No one can take my freedom away!

When I was in school, we used have a singing class every Saturday. Much that I hated it, I always found a good excuse for being silent during group singing sessions. The L.F.S (Little Flower School) song-book, however still continues to be one of my precious possessions. It has soooooo many memories associated with friends, teachers and myself.

After many years I took a look at my songbook again. One of the songs in it is 'Una Paloma Blanca'. Its such a beautiful song. It makes me feel strong and fills me with a sense of independence.

Here it is :

When the sun shines on the mountain
And the night is on the run
It's a new day
It's a new way
And I fly up to the sun

I can feel the morning sunlight
I can smell the new-mown hay
I can hear God's voice is calling
For my golden sky light way

Una paloma blanca
I'm just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountains I fly
No one can take my freedom away

Once I had my share of losing
for they locked me on a chain
Yes they tried to break my power
oh I still can feel the pain

Una paloma blanca
I'm just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountains I fly
No one can take my freedom away

Una paloma blanca
I'm just a bird in the sky
Una paloma blanca
Over the mountains I fly
No one can take my freedom away

On getting a bad haircut

A haircut gone horribly wrong is a living nightmare. What makes this even worse is that we can't do a thing about it. I have been a victim of such disasters quite seldom. But I wasn't really lucky last weekend. Here is my story of getting a bad.... really bad haircut :

I was always impressed by the kind of stylish haircuts the models in the magazines wear. They look sooooooo good! And here I am, sporting the same look ever since I remember looking at the mirror. After a lot of persuation from friends, I finally dared to try something new yesterday.

I am not much into the "style" thing. I get easily impressed by anything that looks pretty to me. While sitting in the barber shop, I was taking a look at the magazines they had to help (confuse) me to decide what kind of a hair-do I want. The "before" and "after" looks of the models looked so fasctinating! Quite dumbly, I choose the prettiest face ( and not probably the prettiest hair cut) to go ahead with.

My barber is in her mid-fiftees. I doubt whether she could actually see what I wanted and what she was doing. She kept talking to me regarding my work, school, hometown.. blah blah.. While her scissors sliced through my hair, I tried assuring myself that I'll look stunning (uhh.. if not, just "better") in the new look. It didn't take her long to finish off the cutting. Finally, I was ready to look into the mirror for "the moment of truth" .... When she spun me around to look in the mirror, I just about died. WHAT THE HELL!!!!! I was.... almost like... butchered! I looked nowhere like me or that model in the picture. :(
The lady, however, seemed to be very delighted with her creation... and why wouldn't she be? She had almost invented the new "moron" look !

I gave her a pathetic smile, made the payment and almost ran off the shop. As I walked towards my car, I felt mortified, as if everyone were snickering at my stupid look. Soon, I reached home, only to hear a roar of laughter from friends...

Whatta day! Phew!