oops, i did it again.
today i found a new (to me), fun method of procrastination: i got a pedicure. my sister was like, what? you've never had one?!--then she pointed and laughed, as usual--and made me get one. i have no idea why i didn't do this sooner because the foot massage alone was worth it. my feet are probably the happiest part of me right now. and the prettiest, but only because of what happened before that.
before that i got a (short, with bangs) haircut, and then nearly cried because i'd told scissor-weilding woman that it was ok to cut off so much of my hair--she was almost giddy about the haircutting thing, which should have been my first clue that i should have backed away from the scissors very very slowly and not let her touch my hair. but i didn't, and now it's v. short. so afterward, i made shannon repeatedly tell me that i don't look like a 12-year-old boy. her inital response: no, you look like a 12-year-old girl! thanks. right around the time i started to feel ok about the new haircut alvin came home and the first thing he said to me was: you got a boy haircut!
he later tried to take it back by telling me that what he meant was that it's short like a boy's hair, but i don't look like a boy. really, the clarification? not helpful. comparing me to a boy in any way at all ever? bad idea.
and shannon, whose perfect mane of lovely, long and (fake fake pretty colored) red hair i try not to be overly envious of--she had three separate people compliment her hair after i got mine cut. every time someone was like, you have such beautiful hair! i would almost say thanks before i realized they weren't talking to me. so unfair. the only reason this is acceptable is because she's my sister, and you know what? i'm not as short as she is. my hair will grow out, but she'll never be taller.
anyway, here's the new haircut in a photo whose quality really should be ignored:
before that i got a (short, with bangs) haircut, and then nearly cried because i'd told scissor-weilding woman that it was ok to cut off so much of my hair--she was almost giddy about the haircutting thing, which should have been my first clue that i should have backed away from the scissors very very slowly and not let her touch my hair. but i didn't, and now it's v. short. so afterward, i made shannon repeatedly tell me that i don't look like a 12-year-old boy. her inital response: no, you look like a 12-year-old girl! thanks. right around the time i started to feel ok about the new haircut alvin came home and the first thing he said to me was: you got a boy haircut!
he later tried to take it back by telling me that what he meant was that it's short like a boy's hair, but i don't look like a boy. really, the clarification? not helpful. comparing me to a boy in any way at all ever? bad idea.
and shannon, whose perfect mane of lovely, long and (fake fake pretty colored) red hair i try not to be overly envious of--she had three separate people compliment her hair after i got mine cut. every time someone was like, you have such beautiful hair! i would almost say thanks before i realized they weren't talking to me. so unfair. the only reason this is acceptable is because she's my sister, and you know what? i'm not as short as she is. my hair will grow out, but she'll never be taller.
anyway, here's the new haircut in a photo whose quality really should be ignored:
posted by sarah at 5:48 PM
2 Comments:
thank you! that makes me feel much better than hearing i look like a boy. :)
You don't look like a boy! That's a Demi Moore cut. Did I ever tell you about the time my mom's friend permed my hair for me and I ended up looking like another other little old asian grandma you see at HEB on Sundays except that I was only 17 at the time. It was short and poodle curly. We got it straightened right after but then it was fried and orange colored. then, my mom told this lady (different lady) to crop it. Instead of being called a boy, everyone called me dyke. Arrrgh. The huge ass arms and square jaw didn't help either.
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