John is back from Scotland, and I finally got to see him last weekend. We went to Gasworks in Seattle, had a mini picnic (I made sandwiches), befriended some dogs, and just enjoyed each other’s company. I took some pictures of him… he didn’t really enjoy his impromptu photo shoot, but I didn’t mind.
I am not impulsive by nature. I usually think through any big decisions with care, considering all possible outcomes, weighing the pros and cons, etc.
I’ve been thinking about getting my hair cut for the past… oh… 2 months or so, which is typical for each time I finally get it cut. Last week I decided that the time had come for me to finally get it cut. But for some reason, I couldn’t wait to make an appointment. I wanted it cut, and I wanted it cut NOW.
A friend of mine that was on one of my RA Staffs at Western once got her hair cut by flipping her head over so her hair fell in front of her face, and then the hair stylist cut it straight. When she flipped it back, she had some layers. The stylist neatened it up a bit and added a few more layers. It was such an easy thing to do… so she did for her sister and another of our friends.
So that got me thinking. It couldn’t be that hard, right?
On one of my most impulsive/spontaneous wild whims, I decided to cut my hair myself. Some part of me still can’t believe I did it. All things considered, it really didn’t turn out that bad. I’m a bit of a perfectionist, so of course I think about all the things I should have done or should fix… but it’s growing on me.
I almost think it’s cute.