My hair needs cutting. No, not to create a Lara-like 2006 head shave, but rather to clean up my bangs, which are growing out in a rather obscene way that reduce important senses like vision. Lately, I've resorted to pinning them back, which means it looks like I essentially have no bangs and takes away the element of style that brought the bangs to my life in the first place.
So why don't I cut my hair?
Sadly, I feel I do not have the stamina to cut my bangs.
Why?
In 8 days I return to Africa. While there, I will face the many children who hate my bangs, and who kindly told me so in no uncertain terms on my last visit in March.
Good memories: "Crayor...who did this to you?" "Crayor, why you cut your hairs?" "Crayor, you mean this?" "Crayor it look very bad!"
So, although I may be an adult woman (!) I am not going to cut my bangs until after I return from Africa so that I don't have to face the wrath of Mary Gaptooth.
2 comments:
Crayor,
Though I often read the daily post (perhaps otherwise known as stalking you two?), I have never commented (aka stealth stalking). However, this entry was my tipping point b/c I wanted to tell you that I quite like your bangs, as I do your writing which made me laugh out loud (LOL, as the kids say) in the midst of the studying cave in which I reside.
Thanks.
Give the kiddos a squeeze for me in 8 days.
Love, vicki
Which Vicki is this??
I'm guessing I know which one...you're sweet;)
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