete the amount of services that the state requires, you do not graduate until you do.

The classroom at times becomes a bit too familiar, like being stuck in an office all day with the same people. I am not good with this, as people get on my nerves real fast when I know their quirks. Ms. White talks about herself all evening-it's all about her. Latisha is truly an idiot, and why they let her come back a second time to retake the course is beyond me. She follows no instruction, comes in late, has a horrible attitude, does things the way she wants to, and I find it scary that in a few short weeks she will work on another person's hair. Spit-sucking Stephanie, being the consummate shampooer at the salon she works at, feels it her obligation to give instruction to the rest of us, as I guess having a "degree" in shampooing makes you a rocket scientist. Needless to say, she and Latisha are good friends. One of my favorite expressions, which always holds true about the people you choose to have in your life is, "water seeks it's own level." Enough said.