Once a month i get this panic attack because it’s time to trim my ever messy mane. Don’t you just dread going to the hair salon??

Hmm… i find it a waste of time – i could do lots (like sleeping) with 2 whole hours spent in the salon of doing nothing. Every time i sit on the salon chair, i always get this paranoid feeling that my bum keeps growing and keeps getting bigger by the minute. Serious. It might just be my imagination but i feel uncomfortable like that. And on bad days, the chatty brat washing my hair sounds more annoying than usual. Sometimes i do wish i had brought the fly swatter.

But on some rare occasion (like today) it felt like i’m a celebrity for a day. It’s not always that people gives you their utmost attention, smile at you like you’re something special (even though perhaps it’s because you are earning them some $$$) and even serve you drinks.

It felt oh so good to get my head and shoulder massaged; given that the ah lian with super long finer nails is no longer around so my scalp wasn’t treated as a cat scratching post substitute for a change. And they use this minty hair care that gives me the Zen feel. I likey.

On luckier days like today, my hair get blow dried to silkiness by 2 men – the shampoo boy and my favorite handsome hairstylist in an unflattering black vest. The hairstylist cut my hair slowly but surely because there’s no other customer. I even get to read my travel book without interruption.

But the owner of the vest is point-blank refusing to cut my hair short. Apparently, i’m a boring person and he is getting bored with my short hairstyle. Yes, HE is getting bored of MY hairstyle. So, he purposely left it a bit longer should i change my mind to let my hair grow long. I tell you his attempt is futile because this is like the hundredth times he tried to get my hairstyle changed but i still swear by short hair.

I should tell him i’m getting bored with his vests.