Roll on

Today i had my hair cut. I've been putting it off for weeks but it began to feel like a burden and i almost had myself convinced that if only i got my hair cut, my life would start falling into place. It got to the point where everytime i looked at myself in the mirror, i'd just feel sad that my ends were split and fried; that i had thought getting my hair chemically straightened would make me attrative to boys; that i had put so much value on my hair.

So today, i cancelled a coffee date with a friend and went to the city. I had never been to that particular hairdresser before but remembered that they had done a fairly good job on Rachael's hair and decided to try my luck. I made an appointement for 2:30 and walked to Borders to read some magazines. As i picked up Glamour (hands down my absolute favourite beauty and fashion magazine), i felt my heart start to race and my palms becoming sweaty. I felt like i was going in for an exam i hadn't studied for (or which i had studied for- no difference). I was just plain afraid.

Fifteen minutes later, i emerged from Olga's hands feeling pretty darn fine. I was certain that she had cut very little off (i have a lot of thick hair just below my waist and it usually takes hours to get it nicely cut and layered) but one look in the mirror told me that she had indeed done what i had told her and had given me below-the-shoulders hair. Good hairdressers are akin to dear friends- they should be cherished. Comments about the "honey" in my "beautiful eyes" were also appreciated. Who knew?

Of course, i took the opportunity to flip my hair around (it smelled divine too) and snuck glances at myself on every mirror i passed. Even my shadow made me happy.

A whole entry on hair. Got to love being a girl.

Now, i am SO ready for the rest of my life to fall into place...