Finding a new hairdresser is, for me at least, a daunting task. Since my hairdresser for the past ten years was forced to resign a year or so ago due to her husband's poor health, I have been flailing about trying to find a suitable replacement. Men, I don't believe, deal with a similar dilemma. Snip, snip, buzz, buzz, all done. Women's hair is sort of their crowning glory. Most of us of the feminine persuasian have suffered through bad haircuts, poor dye jobs, and that ever embarrassing perm that goes south making us look like we're set up for conducting 220. It sounds trivial in a world full of non trivial occurrences holding far more import at the moment, but with everything else going on, how your hair behaves really does effect how you feel about yourself when facing the world for the day.
Finally, about five months ago I happened on a lady who actually seemed to listen to what I had to say with regard to my hair, and is now able to make my vision a reality for the most part. Yay. A small victory in the scheme of things, but I'll take it. Some days even the tiniest ray of light trumps totally overcast skies. Speaking of Trump......or were we? Well, if we were not, it would seem we should be as everyone else in the country most likely is. This truly is an amazing time in history. It is something to be able to say that the current Republican candidate for the esteemed office of President of the United States is now a convicted felon. This fact does not preclude him, amazingly, from continuing to run for the highest office in the country. Interesting. It seems the founding fathers didn't see fit to include committing a felony as a poor character reference when shaping up the requirements for the position when drafting the Constitution. I don't know how the government gets much more interesting than this. Unless, of course, Trump gets sentenced to jail time while concurrently getting reelected, and ends up running the country from his cell in Sing Sing. Can you say bizarre boys and girls? I knew you could. Good Lord. Well, it certainly makes for good press. Truly, it would the perfect fodder for a fascinating mini-series. Unfortunately, it is our reality at this moment, and not just the fruit of someone's wildly active imagination. Where this goes from here, I hesitate to hazard even the most random of guesses. Somehow, even for my most optimistic of spirits, I feel this doesn't bode well for the rest of 2024. Sigh.
The collective energy this past week has felt like it was all over the place. One after another, friends and acquaintances have complained to me their life feels off balance, or they are experiencing all manner of disruptions to their daily routines. Sign me up for both those lists. My whole week has been like that. If I went north, everyone else seemed to be going south. One day, I tagged along with Richard on an errand. The man has an obsession with vehicles of all makes and models. A car for sale will occasionally tickle his fancy, and he simply has to go see if he needs to have it. Don't ask me. It's a guy thing. I didn't ask how far this car was from home, assuming it would be reasonably close by. Nope, north and south, south and north. On the drive there he kindly explained to me the workings of a combustion engine. I took drivers ed when I was a sophomore, so though it all sounded somewhat familiar, I still didn't retain much then, and have to admit was compiling my grocery while listening on this go round. I hope there isn't a quiz later. An hour plus on the road, we pulled into the lot that had advertised the car. Whew. I asked him, casually of course, if he had called to inquire as to whether or not it had been sold. His response was, the car was still posted on the site as of earlier that morning, so that meant it was still there. It's just me, I guess, but I would have called. Maybe that is a girl thing? Anyhow, we went inside the building and asked the young woman manning the front desk where we might locate the vehicle in question. After consulting with her manager, she informed us the car had been sold the day before. Hmmmm. Now, I could have said, "I told you so". I did not. Number one, that is sooooo annoying, and generally not helpful to your mood when you are already annoyed, and number two, he knew I was thinking it so it seemed totally unnecessary to verbalize it. lol
On the way back home, we decided to run into Costco to pick up a few things. At Costco, you never really just buy one thing, because everything is sold in bulk. If you want lunch meat, you buy a three packages of meat seamed together. When it was only me sitting down to dinner, I got out of the habit of going there. As much as I love cheese, even my strong desire for it won't allow me to consume five pounds of ripe cheddar before the mold takes over. Now, however, he and I go there every few weeks. I find Richard to be a creature of habit. At our age, perhaps we all are. At any rate, he likes to go to Costco, and then Walmart on these outings. They are in the same parking lot, so it makes sense at any rate. The particular Walmart he frequents is seriously the slowest store to check out of I have ever shopped in. They usually have two checkers open while people pile up four to five in line with full baskets in each open aisle. The checkers all appear to have the same habit of chit chatting while working, then stopping to examine each item before scanning it as if it was a totally unfamiliar object they have never laid eyes on before. Then, as if all of us have infinite time on our hands to remain in the store, they slowly they painstakingly open a bag and drop the items in one at a time. For an A personality like me this can be as serious as to be considered a life lesson in patience. My mother also was blessed with no patience. She used to love to say she was like the flower, impatien. Yup, we get the good and we get the bad from our folks, and are a composite of what sticks. For me, that one definitely stuck.
Thankfully, the day we went to look at the car it was only Costco we were going to. As they are wont to do, the item Richard was looking for was no longer in the spot where it previously could be found. I find with Costco if you see something you like, particular in clothing, you'd better stick it in your cart while the opportunity is open to you. If you don't, the next time you are looking for that sweatshirt they will either only have it in mustard or chartreuse in an XXXL or an xs, or it will have disappeared completely never to be seen again. Like intrepid hunters on the scent of their prey, aisle by aisle we roamed through the store, and then when we had covered every aisle, we turned around and went through the store again. I suggested we ask a store employee where it might be. Ask!!!! The rule no man breaks, ever. "Yes, ask." It's when you don't know something that someone else might. "Wouldn't it perhaps be easier than walking the entire store, which is a large piece of acreage to cover, and then just getting frustrated", I ask sweetly? "No?" Finally, after we'd logged the third mile, I located a lady with a Costco vest and asked where the item was to be found. Turns out, the motor oil was now residing in the same aisle as the peanuts. Who knew. Easy peasey. Men really are from Mars. I have to question the logic of the store manager as well, but that's a whole other ball of wax.
It has been a difficult week all around. I have several dear, dear friends currently going through serious health issues. It is difficult when people you love are ill and there isn't one single thing you can do, except to be responsive to their needs. This is not my first experience dealing with this, and I'm sure it won't be my last. I can't help but wish in my heart of hearts we weren't so fragile as beings and so very vulnerable to pain and disease. I've always said I think we should simply be marked with an expiration date, like eggs. It could be a small tattoo on the soles of our feet. We would be on earth for our allotted time and then become obsolete like an old cellphone and simply go dark and no longer work, our energy absorbed into the collective "being". No pain, except for those left behind grieving our passing.
As I sit her pondering my writing, I find myself wishing I was instead sitting under a colorful umbrella on a warm sandy beach, with a slight breeze to keep the heat at bay, sipping something delightfully cold and refreshing. Whey my soul becomes parched, it yearns for the sea. Always it has been that way, perhaps because I was born with it surrounding me on three sides. I keep thinking I will book something soon with an ocean view, but life keeps intruding itself and it is yet to be. For sure before the summer is up, we will get something moving in that direction by way of at least a weekend getaway.
Have a wonderful weekend yourselves. The first real heat of the summer arrives next week here in Northern California, with the predicted temps on Wednesday around 103. I have a lovely new A/C unit humming away in the side yard, so as long as PG&E does their part, it will be cool inside.
Until next time.....
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