Furiously Furious

I m so so so so so fumingly flamingly furiously furious. How could I let an Aunty cut my hair. I've vowed not to let any Aunty touch my hair. Oh my GAWDDDD....Although it's just the front fringe (because I no longer can see the road clearly with my hair covering half of my face)...it's so so so inacceptable...Oh man...If I m pretty like Jessica Alba I don't care how bad the hairstyle is, but since I m not her and I m me...and now I've got this stupid fringe...How am I going to meet anyone? I feel like "marinating" myself at home and not to meet anyone until my hair grow longer.

This is not the first time. There's once I pay quite a lot for a professional haircut and then not even 2 weeks after that...my grandaunt insists me to get a haircut becoz she can't accept that style and then she brought (more like dragged) me to this little shop in Thailand where you can feel technology stops there...there goes an Aunty holding a pair of scissors and a small little comb...she started to cut while I just shut my eyes and pray. When I opened my eyes...I couldn't say anything...I m stuck with bad hairstyle for 2 blardy months!!! My heart was crying so loud the scissors can hear me. I m vain, vain and very vain when it comes to my hair.

Oh gosh...this time is with my grandma. History repeats again itself. I m not going to any place with scissors, comb and shampoo with any old woman anymore. It's too dangerous. I can't take the risk because I'm weak with old women, I can't say NO, because I dont want to dissapoint them. Oh no...I felt like having a heart attack now. So SAD...