Banner adventurous weekend for this ol' gal.
Not sure what's gotten into me...
Maybe it's the whole "like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives" philosophy that haunts me.
Or maybe it was the welcomed drop in temperature, and the early-fall like morning air went straight to my head.
Whatever it was, something mysteriously caused me to toss my usual "always approach life with extra caution" mindset aside more than a couple of times:
Inherited a Droid and went toe-to-toe with modern cellular technology. Yup. Spent three hours at the Verizon store in Carroll familiarizing myself with the ins and outs of a touch screen. I'd like to personally thank Diane Kohorst for being so patient and answering all my questions and calming my nerves, helping me to remain brave and stay the course when I was ready to run back to my "old school" non-smart phone after a whopping five minutes.
Diane chuckled when I said I might have to spend the night there before I'd get the hang of it, but I was serious. Anyone who has had to teach me anything new, from a drill team routine in high school to how to process a waybill at work, knows I sometimes bristle and freak out if I don't catch on immediately. But I dug deep and was determined, faced my fear of failure, and Eureka! I've got apps! WooHoo!
Brave New World!
Hopped on the back of a friend's motorcycle and rode, sans helmet, six blocks to the hardware store. OK, so "hopped" is a bit of a stretch...more like "hobbled less than gracefully". But yeah, I rode on a motorcycle! For a whole six blocks! I know... I can't believe it either. I hate motorcycles. But when my good buddy Dell Petty pulled up to the corner as I was starting to hoof it down to Hardware Hank, asked me where I was headed and did I want a lift, I just blurted out, "Sure!" Yikes-a-roni! It was kinda fun!
Demanded a working massage chair at the nail salon during my mani-pedi. Well, actually, I asked politely if I could please have a different massage chair because the one they put me in would not start, and that was like the third visit there where I'd gotten a bum chair. The first two times I never said a thing. But dang, the massage chair is half the fun of the mani-pedi experience if you ask me (especially the last chair on the left...yummy!)
Now, I am not the kind of person who demands much of anything or makes a fuss if customer service is less than perfect. I don't send my food back at a restaurant if they give me beans instead of peas, or if the rice is a tish cold. If I get charged twice for a bar of soap at the grocery store, so be it. I utter not a peep. But by golly, I wanted a full-functioning masssage chair Saturday (especially after spending three grueling hours at Verizon) while my fake fingernails soaked off in a small plastic bowl of acetone and the callouses on my feet were scraped. So I spoke up! And I got my favorite yummy massage chair to boot! Yay!
Got my hair cut Sunday at the SmartStyle Family Hair Salon at the Carroll Wal-Mart . There I was, pushing my cart toward the exit, and I suddenly got the urge to get my hair cut. In the blink of an eye I decided what the heck, I'd trust a stylist I absolutely do not know nor was she recommended (which is usually a pre-requisite for me, seeing as I quake at the thought of a bad hair day). Her name, by the way, is Rhianna, and she is excellent! I love my new haircut!
I also love the fact that Rhianna asked me if I had young children starting school soon. My eyes popped open wide. Me? Young children? You really think I look like I could have children who are young? Wow! Bless your heart! Thank you!
Granted, I sounded way too Sally-Field-at-the-'84-Oscars-Best-Actress-acceptance-speech incredulous ("You like me! You really like me!"), but it really did make my day.
When I told Rhianna that actually I have a 19-year-old son who just left for his sophomore year at Iowa, she looked shocked. Might have been my horrible split ends. Anyway, she was so sweet, I bought a bottle of leave-in conditioner for an extra $10 and told her I'd be back.
Only got a little nauseous and teary when said college sophomore son left for Iowa City Friday night. And maybe that's the reason for my uncharacteristic chutzpah the rest of the weekend.
Hence, perhaps my soul is signaling in mysterious ways that it's time for me to bloom - once more -- before I'm planted...six feet under.
Life is not a dress rehearsal, folks. And at 55, time is of the essence. Must make the most of it.