From time to time, I get the blues for no particular reason, which I guess it’s quite normal this time of year (especially if you, like me, live in the northern hemisphere). I know I’m not alone in this one. And from time to time, neither a new pair of shoes, nor new lipstick, nor a new haircut succeeds in pulling me out of this funk. When nothing else will do (and sometimes even when something else will do just fine), the response to the blues is comfort food – thus named for a reason. Continue reading
My hair came back from Barbados with a serious case of identity crisis; it simply refused to believe it was no longer in Barbados.
I can’t blame it. My name was on the plane ticket and even I can’t believe I’m no longer there.
Since I hadn’t cut my hair in nearly six months, two weeks of sun, heat and swimming in the sea amounted to about two years of damage. So about a week ago, I decided it was time to live up to my promises to myself and cut it short. Continue reading
I’ve recently cut my hair short (very short), and I’m still coming to grips with it. It’s funny how a small gesture can have such a huge impact on the way you go about life.
I knew something was definitely changed when I was walking home last night. I was all in black, happily swinging my umbrella on the nook of my arm, when this charming man in a dark suit, ochre knit tie and family ring touched me on the shoulder. When I turned around to look at him, he said “I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Continue reading