(again)

well this is awkward. ive just made my, like, 4th blog and im still fucking talking to myself. WHEN WILL I FIND SOMEONE TO ETERNALLY BEAR WITNESS TO THE ABSURDITY OF LIFE SO I CAN STOP COMPULSIVELY CREATING NEW BLOGS TO FILL THE VOID?!!

alright the breaking, catalytic news that fueled the need of a new blog is this: i desperately need a haircut. im aware of how idiotic this sounds, but i swear its a bigger deal than anyone could possibly imagine. and ranting about this issue seemed ridiculously inappropriate to dump on any of my other three blogs, for god knows what reason.

the last “professional” haircut i got was about…gosh, 5 years ago? it was at some asian hair salon that my mom goes to because the owner and her have some friend connection or something that i just dont care enough to comprehend. the place is desperately mediocre, smells of asshole, and the owner lady always gropes my face and tells me i should enter this super obscure chinese beauty pageant because of my height and bone structure, or whatever. i always just politely smile and nod and then look in the mirror and mouth to myself, “…wtf, seriously??” well the last time i was there, she somehow convinced me to get a simple trim and layering for a discount because my mom had just gotten her hair colored. ok, whatever, i got in the chair and just indifferently glared at her in the mirror waiting for it to be over. next thing i know, i have literally NO FUCKING HAIR ON MY HEAD. oh my god, if i wasn’t so utterly horrified, i wouldve taken a picture and kept it as evidence of the devil’s work. i looked like the lead singer of a korean boy band who couldn’t decide if he wanted to go through with his sex change. holy hell, i literally just broke down crying and was about ready to run into the street and get pummeled by a truck. after about a 2 month long trauma recovery, i vowed all hairdressers evil and i would never trust anyone with my hair again. ive been cutting my own hair since then (and its really a lot simpler than one would think) but recently, ive gotten lazy/old and just can’t be bothered to figure out how to tame the beast ive let grow wild on my head.

so, now i have to find someone to cut my hair and this is deathly terrifying for me. for one, i genuinely dont like people touching me (unless youre cute and i want you to touch me in the no nos). i dont do manicures, pedicures, massages. hugs are barely bearable and usually depends on how much i like you and/or your bod. im pretty much a walking, talking, brick and will cringe and crumble when you touch me unnecessarily. im not, like, weird or anything, and im definitely not one of those people with bizarre phobias that you see on the maury show. im just not a fan, ok?

but once i get over the whole human contact thing, the next feat will be to actually trust someone with my hair. now for a girl, the hair is the secret weapon, the deal breaker, the 4th threat. the salt to your shaker, buns to your hotdog (mm, sounds dirty), the lime to your tequila (wow these are making less and less sense.) point is, a hair mistake is a minimum 2 month mistake that prevents social interactions crucial to womanhood. you fuck this up, you fuck up your future!

so im going to make an appointment for this weekend. and i couldnt do it without first documenting the grave significance of doing so. so…yeah.

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