Bike stalking and a hair cut

Spring is here. This is the first time I've lived someplace where March is not a big tease of warm days followed by snowstorms. It's generally close to 50 degrees and my brain has the urge to go to track practice, watch some high school baseball, or take a long bike ride. Since the first two aren't possible right now, I took a bike ride on Tuesday.

 Brian and I are still working on figuring out new routes for long rides. The goal is to find  a couple where we're not stuck at a lot of stoplights getting out of town, and where we don't get run over on the road or stuck on a bumpy sidewalk. So yesterday when a fast cyclist passed me by, I decided to follow him. I tried to stay far enough behind that he didn't notice me or didn't get freaked out that I was behind him. I'm not sure whether I succeeded or not, but I spent about 25 minutes stalking him and trying to learn his route. If you are following someone on a bike, should you talk to him? (I say him because they are almost always guys). Is it more or less creepy if you are following a group rather than one cyclist? These are questions I will have to answer if I continue stalking bike riders around Hannover.

Then I went to get a haircut, and I was nervous. I'd gotten it cut before by a hairdresser who spoke English and was referred to me by my fellow cross-country coach. The good part was that she spoke English. The bad part was that it was expensive and I didn't like the cut. I have big hair. When it's cut blunt across the bottom the underneath part gets curly and it grows out in sort of a triangular shape. That's exactly what was going on. Trying new hair people is stressful, especially since I've been fiercely loyal to the ones who have done a good job in the past. But I'd held out as long as I could this time and now was determined to try somewhere cheaper near home.

The big variable was whether I could say how I wanted my hair in English or not. To be prepared, I found some pictures online and looked up the word for layers (schichten). I knew how to say things like: a little shorter, not all the same, short and long, front and back, etc. So I tried out the place down the street and of course the girl cutting my hair spoke only German. So I got to use my new vocabulary and my visual aids, and.... it turned out pretty well. I think I got lucky. And it was half the price of the other place. My hair is no longer a triangle. It is more like a shaggy oval with plenty of different lengths that can curl and flip as they wish.

So I guess it was a successful day, even if I didn't make a lot of progress on the paper I am trying to write.  Of course as the weather gets warmer, bike stalking will become a lot more appealing than paper writing. Cyclists of Hannover, if you see me behind you, just don't pay any attention. I won't know what to say to you anyway.