Friday, October 10, 2008

(un)Holey White Tights.


(un)Holey White Tights. from amy williams on Vimeo.

In addition to the chalga singer/burlesque dancer training I received this week at the Bulgarian dance class, I think the evil Bulgarian forces are hard at work to bombard my life with all things tasteless and oh so un-classy. I went to get my haircut with intentions to chop it all off, thin the heck out of it, and give myself a funky do' like Toni & Guy back home can deliver. Instead, the what must have been barely 17 year old BOY with a early 90's spiked 'do with a bedazzled hoodie took an hour and half to not listen to my instructions and fluff my hair larger and larger and LARGER. I said THIN child, not poof. He got the straighter out and I was thanking God he knew what such an aparatus was, but rather than straighten, he curled under 1993 style. Unacceptable. I've tried to tame it or hide the mess away with the Whitney Houston circa "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" look I a sporting above. Anyway, I've had about all I can take of this ugly madness.

PUSSYCAT DOLLS ARE A JOKE BULGARIA!!! DON'T EMULATE THEM!

5 comments:

Yamislesy said...

awww sorry about your hair! but I laughed a lot at your holey white tights story...you made your 12-yr-olds' day! stay tough!

luv and miss u tons!

Chelsea and Johnny said...

Amy you crack me up! Sounds like your doing well. Miss you and stay away from those tights!

ANN said...

Amy,

Thank you for blogging/vlogging. I incessantly laughed during the entire video! You are hilarious and you brighten my day. Good job over there!

Michelle Loves Danger said...

I laughed so hard after hearing your story! note to self, don't be skanky at the school. HAHAHA! good luck trying to find halloween costume inspiration. this year i think i will go as Ugly Betty! HA!

miss you, amiga. let me know when you're in LA

Elizabeth said...

I moved to Washigton after high school to live with my dad. He lived on main street in a small town, much like downtown Broken Arrow. When I went out looking to get a haircut, the only place I could find was a spanish speaking salon. They cut it fine and then proceeded to fix it. This lady took a small curling iron-you remember the little tiny ones from the 80s/90s?-and started curling my hair under. I quickly told her no thank you, that I was in a hurry. Anyway, this totally reminded me of this!