The first cut is not the deepest, necessarily.

I was 24. I was new to town, a bit naïve, and getting ready to go to a party, when my flatmate at the time, McD, introduced me to a friend of hers. I didn’t know that many people, and I’d been burnt a few times, so I was surprised when I met her friend Marco how well we got on.

He made me feel beautiful. He paid me attention. He gave me glasses of wine and asked me questions. We had a steady relationship for 10 years – even keeping in touch when I moved to Dublin for a one year working holiday.  Hell, I used to give him a card and a bottle of wine at Christmas. But, over time, Marco became a bit… complacent. Assuming I would always return.  I was faithful to him, even when he kept me waiting 20 minutes, or passed me to someone else.

But life changes and now I find myself in the outer east after many years within tramming distance of Marco, and I felt like it was time to look around for other possibilities.

So, I am having a passionate fling with Jose the hairdresser at Knox. Feeling flippant and daring last Friday night, I let him do exactly want he wanted with my hair and he made it modern and stunning and charged me less, and didn’t keep me waiting. I don’t feel much guilt about Marco, not yet. He might not even miss me.  I know it’s the first flush of this fledgling hairdressing partnership, but it feels good for now, even if it doesn’t end up being a lifelong commitment.

Running Update: a bit meh at the moment, two or three 5k-runs a week. Will attempt to up the ante this weekend and come back to you.

Melbourne update: (New!) it’s pissing down rain, everyone is talking about Michelle Payne’s victory and the racegoer in the blue dress who pushed a cop into a bush infront of a channel 7 cameraman. 60000 Oaks Day punters are currently heading in the direction of Flemington to get their headwear rained on. Have fun and be safe, kids; and stay away from them cameras.

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