I’m thinking about growing my hair out again. It was shaggy and almost down to my neck last December, but I had it trimmed to make it more manageable and then buzzed down to half an inch in January to make a fresh start. It’s been about the same length ever since. Because I’m a conflicted man with thin (no, not thinning; it’s always been relatively thin) hair, I often switch back from shaggy hair to buzzcuts. I know I look better with long hair, but it’s just so high maintenance, and it gets messed up easily. Blah. I can never decide what to stick with.

Actually, if I could, I would grow an Afro. Not a huge one; just long enough to stick a pick in it.

While I’m still on the topic of fashion in this city, I’ve tinkered with the idea of piercing my ears and getting diamond studs. I’d look so slick and dangerous, especially if I kept my hair buzzed. And I’m totally not dangerous; I almost cried twice when I watched The Namesake three weekends ago.

This is what living in Buenos Aires does to you. Too many corrupting, pierced youngsters and their shaggy hair and mullets.

Do my thoughts make me ethnocentric, or even worse, racist? I think not. Well, maybe a little of the former.