there's a fun story about what happen to me in this but first:
i've been thinking about cutting my hair. like, not a trim... a real cut. and not just a few inches, like... a cut- cut. when i say i have been thinking about this, i must add its been for a period of about 2 years. and i've always chickened out because i have horror stricken memories of the first time i had my hair cut short... picture a high school freshman yearbook picture gone even more wrong that it was already destined. so, everytime my hair is cut they guy knows my limits and knows my reactions to him saying "what about this..."
recently i've been thinking about it again... and thinking more... and more... and while we were on vacation my hair, which is quite longer than it has ever possibly been since that fateful 9th grade year, drove me nuts. and i said over and over again that this was it. but then we got back to trujillo and it was colder and i started having second thoughts.
i was walking back home from work mid-day and decided to step into a supermarket to add credit to my phone and grab something sweet to munch on. sometimes my sugar drops and i get shaky and weak. i'm okay i just know that I need to get some sugar into my system. i also tend to get agitated really easily with a "just give me some chocolate" expression plastered to my face. the closer i got to the store the more i started shaking... so naturally i stepped up the pace. i whizzed into the door. and nearly made it to the first aisle when i heard " señorita... your bag" so i stopped thinking that they would take my bag and put it in a cubby and give me a number to pick it up with (which is normal in the supermarkets). when i stopped and looked at him and noticed he was just looking back at me and we were standing there awkwardly, he said.. just leave it on the floor. this, also, is normal - for adolescents that just walked over from school. (it was time for the schools to be letting out) many a time i've seen lots of backpacks piled on the floor and wondered how they don't loose one or take the wrong one home.
i looked at him and looked at the floor and looked back at him. and calmly told him i was not going to leave my (bright pink backpack) bag on the floor beside the door to the store. as he started to get irritated with me (his tone changed) i added, my computer is there, and no one has ever told me to leave my bag here before. he paused for a moment then whispered into his walkie talkie, eyeing me the whole time to make sure i didnta make a break for it (it was obvious that i was in a hurry) then when he was finished talking, with eyebrows raised he told me to go with my bag.
but he and his friend with the other walkie talkie watched me the entire time i was in the store (i'm sure to make sure that i didn't steal anything)
and in that moment the decision was made... i'm going to the hair salon and i'm cutting this hair and he's going to make me look my age.... and i should probably stop carrying the bright pink backpack too, it's not helping my case right now. even though i carry it specifically to give off the vibe that i'm not carrying a laptop. since i walk a lot i have a fear that someone is going to rob me (i'm really opening up my chances by upping my walking frequency) so i'm probably going to keep carrying the bright pink bag anyway. but i really do wish that, even though everyone tells me i'm going to love it when i'm older, i could look my age or at least near it... and not like a teenager... because in the meantime getting confused for a child really stinks.