I'm so Euro

Since I'm starting to resemble a Q-Tip (if not properly managed, I have the potential for a serious Greg Brady 'do), I decided today that I had to make an appointment for a haircut ASAP. Although Guy (our French hairdresser) speaks English, when I called I got someone who, when I asked "parlez-vous anglais?", promptly said "Non!" Rather than panicking, I dug deep into the recesses of my brain and found enough high school French to book a time tomorrow. At least I think that's what I did. It's entirely possible that I instead either (a) booked a haircut for sometime in 2008; (b) ordered a year's supply of Camembert cheese; or (c) have a date with a French male hairdresser this Friday night. But the important thing is that whatever I actually did, I managed to do it in French. Pardon me while I burst with pride.

ADDENDUM: I once asked my French colleague what you call an appointment with a hairdresser, and he told me it was a rendez-vous. It's entirely possible that he was messing with me, but I have to say it's a little strange to call and say you would like a rendez-vous with your hairdresser. Not that there's anything wrong with that...