Sunday 16.09.2012

10447099-1303902060-952790 - CopyA day before my faculty start, mum and I went to get new haircuts at Marion’s. Tim took the job for me again. He prepared his trimmer, but mum told him to use scissors only. She decided to allow grandma and dad’s affection for my hair to be longer. I don’t live in the 90’s anymore. While he was doing it, I felt very disappointed and embarrassed of my eyebrows. On the mirror, the thing didn’t seem as serious as I thought, yet I couldn’t look at him. It was the real me, but it wasn’t the me I wanted to see. I missed the time when I didn’t want to go to a hairdresser just because I thought I’d smile there.

Mum entered in the shop, while Michael, who demanded her to buy Bungee – materialist, and I were waiting for her outside. I chose to hide aside and Barbara’s father asked me what was I doing. M. wasn’t satisfied with it, he couldn’t convince me to come out, so he distanced. I wouldn’t have seen them leaving if M. didn’t call me. I didn’t want to go at their house, I went out to get a haircut. In front of their house, grandma R. passed and told them to respect my choice. However I didn’t leave, but after going to their garden, I went upstairs. I just wanted to repent alone, didn’t want my shame to grow bigger. Grandma D. said:
-Even if he’s bad, he is your uncle.
He was not bad, I was.
How could I do this change just before my longly awaited period? This balancing between the real and the fake me will kill me. I should have shaved my legs last summer to see that drastic hair removal is noticeable and negatively received, but I decided to be fake, making the mistake now, only this one is much more serious ‘cause like our Art professor put it: “When you look at people, first you look at their eyes”. People will notice, but will they say it to me? At least the other part of my face isn’t changed. Is it enough?

I told grandma mum listened to other people about my haircut, which she understood it as referral to Michael. Why don’t some people look further then themselves?

Grandad told me the woodcutter said: “Leslie’s child is very disgusting”. I was smiling.
-Why are you smiling? – Grandad asked me.
-I am cheerful. – I said.
That’s what I wanted some people to think. Like I’m food. So, he’s a bad guy.

Eventually M. softened and we lied together.

In the afternoon Barbara came for my USB and 2 CD’s. I gave them to her.

I thought of my eyebrows again. Mum told me it was an excuse not to get relaxed, but you know well it isn’t. This is something I have been waiting so long. I wanted to prepare better, but I only made it worse. Yet, I won’t let it stay on my way especially when other people come in question. I worry too much, but it will be past eventually. Soon.

Mum told me to go out from home at 7:00 a.m.. I was willing to obey her. The mines’ bus passes along my house at 7:09, so I’ll see them. The question is will I say “Hello” to them. I really want to, but will I sustain an outbreak of my feelings when I see me and them on the same location? Besides every time when I pass at the post office I remember me and them. Yes, I’d love my real me to start with them. Could they bring back the sincere smile I have forgotten these days?

Anyway things were far from perfect. In the evening on I saw that 37 from 53 students on my faculty were males, something I haven’t experienced before. I also saw that the next day, the first academy lesson starts at 11 for the students on Computer Studies. Aïe! Bad. My parents had two solutions:

  1. Go at 7:15 with dad to buy a cell phone.
  2. Go alone at 10:00, but with a bus from Preevytip.

What could I do? I wanted my parents to decide, but said I to make the decision on my own. But if I went at 7 with dad could I say “Hello” to the mines?


About Real real me

Writing a diary. Life is a FIGHT!
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s