Today I see my hair dresser. Is that what you even call them these days? We have an unusual relationship. Over ten years ago, her family moved to Atlanta. In order to keep from working full time in her new location, she decided to return once a month to this area, cram all her regular patients into one long weekend and be done with it. I think she is happy with the arrangement. It got her a break from the family, time with old friends and then, as I said, she was able to stay home the rest of the month raising her three boys.

I did not get the same good deal. I either have to get my hair cut/colored every four weeks or eight weeks. And as every woman knows, six weeks is really the best timing, unless your hair grows very fast... which mine does not. So for many years now I have been getting my hair done when it doesn't actually need it. Several times I tried stretching it out for eight weeks but was not happy with the results. Last summer I needed my hair just perfect for my son's wedding and the timing was off. I fretted unnecessarily because I looked fine but any other person would have counted backwards from the wedding date and adjusted their appointments so they were coiffed a week before the wedding.

We almost broke up over that experience. My friends have been telling me to break up with her for years. Get someone local. Get someone cheaper. Get in control.

I just can't. I love her. She cuts and colors as well as anyone I know. She knows most of my secrets. She loves me back.

Today, when I see her, I am thinking of doing something different. Something that will in all likelihood make me even more dependent on her. It's ok. I have pretty much come to grips with the arrangement. I almost don't whine about it anymore.

Unless you count this as whining?

Snip snip,

Caroline

There is a Blog I check every day, almost without fail. The author, while someone I do not know all that well in real life, lives quite familiar with me in Webville. I know when she is happy or pissy* (one of her favorite adjectives) or when she doesn't feel much like writing. Some of my favorite blogs are her lists of random things or thoughts. Something like ... Things Currently on My Kitchen Counter Top: vase of red roses, cold mug of morning tea, clipped bag of tortilla chips from Costco, rent check from the tenants of my mother's condo, calendar, bowl of moldy grapes, container of crunchy sugar cookies, made by yours truly, etc. Only when she makes a list, she numbers the items and you find yourself following eagerly down the column to see what is next. Its quite the catch.

She leads a very interesting life. I marvel at the plates she spins. Not the drive the kids to fourteen athletic practices, host dinner parties for hubby's clients, work-out at the gym 5X a week, kind of life but a life with a different meter. She rides a bike, keeps bees, writes poetry, appears to be a decent cook (cannot verify last descriptive phrase ... hint, hint). She fascinates me in that she lives life in a very different way than I choose to live mine. I stop myself from saying better. Its just different.

Someday I hope to spend a little more actual time in the same physical space with her. We frequent the same coffee shop but are rarely there at the same time. My life of late has been centered around triage. I am just about ready to write about it so stay tuned, get a mug of hot tea and maybe, depending on how close your tears run to the surface, a box of tissues.

Peace Out,
Caroline