The Goldsmith’s Challenge:

Some years ago, in August 1994 to be precise, I made a vow to myself while on an AFS exchange student program in Latvia. The vow was supposed to be a self imposed impetus to make me learn the language. It went something like this: “I will not cut my hair short until I have become as proficient in my third language as my English is now!”

Needless to say my hair grew extensively through the years and everybody in my family made some kind of a comment. My mother aside, Sólbjörg my dashy sister has been the most vocal of the lot, ... never missing an opportunity to ask me how is your third language coming along? The commentary ranges from suggesting to have a more conservative look all the way to my uncle from the Westfjords threatening to cut my hair with sheep scissors! Only one has recently commented about liking “man with long hair!” but then she was hitting on me pretty directly. Fellow students and faculty have also suggested me to get hip! Most of my friends have not been void of opinion either. Jen, who is a pro-hairdresser, even plotted to get me drunk enough so I would pass out in a chair to her convenience, and then take liberty of my rocksy-topsy. My nutty metabolism ensured that it never came to that! :evilbaron-smirking

Then finally during a break in Gold- & Silversmith Art History lesson, the most vocal goldsmith student, Arna, made me an offer that was tempting enough for my eyeballs to crane themseves into the skull. The offer was that if I would cut my hair short (defined as above shoulder level) before my 30th birthday, then I would get one bottle of red wine of my own choosing! When she saw from my focus point that I actually was contemplating the offer she added ... and another one if you shave your beard off too! Grinning while finishing the last sentence!

Now what can a guy say to that?

So few hours before my 30 years annaversery off popping out into this world I went to Gísli, (the only guy who may lay hands on my hair), and stated that you got your wish fulfilled, cut me short!
“You mean short or short-short?” was the reply. Few cuts later trotting off as prince Valiant to buy the last tidbits I needed for my going away to Australia dinner party. Then home bound to take a shower, shave my beard off, and prepare to recieve the guests.

Typically I had forgotten to buy a good razor and only found in my inventory a biteless cheese cutter that I used with extra force to get the protein spaghetti of my face, gaaaawdd!
Supremus Biggus, I’ve been contemplating. Why can’t I just get a local astrogen shot on the beardy part and be rid of grooming for good?

My schoolmate Claudia, who makes a pasta sauce to die for, helped me out with the dinner preparations and was the first to see the change and with her priceless Sachsen accent “You’ve cut your hair, ... and your beard is off too!” When my siss showed up she congratulated me with my proficiency in my third language! I just crossed my fingers.

The dinner party turned out alright, the only real setback was to cheek-kiss everybody with my invisible stingy beard buts cutling.

First day of Collage after Easter brake.
Decided to improve the texture of my cheeks. This time I was prepared for I had bought a single-use razor. Being used to the cheese cutter I typically forgot time and tools and hacked away the beard buts scraping away some skin with reminiscent effect of horror films. Had to wait half an hour before I got the bleeding under control. At least I got rid of some pestering facial bumps while at it!

Took the bus to Collage and walked up the stairs towards the huge computer-torium. Was’nt even close to the top stair when I heard a familiar voice coming from somewhere in the distant part of the hall “Ohmygod-oh my god - ohmygod ... etc, etc, etc!”. The only time I’ve ever seen Suzanne Multy-Media student with a drop jaw.

So I walked straight to the Goldsmith Art History class, our first lecture after Easter break. Showed up fashionably late, because of a bloody reason. Now it was Arna’s turn to keep her end of the bargain.

What I never expected was to get that kind of positivly firm reaction from everybody!

It’s so strange about red wine. I allready have enough of unopened red wine bottles. The oldest of the lot is a bottle I bought to celebrate my 20th birthday. (For those not in the know, I never officially celebrated my 20th birthday). The plan was to celebrate my 20th birthday when I would feel old, like the time I would turn thirty. Didn’t feel old when I turned thirty so I decided to celebrate my 20th birthday when I turn forty. For my 30th birthday I also have bought a bottle of red wine, that I guesstimate will be opened when I turn fifty. ... hey I’m ranting! ... upps, ... my cellular is vibrating. ... just got some SMS-es in a row. Claudia has a birthday gift for me, ... and a proxy message from the goldsmiths that they have something for me up in their workshop facility down at TechCollage! Yeahaaa!