1. “How would you like your hair cut today, sir?”. Is the one-word sentence “shorter” an acceptable answer? I would imagine most men would have no idea how to describe their desired hair style [or if they know their desired hairstyle]. Occasionally the hairdresser will produce a sheet of haistyles (modelled on people who have perfect bone structure). Dismayed by the pictures [“these wouldn’t look good on me”], I describe “shorter” using phrases like “not too short on top, short on the sides, can you thin it out?”
2. Clipper numbers. “Will a number 4 be OK?”. I don’t know. Its just a number. Am I supposed to know the answer to this? Furthermore, is it OK to request a size 4 and then discover that it needs to be a 3 later on in the haircut, is that offensive?
3. Side burns - Do i keep them or get rid of them? I mean, who thinks about their side-burns? Its not exactly something you ponder each day [Oh…look at his side-burns, I WISH that I had side-bruns like that!]
4. The paper-ring around the neck. It’s just a little too creepy, and that scraping noise it makes when it scratches your beard is INTOLERABLE. Like fingernails on a chalkboard. <sarcasm>Although the cape is über-stylish. I have to hold myself back from enquiring where I could purchase one.</sarcasm>
5. “How does this look?” the haridresser will enquire, while holding a mirror at the back of my head. This is the ONLY time I ever see the back of my head, I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to look like. I try to look at my hair but can only wonder where that extra-freckel came from. And before I know it the surreal moment is over and the mirror is whisked-away.
6. “What kind of product would you like in your hair?” — uhh.…pick one. I’m not going to use it again anyway. Do I LOOK like a man who uses product?
7. A new haircut never looks good. Ever. The dissatisfaction level with the end result is always high (but not high enough to complain). Its too short, too long, the sides arent just right. I decide that it will be OK, it will grow out soon anyway.
8. “Did you get a haircut?” friends enquire. No. I have a rare degenerative disease where my hair will shorten itself periodically.
9. Two weeks later my hair looks great. Always. This is part of  newtons-law.
10. Three weeks later I dont care.
11. Four weeks later people (those people) start making comments about the fact that I need a haircut.

There are support-groups for people like me, who are traumatised by the process of a bad-haircut. Would anyone like to join me?

The house I am staying in is very nice. Its a three story, with about six bedrooms and three living areas. The backyard is MASSIVE (the area would be the same area the house takes up), and contained within one corner are in chickens. (Yes, people in the city have chooks! shock horror i know). Also, three dogs and several birds. There was once a rabbit, but it met a tragic end too explicit for wordpress (okay it ran away, but i had you going).

The house itself is located in Rouse Hill (one of those newly developed areas), about 10 minutes from Norwest where Hillsong is. There is a massive shopping centre here (its supposed to be one of the biggest in Sydney when its done). Really modern with timber glass architecture. There were heaps of security guards (i saw 5 in a 50m stretch) and I couldn’t figure out why, but later I read in the paper that there was a bomb threat there last week.

The family is wonderful. Dee and John are the parents (middle aged, very nice people) who have five kids (I think? I keep losing count) three boys aged 17, eight and six and two girls aged 16 and six.

I am missing everyone at home, especially mum and the Taylors. Mum is having her knee replacement tomorrow, Hillsong is praying for a miracle recovery.

Tomorrow I finally get to actually start studying. I can’t wait. This is it, the beginning of a change in me that will be irreversible. After years of waiting I finally get to learn bible. Im majoring in TV and media for the first year, seeing as that is where my gifting is. No telling where God will take me.

Someone is knocking on the door, better finish up (and explain to them why I had the computer in the bathroom, lol)

–Alex