Liz Goes to the Hair Salon

I wouldn't say I have a Buenos Aires alter ego, but I certainly have been living an unbelievable life here in the city. I go by Liz, as Elizabeth is too hard to say in Spanish. Liz speaks Spanish (or at least tries), stays out until 5am, quits class to travel to Peru, seizes every moment, watches tango, rides the Subte, goes to concerts and the theater, drinks mate, embraces the no-plan plan, loves life.

And this Saturday Liz woke up and decided to go get her hair cut.

Without much thought or haircut vocabulary in her brain, Liz marched to the salon. Soon after sitting down in the chair, she realized perhaps this was a horrible idea. The client right before me received a crazy mullet, resembling such:

I flashed back to when I went and got my haircut in Barcelona. That turned out successfully though.

With broken Spanish and fingers nervously gripped to the barber chair, I made it though, and it turned out great and mullet-free!

Stay tuned for more of Liz's adventures. Big blog update to come once I can get my photos uploaded!