Smacked, stripped, flipped, and voila! Beauty

I think in the past few weeks as I’ve prepared to get ready for my long awaited vacation, I’ve spent a small mint in prepping, preening, shopping, and all that goes with it. When going some place warm, and some place outside of your everyday normal world, you suddenly find yourself motivated to become “super fantastic”. I mean the best possible version of you with new clothes, new hair, new nails, new smooth skin – it’s like you’re saying to the world (outside of your own regular version) “Yes, I look this put together all the time.”

This is why I like vacations. I have to make a concerted effort to have all my beauty ducks in a row. On a normal basis I can keep one or two in a row from time to time – that is, inbetween soccer, baseball, flag football, swimming, volleyball, running, dating, work, school, etc., etc. I feel pretty good when I get those eyebrows taken care of at least every six weeks. I feel like I just completed a major accomplishment! But if I had to try and keep up a beauty regimen that consisted of tanning every few days, going to The Spa Club for fun waxings twice a month, getting my nails done (or retouched) every few weeks, having my hair perfectly coifed every six weeks, and other miscellaneous items as necessary, well, I’d go insane! But I do like the end result. I can’t complain that it isn’t worth it. Yet I think that the “glow” you get from being pampered is your body crying out in distress – “Stop scrubbing me!”

Today I went and got my nails done at a little salon near where I work. I’ve never been there as I don’t get my nails “done” that often. But a smart pedicure and manicure is a must for any cruiser. Like most salons, it was owned by a Vietnamese couple. After spending a little over an hour there today for my fabulous spa pedicure and my painful (she cut me – ouch!) french manicure, I’ve decided I need to learn Vietnamese. I COULD NOT UNDERSTAND what the sweet woman who was ripping and cutting and buffing and scraping the living daylights out of my sensitive nailbeds was saying.

“Okay, so dis a here is vif spa pad-i-car wif something-something for the $20 dolla and vid a something-something is on only $5 dolla more. You like to do?”

“Sure…I like to do. What exactly is $5 more?”

“Dis-a white tip I show you, you see? If-a something-something on a time is only $3 dolla more. And you pick.”

“I’m sorry, I pick what??”

“Okay, you do?”

“Do what?”

“The $3 dolla more?”

“So, what am I getting exactly for $28 dollars?”

“Da spa pad-i-car ees white tip and something-something on big nail.”

I finally figured out that she was selling me a stamp on my big toes. Okay, I got it. But my supposedly relaxing spa pedicure was hindered by the fact that I was sweating just trying to follow what she was saying. And then she kept mumbling under her breath in Vietnamese. Um, am I supposed to respond to that? Is she insulting me? “Look at her nailbeds, tsk, tsk. What is she thinking? She probably doesn’t wax either.” Oh yeah? Let me show you.

No, no! She was really very nice and I just kept thinking the same thoughts which volleyed back and forth between “What was that she just said?” to “Is that what I just agreed for her to do?” to “I hope she’s not smack-talking me in Vietnamese.”

But my nails sure look nice.

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