Junk Meets New People

On October 20th, I had to attend an obligatory orientation at the Brown Aveda Institute. This is when I paid for my beauty school kit, fit for my uniform and met my fellow peers.
I already forgot my educators' names. I met a few of the students I will be with 40 hours a week for the next 10 months.
There were two long tables. The wannabes, the nerds (yes, there are nerds in this field), the bitches (you could tell by there cold glares and ironed Lacoste Polo shirts) and the outcasts all separated by about three seats. It was like high school but the whole place smelled like Aveda hairspray and massage oils.
We were all given a bag filled with fun goods (candy, hand lotion, a tube of signature Aveda lipgloss, etc.). The first move we were asked to make by the dean was to give the girl sitting across from us a hand massage.
Of course I felt atypical and creepy, touching this poor girl I had never seen in my life until about 10 minutes before the announcement. She was charming about the bizarre situation we were just thrown in. I'll call her *Jo. She had drawn on eyebrows and very detailed eye make-up. She was very petite (but not anorexic) and had a bewitching chest piece. She said she was home schooled her senior year because her name appeared on a motivated hit list. She was 2# on the list. She openly expressed that she was very proud of the accomplishment. I like her already.
Mannequins with heads of hair were put in front of us. We had three minutes to style it however we desired. With a split second to think, I began doing a familiar look: The Amy Winehouse beehive. I wasn't sure if that was a pert move or a completely feeble-minded move.
Besides that I need some more clothes (the best way to go is thirft stores-I'm bound to spill bleach, perming chemicals, perfumes, oils, lotions, etc. on myself at some point), I believe I am pretty much ready for this adventure.
The fact that I will have my license when I leave this academy (and that I have Saturday visits from friends to look forward to) will keep me going (despite all the stress).
And now it's time for loathsome-fashion-at-the-college-I-work-at!
BREAKING NEWS!: I found out the name of the Jackie Kennedy wannabe. Her name is Gertrude! (usually I would create a fake alias to protect identities, but this is too great). Someone called out to her in the cafe and she responded. I haven't spotted her recently. She wasn't here on Tuesday, yesterday or today. Perhaps she has swine flu or much worse (she went blind upon seeing her horrible crows feet). Maybe she had a heart attack because she realized she wasn't Jackie Kennedy.
I see two members of her clique. They are in front of me as always.
That huge blond who wears the tight-fitting, paisley tops appears as though she got a haircut (the back is uneven, it was either an at-home attempt or a Great Clips do). She is also wearing a shirt with ruffles! Yes, a woman standing at about five foot three and has at least 200 pounds on her is sporting ruffles! *shakes head*

"Dogs never bite me. Just humans."-Marilyn Monroe

-M. Junk