Maria's getting her hair done by an Asian guy who has one of the rings hanging in between his nostrils...I'm on the most comforable and cool couches ever, but inside a really ugly hair salon on Blvd St. Laurent in Montreal. What is up with that.
Last night when I arrived, I pulled out a bottle of dye that MeiPing and I spent about 45 minutes investigating before purchasing. Does she want to go blond blond, or does she want a little red? Meip kept pointing me toward the browns, and I said, let's go white blonde. We ended up getting a really blonde dye - that was supposed to look a bit reddish, only a tinch, when put on her head because of the brown hair already there. We could not afford a fancy hair cut and a dye, so I thought that with the help of Meip on color, Maria and I could dye her hair.
Last night I breathed in plenty of ammonia before drifting off to sleep. I do not recall any dreams.
She just came back to me on my comfortable blue couch with her hair the color of straw and with the consistency of straw. It's Straw Maria. I think ring man has other plans for her, but what do I know. I'm the peanut gallery.
The salon itself has a grubby look about it...all white with basic track lighting on the top and a disco ball in the center. But the floor is gray cement, shiny. And the back wall is fluorescent pink. A desparate pink. Grubby. But the people are all super nice, though they are a bit hip, with white belts on denim, thin narrow boots and tatoos everywhere. I myself am wearing a navy turtleneck, khakis and my pretend My Three Sons suede shoes. Read: frump. And the music is really the kind of synthesizer music you play when you want to make a joke about music with synthesizers. Due to all of this, and maybe despite it, I am so comfortable here I could nap right now.
We're in town because our friend Neil is promoting his new album. We are doing his music video.
He will not be wearing a blue wig, alas.
