My father came down from New York on Thursday, and we've been bumming around the Clovis/Portales area for two days. Went to the mall, ate at the Red Lobster, and got a haircut.
My mother usually cuts my hair, since 1. she's good at it, and b. it's free. But I think I'm going to be going to a barber from now on. I'd grown a beard, but it was one of those scraggly hippie beards that keeps me from the finer things in life- jobs, women, respect, etc.
Well, no more! The lovely Mexican women of our local barber shop have trimmed my beard down to a respectable length, as well as shaping it into something that fits my face.
Finally, I can do this:
Friday, May 15, 2009
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