I'm cutting my hair soon - at least ten inches off. Short hair will do me good - it's easier to wash, easier to maintain. Not to mention the amount of hair I've been dropping lately. This morning, before church, I managed to comb out (with great difficulty) a hairball the size of my first that was tangled with the hair still attached to my roots. I kid you not.
Another reason why I'm getting a haircut is because I've stopped pursuing love, for now anyway. I'm not actively seeking for any prospective boyfriends - it's not as if any boys here will look at me, really. Somewhat a melancholy thought, considering that I'm smack in the middle of high school - isn't high school meant to be some of the best years of your life? Not for me, apparently.
When school begins, I'm thinking of slipping the most ridiculously cheesy warm-and-fuzzyesque letter into C's locker. I don't have any romantic feelings for him or anything, but I do admire him as a person - he's an overachiever, smart, athletic, just really refreshing all around. He's someone I'd aspire to me. He's a convenient target too, because his locker number is no. 365 and mine's no. 368. If all goes well, I'll be able to catch him in the act of reading it, look at the reaction on his face and snigger to myself privately. Haha, I'm such a creep. It's a harmless prank, I swear. I hope it lifts his spirits.
Anyway, I digress.
I haven't mentioned the happenings of the previous couple of months. It's depressing to write about, but I'll try my best to get everything out.
