Head wounds, and other traumas of modern life

I have been meaning to sit down & post since before the weekend. Obviously, it didn't happen. Oh well!

Friday afternoon, I had a hair appointment after work. And enough time before-hand to treat myself to a yummy lunch. I decided to go to Lombardo's, for a Margherita pizza and a beer. I rarely drink beer, and almost never when I'm out alone (a matter of preference, more than anything) - so I felt awfully grown up and cool when I ordered it. My pizza came, I took a lovely photo of it with my phone...and the website that handles the pics has eaten it. So you don't get to see it. Sorry.

(Though it's probably just as well, coz I'd also taken a picture of my glass, after I poured the beer into it...very foamy. And if I had that picture, I was going to title this post "There is such a thing as too much head" - and my mother reads this, and that would be bad. So it's a good thing my photos were eaten, sparing my mother and other assorted family members. Hi Mom!)

Anyway, lunch was delish. My hairdresser is a bit kooky, but I like her. She found me a photo that was exactly what I wanted, and she set to work. Usually, this method works delightfully.

(I'll point out the ironic foreshadowing there, in case you missed it.)

As she was cutting, she kept saying, "I wonder what your hair would look like, really short. I bet it would look really great." And I kept saying, "Ask me that question in July, when it's really hot, and I bet you can talk me into finding out." And she kept saying, "Yeah, good idea!" As she kept cutting, and cutting....

And now I know. I look just like I did when I was 15, except without the shoulder pads (thank FSM, since they really made me look like a football player!) Mr.Q finds it entertaining. I'm still deciding whether I'm traumatized.

Saturday, my sister came over to colour my hair. You know, a little something fun for spring. She insisted on taking photos for the blog - it was her idea, actually, and I think it really indicates how much she wants to start a blog of her own, but she just has to be different from our youngest sister and I. Some people!

Anyway, when she was done putting the goop in my hair, she took a picture:



It looked like I'd been scalped.

Fortunately, it turned out much better after everything was finished. Except that, when she was rinsing out my hair in the kitchen sink, she didn't hear me when I told her the tap was backward, and she froze my head. Accidentally, it's true, but she enjoyed it far too much.

Saturday nite, I went out to hear one of my former students speak at an event, Global Village Storytellers - a night of storytelling by people from different countries, with the goal of community-building and telling stories of peace.

I was a little nervous about going, coz it was obvious it was one of those things where everybody there was part of the same group, and would know each other. And I'd be sitting alone in the corner with my knitting, feeling awkward. But. The event sounded interesting on its own, and this particular student has been one of my favourites. A retired history teacher from Japan, who has spent most of her adult life finding ways to teach children (and adults) about peace. A funny, sassy woman who must have been an amazing teacher. I wanted to be there for moral support - and just to hear her stories.

I got there a little early. So, I sat in the corner and pulled out my knitting...and had several very friendly people ask about it within just a few minutes. Which made me much more comfortable.

When Misa arrived, she was glad to see me (she had some pronunciation questions before her performance!) And I wasn't alone, in the end. A couple other former students showed up, and we had dinner together in our corner. Misa's stories were great. There was also a man from Germany, one from Nicaragua (a former Sandinista who survived torture by the death squads - mind-blowing!) and a fabulous, overwhelming Nigerian woman who had us all eating out of the palm of her hand.

The funny thing was, the topic of my morning class had been "storytelling" - so it was quite the appropriate finish to the week.

And now it's already Tuesday again. Which is crazy, but it means the long weekend - and our weekend away! - will be here lickety-split. I guess I should start thinking about which knitting project(s) to bring along. And just how much wine I'll need. (And whether that will differ significantly from how much wine I'll want.)

'Nuff of my rambling. If you think of it, please send Barb happy Edward-cat thoughts - one of her orange tabbies has gone AWOL after their Big Move. Knowing what that's like, I keep jumping over to her blog every couple of hours, hoping for an update. Nothing yet, but all the fingers and paws Chez Quimby are crossed!