I mentioned in previous blogs both my hairdresser, pedicurist, and Ali, the beach boy. You must go back six weeks when I was in Kusadasi the first time. They are now my dear friends.
Fetih, Seda, and a friend of theirs, Gulchin taught me all these nasty words to call Emino. Some are so nasty I can no longer have people write their names and such in the back of my journal. One person saw the words and was shocked. I tried to explain fun at the salon. But I know they have a different opinion of me now. One word is something I don't even say at home and it's not MFer.
Ali said the guy is a bastard and I am way to good to put up with that. Everyday he's had to listen to the torrid affair and has given me sympathy. I will miss these people. I'm going to Bozcaada tomorrow. Lisa, my friend with the cafe, says to get my ass there ASAP. She needs some fun. I will not be seeing scooter boy this time. NO WAY- No shephard hut for me. Emino is bad but I really needed my head examined for that one!
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