First off, tonight one of the contestants on American Idol was wearing the new top I just bought. I know exactly where she got it (Joanna - it's that groovy, hippie, crocheted, afghan-like,crazy long vesty-thing I bought that day we went to the movies). Does this mean I'm fashionably relevant now? Hot dog!
I got a much-needed pedicure today, thanks to a gift certificate I received from one of our board members. Pedicures usually fall somewhere between bliss and torture for me. You see, I'm ticklish. Very. Some days it doesn't bother me as much as others. It also depends on the person's technique and touch. My least favorite part is when they take a file with rough pumice on it and start scraping away. It's the equivalent to chalk on a chalkboard for me. I can't stand the way it feels AT ALL. So I flinched. A lot. The lady gave me a dirty look. "I'm really ticklish" I said apologetically, with a sheepish grin. She would not be charmed. I could see her resolve as she decided she would be the one to conquer my ticklishness. Nope. I gripped the sides of the chair in agony until she finally gave up. She even seemed peeved when she cut one of my nails down too far and I pulled away slightly to show her I was in pain. She may even have rolled her eyes. Hysterical. At least she didn't talk about me in Vietnamese to the lady next to her and laugh and laugh. That's what usually happens whenever I acquiesce and hit a nail salon. They start on my feet, then almost always say something to me that I can't quite understand, which I translate as "Do you want callous removal?" due to the fact that they lift my foot and look at the ball with disdain. Callous removal is code for "We charge you extra $10 to rub in a cream that does nothing for callouses on your feet. How about it?" I wish I had the wherewithal to do this kind of maintenance on my own, but I'm not patient enough for home beauty routines. Once a tomboy, always a tomboy...
I got a much-needed pedicure today, thanks to a gift certificate I received from one of our board members. Pedicures usually fall somewhere between bliss and torture for me. You see, I'm ticklish. Very. Some days it doesn't bother me as much as others. It also depends on the person's technique and touch. My least favorite part is when they take a file with rough pumice on it and start scraping away. It's the equivalent to chalk on a chalkboard for me. I can't stand the way it feels AT ALL. So I flinched. A lot. The lady gave me a dirty look. "I'm really ticklish" I said apologetically, with a sheepish grin. She would not be charmed. I could see her resolve as she decided she would be the one to conquer my ticklishness. Nope. I gripped the sides of the chair in agony until she finally gave up. She even seemed peeved when she cut one of my nails down too far and I pulled away slightly to show her I was in pain. She may even have rolled her eyes. Hysterical. At least she didn't talk about me in Vietnamese to the lady next to her and laugh and laugh. That's what usually happens whenever I acquiesce and hit a nail salon. They start on my feet, then almost always say something to me that I can't quite understand, which I translate as "Do you want callous removal?" due to the fact that they lift my foot and look at the ball with disdain. Callous removal is code for "We charge you extra $10 to rub in a cream that does nothing for callouses on your feet. How about it?" I wish I had the wherewithal to do this kind of maintenance on my own, but I'm not patient enough for home beauty routines. Once a tomboy, always a tomboy...
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