I've been going for cheap haircuts. Needless to say, they are not very good. Especially when it comes to bone straight Asian hair.
The Polish lady I had did more of a chop than a crop. Instead of seeing red, I saw white. Lots of it. Not random strands that present themselves every now and then for a quick game of pick and nip. These were strands in close proximity to one another, obviously starting a revolution, convincing the rest that white is the new black.
I have a feeling these renegades have been lying low underneath my mushroom head all this while, waiting for the right moment to jump out for a shock takeover. Mission accomplished. I was stunned, suddenly felt very aware of how old I am this year and even more conscious of how much of it is showing.
I've always felt too sane, too level-headed, as if there was an old soul stuck inside of my body. How did I suddenly go from being too old for my age to being my age.
