Ever since I turned thirty I decided to do something 'groundbreaking' on every birthday. Last year I had snipped most of my hair off. A decision I still am not sure about. On some days I do miss my hair. But then I realise how convenient it is have short hair when you live in the land of forever winter. And yet I hate it sometimes. Then I start hating the cold. It could be paralysing at times. Believe me. Half my body aches owing to have to remain curled up most of the time. How the hell am I supposed to take care of my long mane if I can barely function physically?

So this year I was looking for ideas. Something new to do to my body that I would regret deeply later on and yet pretend to the whole world how happily adventurous I am. An arm tattoo was the original plan (This one is the safest bait as I love getting tattooed) but somehow that didn't pan out. A fifth or sixth piercing could have done but I am seriously running out of places on my earlobes.

So then I did it. On one fine afternoon I left office and walked straight into a salon and asked for it. A perm. Me, a person with naturally straight hair, I was suddenly craving for some change in my look. Seriously, sometimes I wonder how much I must loathe myself. No wonder I snigger at people who claim to be comfortable with their ungroomed (kinda hideous) looks. Who the fuck you think you are man? Anyway. So after going through excruciating pain for next five hours I came home with head full of curly, fluffy hair. My entire head was aching from all that rollers and I was famished and exhausted from sitting up in that chair while three women doing my hair while speaking in local language that I despise with all my heart. The reflection in the mirror obviously looked different. I did look different. Not a single thing in my life had changed though. Except for the chemical bonding of my hair. I don't know about you normal people (Read 'ugly and proud of it') but for deeply and immensely screwed up people like us, it feels kinda good.

And yet, here I am. Roughly a month later, and I am hating my hair. I regret my decision. I don't know how curly haired people even live with themselves. Curly hair sucks. It's like walking around with head full of pubic hair. And nobody is proud of their pubic hair. So don't be surprised if a few weeks later I write another post with my artificially straightened hair. I really really miss my straight hair.