Soul Food

As you know, I'm learning about a lot more than just hair, skin and nails at the Western Hills School of Beauty and Hair Design. One of the other things I've been learning is how to cook soul food. I've adopted Ms. Kathy's Corn Pudding recipe and have made it for many a BBQ this Summer. Everyone LOVES it and it is super easy:

Preheat oven to 350°

Mix together:

1 can corn

1 can creamed corn

1 stick of butter melted

1/2 to 1 cup of sour cream

1 package Jiffy Corn Bread Mix

Pour into a medium size casserole dish and bake for 50 to 60 minutes. It's slappin'!

Also try Ms. Margaret's Greens. This recipe takes a very long time, as the greens need to simmer for at least four hours. But if you're a white girl like me, who always loved greens but had no idea

how to make them, this recipe is also very easy.

Use a big, high-quality stew pot.

Cover two smoked turkey wings with water, bring to boil and then simmer until the meat falls off the bones. About two hours. Strain out bones return liquid and meat to pot.

Rinse four to six bunches of collard greens. (I bought too much

thinking it would shrink down like spinach. It shrinks, but a lot less then spinach would.)

Chop the greens by slicing every 1/2" or so. Discard the very bottoms and very tops of the bunches.

Put the greens in the pot with the smoked turkey and simmer for four hours.

Add salt and pepper to taste -- and hot sauce/hot pepper if you like it. Delicious!

Language

Three weeks before Christmas in 1992 my boss came into my office and asked "Do you have a valid passport? They want you to go to Mexico City to lead the Hasbro pitch." Well of course I had the passport, but my retention of high school Spanish amounted to "Mas cerveza por favor." An intensive Berlitz program for relocating executives and eleven months of working in a bi-lingual office fixed that. Buy the time I returned to New York the following October, my Spanish language skills resembled those of a precocious Mexican three- year-old. I had begun to stop translating in my head. I just sort of felt the words wash over me. I'd understand the jist of what was being said and would respond without knowing exactly what I was saying either. But it worked.

I've been in beauty school now for eleven months. About the same amount of time that I had been living in Mexico when I stopped translating in my head. I can now end a sentence in a preposition, truncate my sentences, and use ghetto slang with aplomb. I still struggle with the double negative. No sure I'll ever be able to adopt that one. Whenever I use these new language skills I'm surprised when no one calls me out on it. Some times I find myself actually thinking in this new (to me) colloquial grammar. Kind of like when I was immersed in the Spanish language.

I have an octogenarian client who use to be a Dean at UC. I gave her Newsweek to read under the dryer and told her I thought she'd enjoy the article on Mark Twain, "the release of his memoir, 100 years after his death was the impetus for the article." I thought to myself "I just said 'impetus!' then I looked around to see if anyone heard me.

I need to spend some more time with my own demographic.

Tips again

I just have to share this picture -- of a little old lady who lined up the change, that was my tip, on my station. Really? Really!

Kind of reminds me of the (first) year we got crappy bonuses at Grey. Of course in advertising the bonuses where never more than a few thousand dollars; nothing like banking or law. But back in the day it had been enough to cover the Christmas bills and pay for Summer camp. Then came the year when that afternoon as I was leaving the building I passed my copywriter who said "did you get your bonus?" I said "yes, I'm going right now to spend the whole thing on a pair of leather gloves at Saks." She replied "I just spent my on a haircut."

I shopped at Saks. We got our haircut at Bumble + Bumble. I honestly don't miss it at all. But $1.50 laid out out in change on my station. Are you kidding me Lady?! Next time I'm gonna jack her hair up good.

Time Sheets Again

It's time-sheet time again. All one has to do is add up the numbers straight across and down the columns, then record hours by "management," "course," "clinic," and "non-clinic" for this and the previous month. There are only a handful of students that can do this. The last day of the month, and the first couple of days of the new month are chaotic and stressful as everyone tries to get their time-sheet filled out properly. The few students who are "good at time-sheets" help those that are not. Of course I belong to the former category. But I have lost the patience to help anyone other than my clique from "up the hill." Sara and Jules, however, are running a little time-sheet business. Not sure how much they get paid per time-sheet. The price use to be lunch, but I think it's gone up to something like $10 cash.

Tips

Today I spent THREE HOURS correcting the botched bleach job a fifteen-year-old girl did on herself last night. My niece had a similar situation last summer and it cost her $165 at Dillards to get it fixed. This chick paid $51 and left NO TIP. I am very saldy about it. Prior to the corrective color from hell, I did two color retouches, a cut and a shampoo and blow-out. And I only made $5 in tips all day. Seriously. That sad part is that every single client left looking great and very happy. But no tips.

I think there are a lot of people, especially new clients who don't know that can recieve tips. At the Aveda school they are not allowed to. We are.

Last Saturday I started saving all of mine in an envelope in my locker. When I get to $300 I'm going to buy myself a nice Coach bag.

Just another day at the WHSB

It was a typical week...

On Tuesday, I decided to take my fifteen minute break outside. There's a small covered deck area in front of the school with a bench all around. I went to sit out there and check my email. There were four other students doing the same. As soon as I got seated, Rhonda approaches me with much glee, and told me I should watch a video she had on the phone she was holding in her hand. I asked "Is it a porno?" (I figured it was 'cause, well, Rhonda is kind of like that.) "Only a little" she said.

I think they like to see if they can freak me out. So far they haven't.

So Rhonda handed me the phone. And sure enough it was a home-made porno by Brian. Brian is an extremely handsome, young, gay, black man. He wants to move to LA and be a celebrity stylist. He definitely has the talent, the drive and the personality. So anyway, I'm watching this video and as with most of the crazy out-of-the-box crap, I watched for a few minutes with what I hoped looked like a detached academic intensity. I smiled, handed the phone back to Rhonda and said "impressive." They all went weak (see "Word of the Day" in the side-bar at right). Once inside the girls couldn't wait to tell Brian that I had seen the video.

NO! OMG..." said Brain. Then blushing he turned to look at me from three stations away. "Don't worry about it," I said -- "but I must tell you, that was very impressive and I'm sure you could teach these girls a few things." Brian smiled and said "I know that's right."

Prior to this little event, Brian wouldn't give me the time of day, now he smiles, says "Hello," and is friendly as could be.

On Wednesday I was rolling up a perm on a mannequin head for the 110th time, when Dina looked at me to get my attention from across her station and asked "Mz Cynthia, are mermaids real?" I looked over at her and Dominique (with whom she had obviously been discussing this) and said, "What?"

"Are mermaids real?"

"Are you kidding me? You want to know if there are actually mermaids? Like women on the top, fish on the bottom? Like in The Little Mermaid?"

"Yeah, do you know if they real?"

"Yes, I do know, and No they are not real. It's just a myth."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I am sure." By this time I am giggling quite a bit. Dina and Dominique are too, but I can tell they really are serious. Then I tell them "There is a sea animal called a manatee that a long, long time ago sailors would see off in the distance; and because they have breasts they thought they were women. At least women on the top, fish on the bottom. That's how the myth got started. They have manatees at the zoo. You can go see them."

"Well thank you for that Mz Cynthia."

On Thursday I posted 903 hours. Half way, plus three. I took the 900 hour written exam and got a 98. I got a 98, and not 100, because I didn't know the difference between collagen and elastin. But I do know that Mermaids aren't real.

My secret life

I agreed to work the reception desk this morning from 9 to 12. About 11:00 we got a call from someone looking for Susan Schell. She was in Ms. Lisa's class with me and she's still "up the hill." The school policy when a student gets a call is to take message. We are not to give out any information as to wether or not the student is actually there. I told the caller "I can give her a message and have her call you right back."

"This is Sister Gerta from Our Lady of Lourdes, her daughter's school." Now I know Sister Gerta pretty well. She runs the school office and is secretary to the Principal. I know her from when JJ was applying there and because I'm so active in the religious ed program. Of course she doesn't recognize my voice, even though I answered the phone "Western Hill School of Beauty, this is Cynthia, can I help you?" It's just WAY TOO out of context. I quickly dismiss revealing myself and just have her leave a message. I called "up the hill" to give Susan the message -- but found out she wasn't in school today. Normally we're not to call back with this information. With so may gypsies, tramps and thieves it's best if the school doesn't get involved with a student's whereabouts. But it's Sister Gerta, and I know her, and I know Susan and it's HER KIDS' SCHOOL! So I call Sister Gerta back to tell her that Susan isn't in school today. And ask if she has a home or celll number. She doesn't and she asks me for the cell number. Of course I can't give it to her. (I would have had I had it, but I knew the office wouldn't give it to me no matter what). So we're having this whole conversation and she still doesn't recognize me. And I still don't reveal myself.

I wonder if she thought "... that girl at the school switchboard sure sounds familiar." I'll let Susan tell her.