Saturday, December the 23rd, 2006

but I’m someone’s child.

This has been a week that’s brought about some changes. For one, for the first time ever, I bought a coworker a Christmas gift. That isn’t news in itself, but it’s just spending so much time with her over the past semester and seeing how much stress she (and I, actually) was put through, I just had to do something nice for her. And it felt great to do so. Perhaps this will be a recurring theme in the future.

And, a couple of days ago, I completed a final exam for a math class. This is news because it completes the final requirement toward a mathematics master’s degree I was working on (as a slight detour along the way to the engineering and computing PhDs). Yes, I am now a master of mathematics. I know it isn’t kung-fu, but fear me!

I left the hall very relieved, but slightly saddened, for I realised this was probably the last ever class I was going to take, ever. This is a big deal to me since I’ve been going to class and learning things for over 24 years now. (Yes people, I am a lot older than I sound, and I am still very much in school.)

Another forthcoming change, since I have not really highlighted it enough on the journal, is that I’m heading home to India tomorrow. It was all decided kinda sudden, in that one day my mom randomly bought me tickets and e-mailed me the information. I most definitely am looking forward to some much-needed R&R.

And finally, I had a “haircut” yesterday. I didn’t really mean to, for I stopped by and explicitly asked for her to condition it, make it more manageable and just even things out a little. And before you know it, the Asian lady (my regular woman was out of commission) was all over me and Asianising my hair. God damn it woman, I am not that kind of Asian. I hate the fucking spikes you love so much.

Oh well, at least she is easy… to amuse. “Would you like me to blend your sideburns with your beard?” “Beard? What beard? Oh no, there is no beard, I just haven’t shaved in a couple of days.” At which point, she’s laughing hysterically going, “You’re so funny!”

Was it funny? No. I told you she was easy.

Anyway, about the crappy haircut, I think my problem is that I only follow one Golden Rule when it comes to fashion sense / style / appearance opinions in general: Ask the woman in the room. She most probably knows her stuff, and isn’t shy about sharing it. Besides, even if neither of you know what you’re talking about, at least you’re aligned with the one who cares about this sort of thing.

The problem with the Golden Rule is when the only woman in the room is this dumb Asian lady who has an unnatural obsession for anime characters. But hey, at least it gives my parents a focal point to yell at when I get home. That way, it’s just so much easier to compartmentalise!

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3 Responses to “I ain’t good lookin’…”

  1. Michelle says:

    I didn’t even realize you might be close to my age, I thought you were much younger.

    Wait, didn’t you tell your age in comments on another post? I think you did and I’ve just forgotten the number. Well, that’s nothing new.

    Anyway, I can sympathize on the bad haircut! I’ve been going around to different places since I moved here, and I ask for a chin length bob with long layers. It’s a very simple, basic cut, except so far no one in Arkansas seems to know what it looks like, and therefore I continue to leave the hair salon with variations on “mom hair” from 1982.

    I might have to follow your mother’s lead and buy a plane ticket for my hair cutting friend in Maryland, once this latest hair don’t grows out some.

  2. pundit says:

    I am not much younger than you are, I am 26!

    And perhaps, you can rope in your hair-cutting friend from Maryland by offering her a glimpse at the wonders around your new home in Arkansas.

  3. Michelle says:

    After I made that comment, I read back a bit and found that you are indeed 5 years younger than I. It was the part about spending 24 years in school that made me think you were closer to my age, as generally speaking kids don’t start “real” school until about five here.

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