Generation Gap?

103I had a marathon hair session the other day.

Colour, cut, high lights, straightening–I got the full meal deal and then some.

This intense level of beautification isn’t for the faint of heart. My appointment started at 10:30 and I didn’t get out of the salon until about 1:40! Afterwards I was exhausted–fit for nothing more than lounging with a cup of tea and a novel. I don’t know how the stylists do it.

I’m not one for small talk so after our initial hello-s, my stylist got down to the nitty gritty while I immersed myself in gossip magazines.

Soon after my arrival, a high school girl took up residence in the chair next to mine. She was one of those bubbly, chatty people I admire.

She talked about her yearbook photo (“awful!”), her graduation dress (“strapless cream satin–like a wedding dress, but cuter!”) and her part time job at a t-shirt shop (“I love it when we get people with funny accents!”)

Her cell phone rang: “Yah…No, probably just hanging out at home tonight…Oooh–I’m so hung over today…You, too? Oh my God! Ha ha! We’re both hung over!…Okay, bye, Mom.”

Bye, Mom! What???

Sometimes I feel like the mom that time forgot.

At first I think it’s the generation gap rearing its grizzled head. Back in my day, high school kids (at least the ones I knew) didn’t complain to their parents about the severity of their hang overs. And if a parent suspected their teenager of illegal, underage drinking, they certainly didn’t commiserate about their own hang overs.

Then I realize the mom on the phone is probably about my age so I can’t even blame a generation gap.

I’m just uncool.

And I’m okay with that.

How to Move Far Away with a Sailor

006A successful blogger recently explained that she attracts readers by offering advice. Posts titled “How to” anything are especially popular.

Since I love to tell people what to do (hello–I’m a mom and a teacher!), this seems like a perfect fit for me.

I present the first of my friendly suggestion posts: How to Move Far Away with a Sailor.

Anyone connected with the military has had to deal with involuntary moves far far away. While this can be an opportunity to see different places and meet new people, it can also be daunting, particularly if you’re the timid type.

I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into when I moved to Halifax with my sailor. It was a bit of a struggle, but I got through it and I think I’m more independent and (dare I say it?) daring because of the experience.

This is what I learned.

1. Force yourself to get out and meet people. A job can be a great way to do this, but sometimes good jobs aren’t easy to come by. When I arrived in Halifax, no one was hiring teachers. Wandering around the mall alone everyday soon got old, especially when my sailor went off to sea for months at a time. I volunteered for the Canadian Cancer Society, worked at a pancake house and even (briefly) joined the Officers’ Wives Club bowling team. I’m way too uncoordinated to bowl regularly, but I stayed long enough to make a couple of friends and get myself invited to other social events that were more my style.

2. Find a new hobby. Mine was cooking, which is actually a solitary pursuit, but it gave me something to do when I was bored and kept me out of Tim Hortons. (I became addicted to their cinnamon sugar doughnuts.) To complement my developing prowess in the kitchen, my sailor and I became a wine making team–he made it and I drank it. I still enjoy cooking, but the wine making fell by the wayside when I got pregnant and couldn’t drink.

3. Perhaps the most important suggestion for anyone feeling lost and alone in a strange community: do NOT make any major changes the first time you visit a new hair stylist! I was bored, lonely and for some reason thought a zippy new do would be the answer to all my problems. Since I didn’t have a stylist in town, I made an appointment at the salon in the mall, printed a photo of a young Meg Ryan with her shaggy blonde mane and honestly thought my life would change for the better once I looked like America’s sweetheart. Years later I still have trouble breathing when I remember the result. It was more Meg Griffin than Meg Ryan.

Although these tips are based on my experience of moving far, far away with a sailor, they will apply whether you’re leaving your life behind for a grand romantic gamble with a professional bowler, a chicken rancher or anyone really.