It was a hot Wednesday, and i was going to get my hair cut. Candy had thought that they had a meeting right after school so we where at Tufts Hospital. Jada was in the bathroom and of course i awkwardly stand outside. After a while of very awkward waiting, an old Asian lady walks up to a broken water fountain trying to wash some prunes or something. Shes asks me in English. "How to work this?" or something equally broken. I reply in Cantonese
"I think its broken"
"Oh, You're Asian. Thanks"
And she walks away. Later, I go to SuperCuts, and the lady who cuts my hair cut my hair really weird. I asked for it shorter. And then shorter. Until it became as short as one of my old haircuts. My long black hair fell to the floor and i realized, there was nothing special about this haircut. It looks the same as when i used to get it next to SunSun. But i went there, baring in mind that i would look different. I would no longer look how i did. Maybe i would look more attractive. Maybe i would look less American. Maybe, i would look more Asian. I'm pretty sure i didnt think of this when i was getting my haircut, but now that i think about it, it all makes sense. I cant balance it. I cant balance different aspects of my life. I cant.