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2002-07-05 - 4:32 p.m.

I got a bad haircut. My hair is longer than Iíve ever worn it (since High School where I was a fan of bowl cut. We wonít go there) and itís wavy goldenness is something Iíve come to like. Normally I run around with short spikes, the natural curl imprisoned by gel, and the sides buzzed within millimeters of their lives.

Now, however I have something that Iíll call the German Businessmanís cut. Itís not long or short. It creates a vast helmet around my head. I dread what it will look like in the morning sans any straightening conditioner or style products. Itís my own fault though. I got a ďSupercutĒ instead of waiting for a Salon appointment. The last time I had a ďSupercutĒ the hairdresser, or folic artist, whatever, tried to cruise me. And the haircut wasnít half bad. This time around however the woman cutting my hair didnít understand what I meant by just a little trim on the sides. I should have been more forceful, or at least stopped her. So Iím thinking Iíll try to get an appointment this weekend to have it fixed. Iíll forgo the pleasures of lengthy hair and instead settle in with my traditional spikes. Iím supposed to go out tonight, with some friends to the city. The urge to bail has actually gone so far as to dial the phone. I havenít pressed send yet though, so it seems that there might be some hope.

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