While I did intended to whine about the depressed state of my laptop (and me) with that annoying Windows Loop virus that has yet to be resolved, I found something of greater interest to write about. It's actually rather trivial, yet it's something that I have tolerated for years.

Haircuts.

Now, don't get me wrong. I relish haircuts like the rush of sensation when gulping down an icy h2o after an amateurish bout of badminton. Incidently, it's not the result I abhore, it's the Process of it. Not the snipping, not the shearing.. it's the SHAVING.

Let me explain why:

I will absobloodylutely stiffen whenever the electric shavers at the hair salons is within a 15cm radius of my mop. The sound is just so piercingly whinny that try as I might, I can't block it out. It gets worst. Oh, trust me on that. When it's just used to skim the edges off my thick mop, I'm already skittishly skimmish and would invariably fidget. Except that I would shut my eyes and control myself.

And. The dreaded high-pitched buzzing approaches nearer my ear. Already intolerably difficult not to fidget, the intense moment arrives when the sharp-razor edged equipment is drawn tightly down on my hair until it scraps my skin. And Over and Over again it is pressed down against my naked skin.

THAT. is usually when I am unable to suppress myself, and I will shiver at random intervals whenever the shaver is drawing upon the nape of my neck or head, against the skin. ugh.

Having had my haircuts in M'sia since a kid till leaving primary school, my memory of childhood haircuts were of 93.3 chinese voices battering over the shop, with loads of hair snipping, hair dryers bellowing away and electric razors being snapped on by non-too-tender hands and set upon a kid's newly-formed mushroom mop for the perfect fungal apparition. Almost every single trip, I will always hang on as best as I can until the lady puts the shaver away. Occasionally, only after a slight repair of my hair when a shiver has minorly upset the perfect straight line.

Shavers are necessary evils of short and easily maintained hairstyles. So even while I seemingly wish that all shavers would self-destruct and disappear leaving behind a poof of dust, I think deep down, sometimes the shivers are somewhat deliciously dispelled.

MMmmm. Strange quirks of the human body. Or maybe, just mine. :)

Cheerios folks. Will update after I put my girlfriends to the painful taste test of my home-made 1st-ever baked batch of Gingerbread men. Oh, I'm gonna subject Ter's dinner guests to that too. Har har :D