Trip to Hair Appointment and Ireland

NO!! I will not regale you with details of my hair appointment or style or growth of said hair. I found that was a most hostile area to venture into on several earlier posts. (Evidently, no one sympathizes with hair grow out. I get it!)

What I do have to report is that I drove the 26 miles to my hair lady's new residence. If you have read me at all, you know I'm a challenged driver. If the car is not breaking down, my door isn't blowing into a mean man's truck, I'm not getting a ticket, or getting lost, then I tend to just generally take my life and the lives of fellow drivers into dark, dangerous places.

I worried about it for days. (I know it did no good. Don't even go there.) I mapquested it; I gps'd it. I left 1 hour 15 minutes early for the assigned time. Therefore, I arrived 25 minutes early and the lady wasn't there. I'd never been to her new house before, so I was afraid I was at the wrong place. The blinds were all down, the front porch light on, and the screen flapping in the breeze. No cars or other signs of life were visible in the car port. I had forgotten to transfer her phone number to her new entry in my date book. So I called one of her friends--no answer. Called my daughter in Las Vegas (her former roommate)--no answer. Called my husband--he had no clue what to tell me, but was happy to learn I was incident free even if I wasn't at the right place. Finally, I tried her friend again and got her number. Called my daughter and she facebooked her to tell her I was waiting. The friend texted my hair lady just as I was calling her. Ten minutes later she arrived. You probably don't see the humor in all of this, but I just thought it was hilarious.

Plus, she has no bathroom in her new shop area and I was too shy to asked to use the bathroom in her house, so I nearly wet my pants before I got to a toilet after the appointment. Thankfully, I had on comfortable shoes I could  run in. (Point of note: Circle Ks in bad parts of towns have no public bathroom. I need to remember that.)

Now, the Ireland part of my title. I look on my sitemeter periodically and see that I have a reader from Dublin, Ireland. This intriguing lurker never leaves a comment. Sometimes I get a reader from Brazil or other far away places. They never leave comments either. I even Googled the language of Ireland and found that for the most part it's English. Yep, I speak it. I had a student from Ireland once and loved him. Little Kenny Lanigan. I'm still friends with him. I know you'd like me, Irish reader. I'm really quite jovial and entertaining. Feel free to leave a comment if you are so inclined. I'd love to have a friend of the Emerald Isle. Comment. Come on. I'd love to hear from you and any other skulkers out there. Hello to lurkers. You know who you are...