3 Hours Well-spent

Last week I decided I couldn't stand it one more day, just couldn't go on.  There was only one thing to do.  Only when I tried to find the one  person that could help, she had disappeared.  I was desperate.  I mean really desperate.  I considered trying to handle it on my own.  Then I found a business card with a phone number on it and gave it one last ditch effort.  Ha!  Found her. 

I got my hair cut and colored yesterday.  I look several years younger.  I feel better.  I have to say though, I'm not sure which was better, the cut or the conversation.  We were at her house, so it was just the two of us.  The first thing she said to me was, "So, how are the kids?"  She cried with me when I told her why I had let my appearance go.  The news was fresh to her so she didn't think I should be over it by now.  She told me that Ian would want me to look better.  She said it would be good for Keith to have me look better.  She told me I should tell all the people who say stupid things to me to Go to Hell.  I think one of these days I might. 

We were together over 3 hours.  We talked about religion mostly.  She's an Arab named Amal;  a devout Muslim who emigrated from Jerusalem by way of Kuwait in her early twenties.  She was as amazed as I was to find that the stories of Mohammad and Joseph Smith had so many similarities.  We have more beliefs in common than we knew.  Muslims don't drink alcohol.  They believe homosexuality is wrong--wrong wrong.  They think the family is the most important thing.  The list went on.  She was as appalled as I am that a new translation of the Bible is changing the word "virgin" to young woman.  I didn't know Muslims even acknowledged Mary, let alone believed in her. 

It was nice to really talk.  Maybe she could be my new friend.  Couldn't be any more diverse, could I?  It  gave me a good perspective.  Not that I haven't chatted with her before but...  wouldn't it be great to actually get to know a person from each group of stereotyped people?  I've always hated hearing about the "awful, heartless Chinese", or the "Utah Mormons", or the "cold New Englanders".  I wish I was better at not forming opinions about people based on how they look or talk or about 50 other things that don't matter.  I wish everyone was better at it.  

Having said that,  I'm glad I look better.  I just hope nobody does what I'm expecting:  "Wow, Michelle, I guess you are feeling better and  are finally ready for a fresh start."  I might have to  use Amal's phrase.