Save the Wales

I knew one of my dearest friends was really happy yesterday. How did I know this?

She called me, and when I picked up the phone, all she did was scream, "YOU BITCH!" That's when I knew she was really, really happy.

You see, this friend has been working her butt off to learn Welsh over the past year. That's right, Welsh. Just because she wants to. She found a real, live Welsh tutor who is also in the clothing business. This has resulted in some design projects for my friend, and now there is the possibility of expanding the business back to Wales.

Not to mention the fact that there is a contest every year in Wales for the best speaker who learned the language from a standing start (it doesn't count if your great aunt spoke only Welsh, and you visited her a lot as a child).

The tutor has lined up places for my friend to stay in Wales, if she wants to compete in the contest, and if she wants to scope out the business prospects there-- which could result in her getting hired in a business development position.

One problem: she is responsible for getting herself to Wales. And she can't afford it.

Or can't she? A bunch of us got together and chipped in to get her the ticket. This week, she was up visiting me, and all week I knew she could go to Wales, but wasn't allowed to say! I even had to sympathize when she said with resignation that she just didn't think she could get there right now.

Heh.

She just found out. And she called me a bitch. Oh yeah-- she's happy. And so am I.

Have a great trip, hon!