| (no subject) |
[Apr. 3rd, 2006|10:26 pm] |
| [ | current location |
| | homehomehomehome. | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sickly, still. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | mewithoutYou - four word letter (pt.two) | ] |
sonofaBITCH. i fucking hate it when my computer fucks up, and closes out of the internet when im in the middle of a long post. ohhh well, i'll start over.
i'm all stupid and uncomfortable with having a myspace, ugh. i don't know for sure if im going to keep it. blegh.... =/
i went and got my hair cut today, in the back. it's a little bit layered now, so it won't lay so flat, yayzorz.
i walked into the salon and sat down, and waited for my name to be called. when it was, it was by a middle-aged man with greasy hair. his hair was filled to the brim with old, half gorwn out highlights, and he shook my hand, which was weird. i have a tendency to judge hairdressers by their own haircuts, and needless to say, i didn't approve of his. i sat down in the chair, and described in intricate detail of what haircut i wanted, and he just stared at my hair like a retarded 3 year old staring at the controlboard of a nuclear submarine. i look right at him, and ask, "do you have any idea of what i want?" and he pitifully replies, "no." i turn my head to look at myself in the mirror once more, and say rather flatly, "well then maybe i should have someone else cut my hair." to which he replies (again, rather pitifully), "maybe you should." i scoff at him, and get up from his chair, and sit back down in the waiting room, and once again pick up my copy of "vixen" magazine, a magazine that caters to a black, female audience.
oh im so elitist. if he woulda fucked up my hair, i woulda smacked a ho. some mexican lady ended up cutting my hair, and she did such a great job, yay.
"i'm so small i can be barely seen - how can this great love be inside of me?"
"look at your eyes, they're small in size, but they see enormous things!" |
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