Hair Dressers

I hate the hair dressers.
I hate people touching my hair.
I hate scissors anywhere near my hair.

Oh, but I love the smell of the shampoo they use. Seriously, what is that stuff? I'd buy a bottle.

Hair dressers in Singapore are different than they are in the USA. They do scalp massages, which are a strange combination of nice-feeling and absolute torture. They also give you ginger tea, which is nice.

I hate getting my hair cut. I love having long hair, and the sound of scissors cutting my hair never fails to irk me. The whole time I'm in that weird, round chair I'm panicking because I don't know how much the guy is cutting off. That being said, I think I got about 7 cm of hair cut of today, which I need because it was all dead at the ends anyways. But seriously, nothing is more terrifying to me beauty-wise.

Of course, in the grand scheme of things I'm quite aware that getting my hair cut is minor. However, I'm female, which therefore means I am strangely preoccupied with my looks over practical things.

I'll put pictures up of my hair/hair style later (I got it styled for a shoot), which means today will most likely be a double post. Yay~