Dang.
The next few days shall prove interesting, I think.One of my best friends of the past, oh, say eighteen years or so, is getting married this Saturday. I'm going to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. Those of you who know me, know that this is sort of really quite funny. I keep teasing Angela, telling her that she's going to hate me because nobody's going to be paying any attention to her at her own wedding. After all, "OMG Sarah is wearing...makeup? Her hair is...combed? OMG!"
So, in preparation, Jasmin is making me get a real haircut tonight. I told her she could do whatever she wanted. I trust her; I think. I've been pretty okay with it until just now. My mom made some off-hand comment about hoping she cuts it all off, and suddenly I'm quite anxious.
Mind you, I'm not anxious she'll get me a really hideous haircut. Quite the opposite. What if I look normal, and people think I'm trying? I'd have to like, pay attention to my appearance. At twenty-three, it's really just too late to pick up a bad habit like that. What was I thinking?