So, I was fairly angry at my hair on Saturday, and I did what any logical woman would do, I got it all chopped off. The guy used a razor to cut my hair and I'm not sure why, because I've been taught not to use a razor on naturally curly hair, but I've noticed no disastrous effects, so everything might turn out okay. There's really not much more to say about a haircut, so I'd like to talk about the mall instead.
I'm only slightly embarrassed to admit that the mall is pretty much my favorite place in the whole world. Not one mall in particular, but malls in general. I have loved malls for years. In high school, I wrote a poem about my most-frequented mall at the time--that was a 7-floor mall which I knew so thoroughly that I could direct anyone to the exact location of any store or restaurant in the mall. I was that good.
Last summer, I convinced Angel that taking a road trip to Minnesota was a good idea, mainly because it has been my dream to visit the Mall of America since I was a little kid and heard that the Mall of America existed. It was just as amazing as I expected it to be.
I frequent our area malls on a regular basis, too. It's not that I'm a shopping fiend of any kind. I'm actually not an impulse buyer at all. To me, the mall is just a happy place to be. I love seeing all the people, eavesdropping on tidbits of conversations, staring in at the window displays of the fine jewelry stores, and giving Angel my honest opinions of the clothes I see that do not meet my high standards of fashionable ingenuity. Occasionally I will fall in love with a pair of polka-dot sneakers or a sparkly sweater, but I can easily go to the mall without spending anything.
Do you have a happy place where you go just for fun? Is it a more reasonable one, like, say, a park? I like those, too.