the cut.

i have gazillion things to do and pack, but let’s quickly talk about my hair.

when i was little it was cut in a neat short bob and behaved. that didn’t last very long because i wanted to let it grow. my mum used to cut my hair and whenever it was time for a trim there was lots of fighting and screaming going on in our house. she usually gave up in sheer exhaustion and only cut off about a centimetre. woe to her the one time when it ended up being two. i put the hood of my bathrobe on and refused to take it off until my dad promised me 6 tickets for the waterpark.

when i was 13 i decided to cut my hair into a bob again and it was the most unflattering hair cut any teenager could ever have. since it was my decision my mum was happy as at least she couldn’t be blamed this time.

then there were a few failed attempts at having a fringe. no need to explain further.

so you understand that i am hesitant when it comes to cutting my hair now. i go for my trims and to lighten the load (yes, i have loads!), but it usually gets tied up anyhow and i prefer it that way. end of discussion.

yesterday i had an appointment to get my hair cut before the holiday. i have been following fashion blogger karla deras for some time and i love her hair. and while i love how it looks when it’s down, i love the fact that she can still tie it up in a little bun even more. however i didn’t consider myself ever brave enough to go there. cutting hair is traumatic to me.

but yesterday morning i woke up and i remember my mother’s words. back in the day when i was in my last year in high school, we were walking through town together and ran into my ex and his new girlfriend. the new girlfriend must have been late twenties then and had long shiny brown hair streaming down her back. my mum - and i still love her for it - just took one look at her and murmured to me: “there comes a certain age when a woman should have a haircut.” and while that was a tiny bit bitchy, i still think it quite true.

so with that in mind i woke up and decided to cut it all off.

i love it and with the amount i will save on conditioner i can go on another holiday. in case you don’t love it, don’t tell me and just remember that i am not very photogenic so i obviously look amazing and very different in real. in case you love it so much, that you want to cut all your hair off too now, i highly recommend craig at thelobby. he is awesome and he will give you beer to take the edge off.  

I wasn't kidding.

When I tweeted (Is that the correct use of term? All still so new and exciting...) yesterday that my hair made me look like a cupid on acid. Here is the proof:

Pure madness going on, I know. Do excuse the quality of the picture, I have read blogging 101 and know the rule of providing good quality images, but in all fairness it just ain’t that easy when you live by yourself. Also I didn’t want to get any closer to myself as I had just come from work and was all shiny. I hope you do get the idea why I just shake my head when people ask me why I don’t let my hair down more often.
I must say though my Paul - my hairstylist - did cut a nice layer there in front. I think he must have been over excited that I allowed him more than “The usual, Paul”, because he also suggested that we could get married. Don’t think about asking. Besides that he is about 20 years older than me, I do still believe, son or not, he is gay.

Paul (in cute, endearing Schwitzerdütsch accent): Well, you and I could just get married.

Me: Are you proposing to me?

Paul: Well, if you want to see it as that. Take it or leave it!

Apparently this loveliness, the fact that we both don’t enjoy clubbing anymore and the discount he would give me on my haircuts should have won me over in a heartbeat.

After my picture taking session I was moving on to DIY projects and then got distracted by Glee. The disc just happened to slip into my computer. I love Glee. I admit it. Make fun of me now.
So there I was getting my stomach used to alcohol again as tonight bubbly tasting is on the agenda, happily singing along and eating cold pasta as a pre-pasta-dinner-snack (yes, I actually did have more pasta for dinner later). Eating cold pasta out of a colander is the best thing ever. I still remember a play date with my friend Kathrin when we were about 12. I came over to her for lunch and we had Spaghetti Bolognese. After stuffing our faces we played board games and ate the entire cold left over spaghettis out of the colander as a post-pasta-lunch-snack. Good times.

Now the actual excitement of the day. My bag was published. Apparently not only guys care what’s in a girl’s bag. All my secrets revealed here: http://www.brandslut.co.za/brandbag-vol-5/

I do a want to add a few things which were cut for space reasons I guess (is there such a thing as space reasons on the Internet??). Otherwise people may think my bag is really weird and I wouldn’t want its’ feelings to get hurt.

Canvas Bag from the little shop on Kloof Street with my last name’s initial. - Of course A was already sold out, because it took me forever to make up my mind whether I wanted to spend R 80 on it. All I can say now – best R 80 spent ever.

Second pair of favourite Prada Sunglasses. – Since I have moved here I have lost 5 pairs of sunglasses. Unfortunately I have a slight addiction problem with expensive sunglasses. First pair of these got stolen in a smash and grab, but I found them again and since it was my second pair they gave me a ‘discount’.

Original Prada sunglasses case. - This will make sense in a bit.

Nokia loan phone courtesy from Vodacom. - It’s just so sad, I won’t dwell on it here.

Piazza Sempione cuff. – Such a diva, too big to work with so I usually put it back in my bag by 9am, which is a also quite sad. For the cuff. It’s so pretty. Must remind myself to finally repair smaller cuff sibling, which actually doesn’t mind when I wear it while typing.

Sunglass Hut case. - I bought this when I thought original case was lost. Then I found the original case and for some reason felt the need to carry both around for a couple weeks. Guess I didn’t want either to feel left out.

Dior Homme memory stick. - This was a PR gift for my former boss. I ‘borrowed’ it from him as he doesn’t know how to hold a mouse (“No, George, you don’t hold it like a remote control.”), so I figured he definitely doesn’t even know what a memory stick is.

Fuji FinePix camera. - Not shown for obvious reasons, but represented by USB cable. Which is actually never in my bag because I will leave it at home and then get mad at myself for not being able to download pictures elsewhere. Like today.

Keys on Marc Jacobs keychain/ coin purse. - Unfortunately very old and doesn’t want to be photographed without extensive photoshop, which I am no good at.

The rest is just is. Nothing to write home about.

Forgive me Father.

For I have sinned. And Mark. For it wasn't with you. I was on a motorcycle last night for the first time in my life. Whoop whoop. So much fun to feel the wind on my face. And best of all - no helmet hair!*

*At least up to my knowledge and the driver didn't complain...