to welcome in the new year, and also because my mother recently commented that i was starting to resemble an old hag, i visited my hairstylist - and her ever violent male assistant (who without fail tortured me with an excruciating massage) - and had her chop off a whole chunk of my long-flowy-wanna-be-princess hair in favor of a shorter choppy cut that has left me feeling rather naked. i miss having hair long enough to cover my nipples. i've just been so used to my long tresses that anything above the boob baffles me; and thus, as vain as this may render me be, i have been spending a lot of my time ensconced on my fluffy bed, facing my bedroom mirror, examining the foreign image reflected in front of me and wondering why the fuck i allowed myself to get a haircut when i specifically told myself that i would grow my hair long enough to completely cloak my boobs so that i can sit on a rock by the shore and pretend to be a mermaid. sigh.

to be honest, it isn't that bad. it actually feels light and moves with every turn of my big fat head, or maybe that's just cause the violent assistant actually did a good job styling my hair post-cut - i doubt i can repeat whatever he's done to my mess of a hair.

whatever. hair is hair. it grows.

onto something else that has been the cause of my inability to fall asleep at a decent hour: my state of being school-less. while i was once excited at the prospect of never again seeing the inside of a classroom and being forced to listen to nameless professors drone on about subjects that have little interest to me, this state of being school-less has actually left me with this intense feeling of uselessness. no longer do i awake every morning with a purpose - to drag my sleepy arse to class for fear of exceeding the allocated number of absences - but now i find myself refusing to awake and instead sleep way more than the necessary; because, really, what is the point of waking when i have nothing to look forward to?

depressing as that may sound, it isn't entirely that bad. sleep makes me happy and excess sleep equates to an excessively happy - albeit rather groggy - me; but i guess it just bothers me that my "intellectual" life has reached a stand still. sure, i have that thesis bullshit i've been meaning to finish, but with the lack of pressure that an educational institution provides, i find myself conjuring endless excuses on why i should put off writing for another day. this is why i should never ever pretend to be a writer - i'm too lazy to be one. but i really need to get writing soon though because the deadline for the anthology project is looming and i really want to submit something worthy of publication and not some randomly strewn sentences pretending to be a story.

if only i could write as much as i blog, i bet i would be done with it by now. i fail.