Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Buzzkill
Okay, I was sick and tired of all the subconscious hits about my hair from my mother (Oh, she acts like it doesn’t bother her, but I know better...) and grandmother. (The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh?) So, when mummy dearest used making a passport (I still don’t have one of my own until this very day. Poor people don’t travel that much... or at all.) as the reason to get me to cut my hair, I sulkily agreed. I mean she said they wanted to be able see my face! What nonsense. My current (old) hair length doesn’t even cover enough of it. Well, when I went to the saloon this morning, I was in no mood to chitchat. I just asked for a trim. Not that short. And left it there.
Normally, I would realise that would be a very very very bad place to stop when asked how you would want your hair cut, but this time, I was less than interested to elaborate. So, the hairstylist began chopping away. I knew I was in for trouble when she started using the buzzer thing ( Sad to say, I have extremely poor knowledge in hair trimming technology jargon.). Even though I kind of expected it, I will admit, my eyebrows were raised a couple of times.
After 20 something minutes of attacking my hair, she was done and I was still sulky. (I’m a child, I know.) The length of it is well, high school. My sides got totally buzzed off, and my fringe barely touches my eyebrow at it’s lowest point. Strange thing is she did ask me if I was still in school or college, to which I replied college.
If I were to look at the positives, I guess I could say I could let me head breathe for a while, and (hopefully) the length would be appropriate enough for the old folks to last until the Lunar New Year 2 months from now (which would save me another morose trip to the saloon). Not to mention, 7 bucks for a haircut that I believe would deter me far far away from any saloon for almost a year is a bargain, provided I am no longer in Malaysia. Also, I guess the shorter length saves me from some hassle of drying it properly and taking care of it as much.
Normally, I would realise that would be a very very very bad place to stop when asked how you would want your hair cut, but this time, I was less than interested to elaborate. So, the hairstylist began chopping away. I knew I was in for trouble when she started using the buzzer thing ( Sad to say, I have extremely poor knowledge in hair trimming technology jargon.). Even though I kind of expected it, I will admit, my eyebrows were raised a couple of times.
After 20 something minutes of attacking my hair, she was done and I was still sulky. (I’m a child, I know.) The length of it is well, high school. My sides got totally buzzed off, and my fringe barely touches my eyebrow at it’s lowest point. Strange thing is she did ask me if I was still in school or college, to which I replied college.
If I were to look at the positives, I guess I could say I could let me head breathe for a while, and (hopefully) the length would be appropriate enough for the old folks to last until the Lunar New Year 2 months from now (which would save me another morose trip to the saloon). Not to mention, 7 bucks for a haircut that I believe would deter me far far away from any saloon for almost a year is a bargain, provided I am no longer in Malaysia. Also, I guess the shorter length saves me from some hassle of drying it properly and taking care of it as much.
Sidenote : Who could believe that I could write so much about getting my hair cut? Gotta learn to cut the crap...
p.s. : I believe I could name a handful of people who would be furious at me right now for cutting my hair. This short to boot. I believe the exact phrase was “I would not talk to you ever again” from one of them. So, I better lay low for the next few months.
Sowwie....
p.p.s. : I feel like getting a beanie for when my hair gets longer. A black and white stripes one.
Monkey J
16:29
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16:29
0 commented