I've listened to many a people talking excitedly about their blissfully fantastic first time, but I chose to abstain from such things and hold out because I didn't want an impugned reputation as a 'painted lady.' Well, on Friday I finally did the deed.....
.......and got a pedicure!
My mom treated us both to a nice hour at the spa because she didn't want me going to Colorado with ugly feet. Yeah, what people think of my feet are the least of my worries when I'm about to meet a veritable buttload of dazzlingly gorgeous and witty bloggy women this weekend.
So, our spa venture just wouldn't seem complete without a nice waxing. I've never waxed anything, unless you count waxing nostalgic or waxing poetic. Or the time I kissed the Turtle Wax boy from the car wash in my wild youth..... Anyway, the very petite Vietnamese lady had me plop my hulking frame down in one of the salon chairs that backs up to a sink so I could lay down and get slathered up in hot wax on my upper lip. The warmth of the honey-like amber wax made me feel all comfortable and cozy until......she let it RIIIIIIIP! Without warning, the lady yanked the gauze off the left side of my mustache. Reacting to the immense pain, I slid down the vinyl chair, all the way to the floor. Did I get any compassion or caring? No. The lady called out in her sing-songey language to all her salon co-horts so they could enjoy the show too. And then she smiled big, and patted the seat as she instructed, "You get back in chair now. Me have one more side to do....."
And now you know why Bertha The Bearded Lady down at the circus was that way- Obviously she had a deep-seated phobia of hair removal products. I'm so never getting waxed again. Do you think Melissa The Mustachioed sounds nice? What about Melissa And Her Malevolent Man Whiskers Of Mayhem?