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2001-06-28 - 2:30 p.m.

I wonder if I write the type of journal entry I would want to read.

Iím getting my hair cut today. I donít like getting my hair cut, which is probably the reason my hair has been long for most of my life. But I cut it short a few months back, and now I need one every six weeks or so. If I donít go soon, it will be long enough to tie back, and then Iíll never cut my hair again. I cut it short back in February, when Gary and I were fighting, and I felt I had so little control over what was going on in my life. I knew I had to do something, and the decision was made hastily, on a Friday afternoon (after a quick phone call to Salvatore, who hemmed and hawed and didnít know what to say when I asked if I should cut my hair, until I apologized and promised never to put him through that again).

Thereís something so disconcerting about sitting in a chair, staring at yourself in a mirror, surrounded by women getting waxed and bleached and dyed. I feel out of place, and I never answer the questions right. ďSo what do you do to your hair?Ē I wash it. I brush it. I used to blow it dry, but the dryer broke, and I didnít feel like replacing it. So now I let it air dry, even though itís unruly, and takes forever to dry all the way through. No, I donít want to buy fancy shampoo and conditioner. No, I donít want my hair colored. Whatís wrong with the color it is?

She intimidates me, my hairstylist, because she is hip and little and beautiful and has pointed nails and a big diamond ring sparkling on her ring finger. She cuts my hair almost haphazardly, randomly, and has learned not to ask too many questions, because I fear that more than getting a bad haircut. Last time, she didnít even try to sell me the fancy shampoo and conditioner.

So Iíll go, and Iíll sit in the chair, and when she asks me how I want my hair cut, my hands will wave confusingly around, and Iíll say enigmatic things like ďshorter. Can you make it shorter? Itís just too big.Ē And hopefully, sheíll know what I mean.

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