Academic, Security Guard, Fashion Lover, Nutter!

Crazy random happenstances....

2008-08-19T22:23:00.000-07:00

This past weekend at the Bar , I was working at the front door doing bag searches and using the metal detector wands. (for the record, "Bar" with a capital B will be the code name for my place of employment, just so you know! "bar" minus the capital letter will just be a bar I decided to go to) Part of that job description includes checking inside cigarette cases and removing anything that is not tobacco. Needless to say I confiscate a hell of a lot of pot in a night, considering our nightclub can hold over 1500 people.

So on Friday night I was doing my thing, and asked a guy if I could check inside his cigarette case, and he replied, "Sure, but there's not pot in there, I left it all at home". So I opened the case, and what do I find, but a fat mother of a joint. He said "Oh yeah... except that... I forgot". So I removed it from the case and informed him I would have to confiscate it. He said that was fine, but he hoped I enjoyed it, as it was "good shit". I replied that I don't smoke pot, and waved him along. He was, by far, the most polite person I confiscated drugs from of the night. One guy I actually ended up kicking out just because he was giving me too much lip about checking inside his pack of smokes. I never found out if he had anything on him, but I suspected it, and he bugged me, so out he went. So really, this guy was pretty polite, considering.

Flash forward to Tuesday evening, and my security license has finally arrived in the mail! I decided to celebrate by hitting up our favourite local and having a few pints. A friend of mine, Guitarist, smokes, so I was on the patio chatting to him for a bit, and eying this scruffy guy who looks very familiar. Eventually, said scruffy guy comes over and asks me to open a little baggy of weed because he has no fingernails. I declined, because to be honest, touching drugs at all makes me uncomfortable, even when I'm confiscating them at work. Hell, I didn't even like selling cigarettes when I worked the customer service counter at the grocery store this summer. Call me a prude, I don't care. So I told him I wouldn't because I distance myself from drugs, and he went off on this tangent about someone "totally took his weed at the Bar this week, maaaan" I laughed and said I worked there, and that it wouldn't be surprising, considering how much pot we confiscate in a night. He laughed and said he had just told the chick who confiscated it to "enjoy it", and before I could think I blurted out "Hahaha, oh shit that was totally me!" I then realised what I had said, and took a step back towards Guitarist and was like "OK, I'm either going to have to leave very quickly, or I may have to punch this guy...".

To my surprise, stoner guy actually saw the funny side, and even apologized for trying to bring pot into the Bar. I thought he would be pissed, but he seemed in good humour, and even offered me a puff of his newly rolled joint. I guess security at the local isn't as strict as at the Bar (read: it's non-existent, I know so many under-agers who frequent the place, and apparently drugs have no problem getting in, thanks to the complete lack of door control).

But this random encounter made me realise something. I think I need to be a bit more quiet about where I work. Sure I tell my friends, and people I trust where I work, and what I do, but there's no way in hell I should blurt it out to a stranger again. The Bar can definitely be a rough place, and who knows who may have had a run in with one of the security lads I spend my weekends with, and who knows, they may get mad at me for my associations, and I am just paranoid enough to not want to know where that sort of situation could lead. Telling randoms that I work on security at The Bar could be a really, really dumb idea.

Hence the newly thought up code name for The Bar (creative as all hell, I know).

But on the whole, I thought the whole random meeting a very good example of Small World (or at least Small Town), a story with a lesson, and just vaguely amusing for me. Also, Guitarist got a kick out of my telling him I'm a bouncer at The Bar, and that I confiscated that dude's pot last week. He laughed, bought me another beer, and told me I could "frisk him" anytime. I rolled my eyes, and ordered a pint of import.

XXX
HP

The Awkwardness of Cosmetic Shopping

2008-08-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

Call me crazy but I have difficulties in shopping for cosmetics at the specialized stores or counters at department stores such as The Bay. It's something about the clean, organized layout of the products and the women with the immaculate suits and perfect make-up that makes me feel unworthy to shop there, which is utterly ridiculous, but I can't help it. I am far more likely to go to the drug store and buy cheaper options at the same time as my shampoo, than to go somewhere specifically to buy make-up.

However last week I was wandering around the Rideau Centre in Ottawa, and walked past the MAC store. I have friends who swear by MAC cosmetics, and have enormous collections of eyeshadows in every colour under the sun. But I have never bought anything from MAC. So I just walked past the shop, focusing on the SmartSet just beyond it. But then I had a thought. Why not? I had come into the mall with an intention to burn quite a bit of money, and I like make-up. I've worked very hard this summer. Why not treat myself? So I wandered into the store, feeling a little bit like a lost sheep. I was quite grateful that the employees were all occupied, so no one immediately pounced on me, because to be honest I didn't really know what I was looking for. So I wandered around rather aimlessly, admiring the pretty colours of lip glosses, and trying to ignore my annoyance that nothing had a price tag. I knew the prices would be up there anyway, but I still like looking at prices.

Eventually a brunette with flawless make-up, really almost too much make-up, came over to me and asked if I needed any assistance. Still unsure of what I was doing there, and feeling horribly out of place, I replied that I was fine for the moment, and only browsing.

Finally I made my way over to the eyeshadow counter, and began to sample colours on my hands. I watched another customer getting a make-over out of the corner of my eye, and began to feel silly for my monthly attack of the dreaded acne, my cheap covergirl copper and gold eyeshadow, and, horror of horrors, my eyebrows which were in desperate need of a waxing. But eventually I realised I had to ask for some help. I had found an eyeshadow I liked, but I wanted to know the price, and also get some idea of what other colour might go well with it. So mustering up my courage I asked another employee, this time a bleached blonde, to recommend me some colours. She really went to town, demonstrating about six different colour combinations on her hand.

Eventually I decided on the colours "Star Violet" and "Beauty Marked", one a shimmery red, and one an interesting mix of deep plum and black, both very sparkly, which is often a plus in my book. I wanted to ask for some idea of how to put the colours together on my eyes, but decided it would have made me feel far too amateur, so I settled on asking for a brush recommendation, which I ended up rejecting because the price was astronomical and I had a cheap version of something similar at home anyway. So I handed over $40 in cash, allowed the girl to set up an account for me to keep track of my colours, and vowed to hit the internet and look for some application tips as soon as I got home. In order to make myself feel slightly less of a tool, I asked for a recommendation for a good salon to do my eyebrows in the mall, claiming that they were well overdue and I had been far too busy during the summer (hardly a lie).

I have since played with my fun new colours a few times, with mixed results. One evening it was very bright red, the second I ended up with a deeper, more ruddy combination as I mixed in a but of shimmery gold for highlight. I think I need more practice, but I still got quite a few compliments, so it can't have been too poorly done.

The scary thing is that I am already planning my next trip to a MAC seller, this time the counter in The Bay at one of the malls in the K-W area. It won't be for a while yet, as I definitely can't afford to drop $40 on two eyeshadows too often, but perhaps mid September. My goal is to spend less money on cheap cosmetics, and maybe once a month or so buy something really nice from MAC, and slowly build up a collection to rival those belonging to friends I secretly envied. But this time I'll make sure to do my hair nicely, wear simple and chic make-up, and definitely be sure to wax my eyebrows first. Then I can walk into the cosmetic store with confidence, and perhaps leave feeling a little less uncomfortable and out of place than my first encounter.

Introduction

2008-08-17T12:02:00.001-07:00

I am HP. I am, as the title may suggest, an academic, security guard, fashion lover, and a nutter. Add to that full time student, personal support worker, piano enthusiast, Brit living in Canada, and the Queen of Drama, and you're going to start getting a bit of an idea of how nuts my life can be.

I want to explore the world of blogging in a bit more depth. I have kept several blogs in the past, one of which may be seen under this account, titled "The Story of an Archaeology Lifer". But all my previous blogs have been more or less rambling about things going on in my life. While that is all and well, I want to try and keep a blog with more editorial type posts. Each post having a particular theme or point.

So prepare yourself to read about:

Archaeology and life as an archaeology student. It's a big part of my life, and I couldn't avoid writing about it if I tried.
Adventures as a security guard at a large nightclub, and the difficulties of being a blonde, ultra feminine woman in such an industry.
OMG DRAMA! My own and that of my social circle. But I'll try to tone it down slightly, and I NEVER use real names.
Rants, Ramblings, and Trips into the Madness of My Mind based upon whatever may tickle my fancy that day.

As I mentioned, I also work as a personal support worker in a group home for adults with developmental disabilities, but I don't think I will ever write much in detail about that particular occupation of mine. I may express frustration at the system from time to time, but really I don't think it is something that should be blogged about for extreme confidentiality reasons.

I will use code names and initials for the names of the people I write about. I am HP. I will likely not tell you what that stands for. Friends of mine are S, B, N, and so on. I'll try and be more creative with people that have the same initials. Various people I encounter in my daily life may already have codenames, such as Shoulders, BitchWaitress, Big Red, and TallBoy.
You'll get used to it, I'm sure!

Keep your eyes peeled kiddies because there is more to come!

XXX
HP