Limbo Land

The past 2 weeks have been somewhat transitory for me, and I've been taking it out on my hair. Petty and unimportant information, yes, but I have nothing else major happening in my life right now. I originally tried to do this ombre thing that didn't happen. It came out orange-ish and one side was higher than the other. I wanted to love this salon I had been going to in the Mission, Pretty Pretty Collective, but the past 2 times were so lackluster and the results were not at all close to what I wanted, so that place is done for me. I think it's hipster element is overshadowing the fact that there are a lot of under-talented people working there or something. I went to another salon and they gave me much better highlights that was much closer to what I had been going for. But the bleach killed part of my hair, and after trying to adopt new ways of styling my hair for about a week, I realized it was better to just cut if off. I'm a little hair-shocked right now, but another 6 months and it will be back to the length I want it at. I'm going to go blonder too, in the next few months. And I found someone cool to do my hair, finally. It's hard to find someone in San Francisco who is non-pretentious and such. In my opinion. I spoke to my sister today, but she sounded so irritated it kind of hurt my feelings. I'm too sensitive sometimes, and I don't think it was me, more likely her job stressing her out. I feel like sometimes she's hoping I move away from California. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. But I can't say I would blame her. She helped me get on my feet out here and has always been there for me if I am in a pickle or need help with some extra money. And she's been very generous with my past few Christmases and birthdays, too. Maybe it would be better to leave and make a clean break. I'm not in love with California, I never have been, really. I find it to be an almost cruel, somewhat vicious place full of a lot of violence and twisted types of people. Let me touch on another topic here. I'm not the prettiest person in the world. Not even close. In fact, if I don't wear makeup and have my hair done, I look pretty fucking ugly. And I have a kind of unique look, maybe. Not like every other girl. That still doesn't make it any easier when I look up and see someone rudely staring at me with this look of question on their face, as if they are witnessing something so ugly they can't believe it, or whatever. I'm not that pretty, but still, don't be a fucking rude asshole, or rude assholes. It happens too much sometimes. I should go back to my anorexic days, at least being too thin detracts from a less than precisely symmetrical beauty. Work is sucking so bad. Sucking the life from my bones!!! I'm starting to hate it. I really hate some of the people I have to talk to, the rude douches, and the awful graveyard shift schedule. That's it for now, I want to go home and rest.