Sanguine Xarissa

Out of impulse and a recurring vision that I'm starting to be 'gusot' [beats me where my grandmother got the term], I went to visit the salon after office. The last time I got a hair cut was in 2006 when I had my locks chopped to be donated to the Guimaras oil-spill. There are no oil spills to speak of today, but hey, sometimes style is enough reason for a make-over.

Before the stylist snipped off my hair, she took care of a butch-looking [i'm sorry for being politically incorrect, i don't have any terms] person who, after the session, looked much like a man. When it was my turn, the hairdresser expertly cut and 'texturized' my wavy hair into a short do which resembles an emo balara boy's. I had no qualms because that's exactly how I wanted it. As soon as she was done styling my hair, she said, "Ayan, mukha ka ng lalaki." I giggled and said, "Hindi naman po 'yon ang gusto kong ma-achieve, pero salamat." I lfet her a hefty tip. I like my hair now, even if I looked like a boy in it.

Emo. Haha.

Later, I found myself reserving [and getting] a pink pair of oakley shades. I bullied my father to getting it for me but then I decided to pay for it myself [eep, i know] and whoa, oakley glasses [this one's orig] don't come cheap. I don't hafta disclose the price as I might decide to resell it later when I'm broke but these pink shades definitely give new meaning to 'looking at the world through rose-colored glasses.' I likey.

It's pink and legally ditzy.

Wah. I'm back at the BROKEback mountains again. :'(