I love people and all of their neurosis!
Maybe it's because I definitely identify as "crazy pants" or maybe it's because I'm an actor and therefor obsessed with behavior in general. But for some reason I'm just tickled by peoples' strange habits, delighted by the awkward and absurd, and fascinated with the freaky! And living in a city like San Francisco there's definitely a lot of crazy to drink in.
One of the milder versions of crazy can be observed right from my work (at the front desk of a hair salon!) Not only do I get a chance to interact with the eleven totally different stylists every day but I've come to know all of their clients on a personal level and sometimes I get the feeling that I'm this kind of mom and they are all my crazy kids...
My eldest (and possibly favorite) daughter would be my dear:
"Blow Out and Set"
She comes in once a week with her long flowing gray hair and tells me about her most recent adventures. Her last trip to India, an exciting estate sale she attended the other day, she always has something going on. She's tall and broad with eclectic style. One time she even wore a silver belt as a necklace and it suited her beautifully!
But it's the way she tears up when she's laughing at her own problems that that really just breaks my heart in the best way possible. She tells me about the 110-year-old house that she lives in, stuffed to the brim with all of the things she's collected over the years; artwork, clothes, trinkets and knick knacks. Her daughters and therapist are making her excavate the basement and get rid of things because they say her collections are "linked to some childhood trauma". She scoffs it off with those brimming eyes and I see into her. I feel her. I love her.
My crazy middle child would be:
"Early Morning Color with Brow Tint"
She comes in every 21 days to be precise. She has this conspiracy theory thing going on where she's always saying, "see you next time, unless of course I get picked up". What is this "picked up"? Who would be doing the picking up and why? She rambles about things you see in tabloid magazines as if it's a part of her life and she tells me she's a very important part of a very important case, some kind of witness or something. It's all very secretive except for the fact that she talks about it all the time! Aside from the crazy, she always has good restaurant recommendations and she always shows up early. Maybe one day all will be revealed...
My youngest little neurotic would be:
"Late Night Blow Dry Switcheroo"
She books these 7pm appointments every week to blow out her mass of unruly hair and every week, without fail, no matter what, she changes the appointment to another day. Why would she even bother to book it in the first place? I don't exactly know, but it's something she's compelled to do. She makes it, breaks it and then comes to the new appointment. It must be some kind of OCD I swear! But it gives me something to count on, something constant. And of course she is my youngest, so maybe she just needs the attention.
These are people in my in my life. Little parts of my world. I'm a peice of their world too, and maybe I'm a peice of yours.
Not Dead. Not Alive. Just Gone.
5 hours ago