"In this age, which believes that there is a short cut to everything, the greatest lesson to be learned is that the most difficult way is, in the long run, the easiest.  ~Henry Miller, The Books in My Life"
 We moved in to our new home and community almost eleven months ago. This move was entirely different than our last eight moves because we bought a home away from our military base and are assimilating into a society that is mostly civilian. The people who live in our neighborhood have lived here for more than a decade. The families all know each other and know the area very well. Many of my peers have grown up here and haven't experienced the awkwardness of learning a new area.
 In the beginning, I asked for help for everything. Before I left the house I would ask my friends where we were going and if there was any special map I needed or instructions to find a certain landmark. I've gotten stubborn these last few months and have tried to go it on my own. Instead of asking for help, I use the internet to map things out and gather the information I need to appear to be confident in my new community. This plan of attack was working well for me until today.
 I've volunteered to be a part of the children's school Parent's Association. I was to meet with the President of the Association today for lunch to go over my predecessors paperwork and get a handle on my new position. She emailed the name of the place we would meet for lunch and the time and I responded that I would be there to meet her at the right time and place, "With Bells On". ( that was my enthusiasm shining through) I Googled the name of the establishment and found it with ease. I copied and pasted the address into Mapquest online and mapped my route from home to the restaurant. With only four miles to go, I left with plenty of time to find parking and not rush. Our downtown is a maze of one way roads. If you don't know your way around, you can wind up driving around your elbow to get to your thumb. I confidently took an early right turn and another left turn so I would be driving the correct direction in front of the restaurant. When I reached my destination, I found myself parked in front of a rather large office building. There was obviously a big mistake. I drove around a little more and couldn't find the place, then finally pulled into a parking place and called a friend.
 One of my friends is one of the ladies who has lived here most of her life. I call her my "phone a friend" and I have needed her help more than a handful of occasions when I've been lost in our fair city. She has an incredible ability to talk me straight home or to my destination by asking a few questions about where I'm at. She is priceless. When I gave her the name of the restaurant, she informed me that the place I was looking for was right near my house, two and a half miles back toward the way I came, in broad view of the route I took. I was in the completely wrong area of town.
That is when it dawned on me. In a rush to be independent, I copied the wrong address from the internet and mapped it out. The address came from a review of the restaurant that was published in the local paper and I had mistakenly taken the address of the paper instead of the restaurant. The large office building was the headquarters of our newspaper.
 I was thirty minutes late to my lunch and had to fess up to the President that I had made a crazy mistake. Had I asked her initially to tell me where we were going and how to get there, I would have saved time, energy and stress. It would have been hard to swallow my pride and ask for help, but it would have been the right thing to do. At least for now, the new kid in town knows to ask for help, it's that easy.