Archive | December, 2010

A Night At Belle Epoque

28 Dec

Being that I am a penis carrying member of the Y Chromosome Club, getting my hair did really isn’t that big of deal to me. In fact, I really only have three requirements:

1) Cut it short.

2) Not too short. I still want the appearance that I have hair.

3) Make me look more “not homeless”.

See? Not too hard, right?

For the last couple of years, I have been insanely loyal to my hair cutter extraordinaire, Leslie. So loyal, I would literally drive 205 miles southwest of the Kansas City area just to get all my hairs cut. Insane? Possibly. Awesomely devoted and loyal? You bet!

With a 200+ mile drive becoming more and more inconvenient, I decided it was time to test the waters of Kansas City hairstyling once again. And this time, I knew exactly who to call.

Given my propensity for procrastination and indecision, I sent out a SOS text to my good friend Jamie. You see, Jamie is in the know. Actually, she is more than “in the know”. By being a hairstylist and also holding the titles of web coordinator and social media maven for Bell Epoque, she is on the front lines of all that is hair in the  Kansas City area. (Side note: Not only do Jamie and I go way back to the 8th grade together, she gave me the honor of selecting me to photograph her wedding day.) So, within seconds, she demanded I come in and visit Belle Epoque. (And by “demanded”, she sent me a lovely invitation to check out the salon and see what they were all about.)

As I entered Belle Epoque, I was instantly impressed with the style and layout of the salon. Bright colors and plush fabrics graced pretty much every single corner. The lighting was dim, but just enough to give a feel of intimacy and relaxation. The high ceilings and exposed brick of the old downtown building gave off an illusion of industry with a dash of fashion mixed in for good measure. No sooner did my foot cross Belle Epoque’s threshold, I was greeted by a very nice gentleman named Luther. He quickly and politely asked my name and who I was scheduled with. Approximately 25 seconds later, my stylist Jane appeared.

Now, this isn’t my fist experience with Jane or with Belle Epoque as a whole. This summer, I did some photography work for not only the salon, but for Jane and her beautiful family as well. Professionally speaking, we weren’t strangers in the least. But being that this was my first time at the salon as a client, I was even more impressed than I was during my professional interactions with them. And that says a lot given their excellence as a business.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Jane.

Total time elapsed from the time I arrived until the time I sat down in Jane’s chair? Maybe 57 seconds. Maybe. As efficient as that was, I never felt rushed then entire time I was there. In fact, never in my life have I spent more time at a salon willingly. From top to bottom, the whole process at Belle Epoque is different from anything I ever experienced elsewhere. With a smile on her gorgeous face, Jane sat me down, handed me a Boulevard Wheat, and started asking me a series of questions regarding what I wanted to accomplish with my hair and my expectations from her and Belle Epoque. Clear and to the point with a dash of accountability BEFORE you even get your haircut? Other salons should be taking notes.

After the questionnaire was finished, Jane immediately went to work. I was astonished by the skill and precision that Jane possessed. She mastered my short haircut without even resting a set of clippers to my head. Yes, you read that right. Belle Epoque doesn’t take shortcuts. In fact, they don’t even allow them. Jane spent all of her time with me not only concentrating at the task at hand, but being a great and extremely personable conversationalist as well. For a guy that self admittedly doesn’t like new people touching him, let alone taking sharp objects to my head, I never once felt nervous or out-of-place. And that, my friends, says A LOT.

With Jane’s mastery complete, I was out the door as quickly as I came in. To say I was satisfied with my first personal experience with Belle Epoque would be the understatement of the year. I am already hooked and booked for my second haircut in January. As you guys know, I very rarely pimp out anything unless I just had amazing service or an absolutely kick ass time. In this instance I had both. And if you know what is good for you, you’ll follow my lead and grab an appointment with Jane or any of the other fine stylists at Belle Epoque. I promise you will not only be hooked, you’ll thank me later.

The Finality Of My Failures

27 Dec

As you bent over to pick up the very last box, I heard you let out a long, weary sigh. Most days, I wouldn’t have even paid attention to it. Something so simple, just a part of the daily barrage of sounds that tend to get lost in the background or ignored because you fear their true meaning. But today, as I heard that whisper hover over your pursed lips, it hit my eardrums with a deafening ferocity. It was time. And we both knew it.

You didn’t know I was listening.

But I was.

It probably didn’t even cross your mind something that tiny would resonate to my inner core.

But it did.

Yet, here we were, both lost in our own little worlds. In a matter of minutes, you’d be in the car, watching the garage door shut through the rear view mirror as you drove off. Nearly a decade’s worth of memories reduced to a box, a  glance of an eye, and an auditory reminder of the finality of my failures.

As your arms wrapped around that box, you let out a sigh.

A sigh. A simple, gut-wrenching sigh.

And Elsewhere

24 Dec

If you are like me, you’ll be looking for things to do this holiday weekend that don’t include interacting with people and forced smiles with a side of awkward hugs. Lucky for you, I have some pretty damned cool links for you to click on and subsequently read. So, when grandma comes in for that open mouth kiss, just remember you could be reading my posts over at MamaPop and Draft Day Suit! Anyway, a very happy holidays to all of the internets. I hope that nobody gets food poisoning or catches on fire this year.

This week @ MamaPop:

Tuesday’s Post: AP’s Entertainer Of The Year? Betty White Is Golden

Wednesday’s Post: Anne Hathaway And Her Boyfriend Shacking Up?

Thursday’s Post: A Guide To Holiday Programming For The Non-Holiday Folks

This Week @ Draft Day Suit:

Friday’s Post: NBA Games Are Pretty Awesome? Who Knew?

And Elsewhere

17 Dec

Another week filled with awesomeness has flown by. The only thing I can do is give you the links to said awesomeness. So, here you go. Now it’s up to you. What are you waiting for? Go! Read!

This week at MamaPop:

Tuesday’s Post: HIMYM Season Six Recap: Episode 12 “False Positive”

Wednesday’s Post: Guess Who’s Pregnant Again? Teen Mom’s Amber Portwood, That’s Who

Thursday’s Post: Hottest Pregnant Celebrities Of 2010


This week at Draft Day Suit:

Thursday’s Post: Is The Big 12 The Best Basketball Conference In All The Land?

And Elsewhere

10 Dec

I’ve been a busy internet bee this week. After a few weeks off the radar, I am back in action full force. So, get to clicking and read away!

This week at MamaPop:

Tuesday’s Post: HIMYM Season Six Recap: Episode 11 “The Mermaid Theory”

Thursday’s Post: Mashup Of The Year? The Notorious XX

Friday’s Post: Want To Ride Unicorns With Robert Pattinson? That’ll Cost You $80K

This week at Draft Day Suit:

Wednesday’s Post: Zack Greinke And Trade Rumors Go Together Like Peas And Carrots

Thursday’s Post: Matt Cassel Has Appendectomy, Further Proof God Hates Kansas City

30 Days Of Truth: Day Thirteen

7 Dec

Day 13- A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)

I can still hear your smooth and sexy melodies as if it were the first time my ears heard such heaven on Earth. As I laced up my roller skates, I could feel the bass from the speakers resonate through my body. It was time. Time to get my groove on. And then you spoke to me. And it went a little something like this.

“I’ve been waiting all night
So just let me hold you close to me
‘Cause I’ve been dyin’ for you girl
To make love to me”

So simple, yet so powerful. My eleven year old mind totally knew exactly what you were trying to convey. You wanted to make love. You possibly were sick because you were dying. Maybe you got shot? Maybe you had some rare cancer? You were dying. That was sad. And yet, all you wanted to do was make love to this girl. You wanted to make out with her. Tell her she’s pretty. Take her to church. Maybe, just maybe, a little up the shirt action. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though. I mean, you were DYING. And that was still really sad. Still, above all your pain, you just wanted to kiss and hug this girl. At eleven years old, I could totally respect that.

I am thirty years old now. A long time has passed since I first heard your words of wisdom. Many moons have risen in the sky. I have, indeed, had my fair share of said “up the shirt action”. So, I guess a thank you is in order. Thanks to you, I know how to officially sex somebody up. Thanks to you, Color Me Badd, I know how to make a woman feel real good and possibly, just possibly do it ’til we both wake up. Although, I am not really sure what you meant by that. But trust me, your advice did not fall on deaf ears. I now have sex awake ALL the time. No more sleep fucking for me. That’s what you were trying to tell me to do, right? Stay awake? Make her stay awake too? Yeah, I thought so.

So, here’s to you Color Me Badd. I owe all my sexual prowess to you. I cannot thank you enough. And whenever I’m feeling oh so very naughty, I just add and extra “D” to the end of bad. Why? Simple. That always lets my lover know exactly what I am thinking. I’m BADD and she knows it.



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