Life is not fair. That is the truth.
Slap me hard on the head and remind me not to muse.
Life is unfair. Something dear gets wrenched from you.
A lesson to remind me to stay on my toes.
Life is never fair. That much I know.
For that is one lesson that I have lived thru.
Life is sometimes fair. That I am aware.
But only when I have no grievances to bare.
What’s fair, what’s square, what do I do?
Live with it, get bashed by it, go with the flow.
Going against the tide may just acquire you more woes.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Sunday, October 4, 2009
On Locks and Bobs - The Sequel
I chopped off the locks that have defined me all my life - at least most of it. The irony was that, even the stylist, famed for shaping bobs, tried to deter me from severing all ties with my long tresses at the start.
"I want a change". I said, as I looked at him.
"Deal. But maybe not that short", was his response.
As he worked his magic scissors on my mane, I stared at the locks that fell around the salon chair and took a walk down memory lane. I thought about the waist-length hair that I wore till I turned 14 and the disastrous bob that I acquired when I turned 17.
Now, one decade and a tad bit later, I am wearing a wavy bob - something that is fairly high maintenance considering how laid-back I am when it comes to styling. Case in point, the said stylist was midway through teaching me how to use hair-tongs to tame my wild tresses when it dawned on him to ask, "do you own one of these?", he said as he pointed to the iron rod he was using to whip my wild mane into shape.
The reply is of course negative. I don't own any mascara, not to mention hair styling equipment!
Stepping into the salon at Pacific Plaza today was part of my first foray into personal change management. It's less about the mane and what it does to my overall look but I reckoned it’s more to do with how I feel about myself.
And the good news is, I still love me! Regardless of hair length and style! And that, in the grand scheme of things, is what matters.
"I want a change". I said, as I looked at him.
"Deal. But maybe not that short", was his response.
As he worked his magic scissors on my mane, I stared at the locks that fell around the salon chair and took a walk down memory lane. I thought about the waist-length hair that I wore till I turned 14 and the disastrous bob that I acquired when I turned 17.
Now, one decade and a tad bit later, I am wearing a wavy bob - something that is fairly high maintenance considering how laid-back I am when it comes to styling. Case in point, the said stylist was midway through teaching me how to use hair-tongs to tame my wild tresses when it dawned on him to ask, "do you own one of these?", he said as he pointed to the iron rod he was using to whip my wild mane into shape.
The reply is of course negative. I don't own any mascara, not to mention hair styling equipment!
Stepping into the salon at Pacific Plaza today was part of my first foray into personal change management. It's less about the mane and what it does to my overall look but I reckoned it’s more to do with how I feel about myself.
And the good news is, I still love me! Regardless of hair length and style! And that, in the grand scheme of things, is what matters.
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