Wish Me Luck...

I noticed it on the way to class today – it has become an unconscious, almost reflexive action…and I don’t know how. That’s a bit of an exaggeration, I know how it happened, I just didn’t expect it so soon, I certainly didn’t plan for this particular twitch to once again rear its ugly head during my time here in Paris, but, alas, it has resurfaced. It’s been years since I’ve suffered from this particular affliction and I certainly feel ill-equipped to overcome this…twitch... here in a foreign country. It’s a little intimidating, but certainly could make for a rather amusing experience for all of you while traumatizing me – a small price to pay, I guess.

The affliction: walking down the street I realized that I jerk my head upward and to the right every 20 yards or so. This isn’t some neurological abnormality or anything of that sort…my hair has gotten too long and I must flip my damn bangs out of my eyes.

Stop laughing.

Seriously, I looked awesome Junior year of college with the mop on my head – I even had cornrows once…you know you’re all jealous…damn it I need a haircut. I didn’t even think about this before I left the states…this is intimidating…I know that the word for hair in French is close to the word for horse and I’m a little concerned that an innocent mare will end up being lacerated as a result of my sub par French…I could always make sure Abbey is with me…she is, after all, an ABD French Literature PhD student…no! I need to learn. I will get a haircut. By myself. I’ll look up some French vocab and if I come from la salon looking like a molting cockatoo then it will just serve as motivation for learning French and as amusement for all of you. Please wish me luck.