Slash

I've been wanting to have my hair cut for many months now. I wanted to have a new look last Christmas, for graduation, before my first day at work and many times in between. But I never had the courage and energy to enter a salon and just get on with it.

Mother wanted me to keep my hair long and has many times told me that cutting it would break her heart. I don't know how having a haircut could affect her so much. I heeded because I constantly reminded myself that it was I who made all the decisions in everything else in my life. My hairstyle is such a small thing.

But looking at the mirror everyday and seeing how ugly, brittle and consumed with split ends my hair was, the urge to have a haircut became greater. And yesterday, when I couldn't take it anymore and while my parents were out, I finally went to a salon.

I was lying on the couch watching tv, then got up supposedly to get something to eat. Then the thought once again occurred, I want a haircut. I knew that there is a salon on the next block. Without rationalizing, I got my comb and purse and headed for the salon. Some five minutes later, I found myself knocking on the gate of a house that had a signboard "Angel's Salon" (if I remember it right).

An old lady came out and I told her that I want a haircut. "May sakit si Angel, umiinom nga kami ng orange juice kasi wala s'yang panlasa," she answered. Then Angel came out saying that it's okay, she can manage. I hesitated a little but I could not turn away and say No, I don't trust this kid (she looks like a high school student) with my hair. I'm also very idle and I don't like the idea of going back home to get changed so that I will be presentable in going to a salon in the city. That would be too time and energy consuming. That salon and the kid were good enough.

When I got inside the house (salon), she asked what kind of cut I wanted and what length did I want it to be. There were no magazines to check out and I know only two styles, slash and straight. I didn't think I wanted it straight so I said I wanted a slash. She got a pair of scissors that looked like normal scissors, not the type used in normal salons. Oh my. And I thought that perhaps I was getting punished because I was betraying my mother and having my hair cut behind her back. But I did not complain and I decided to trust the sick girl. Good luck to my hair.

I tried not to look at how she was doing her thing. But I could make out that she did not do it the same way other stylists did. Huhu. Still, she heard nothing from me.

While she was cutting (and slashing?) my hair, my thoughts wandered. I remembered that it was years ago when I had my last haircut. And many times before, the decision was always easy to make. I did it when something major came to my life - I was very happy over something, I got an award or citation, my heart got broken, I was letting go of things/people, etc. And I asked myself, So what happy or heartbreaking thing happened to me? But I couldn't point out anything. For the first time, I had my hair cut because I wanted it cut. Period. It's not really very ugly. I have only given that as an excuse. I also did not do it because I wanted to defy my mother. It breaks my heart every time I defy her. Yet I always do. Hehe.

After thirty minutes, I was back in front of the television. Done is my hair. Did the sick young stylist make me beautiful? No, for I still have the same face and features. But I surely felt better because I finally did it. I hope that every morning when I look in the mirror, I wouldn't say bad things about my hair anymore. But then, if I do, my hair can still get shorter. Hehe.

Note: Mama did not even realize I had a haircut!!! How could she?! My hair is now three or more inches shorter. Something must be very wrong with her eyes. But it's a good thing. At least I did not have to explain. And what she doesn't know won't hurt her. Hehe