but so not.
Given my propensity for living in a fantasy world and the build up in my mind to a pedicure scheduled for Saturday, you would have thought I was to be in an episode of SATC: A Day At The Spa--season 6 episode 30. A warm Saturday in spring. Nails so in need of color. Heals in need of exfoliation. Time just for me. My life will change. All will be perfect and whole.
But even my active imagination couldn't overcome the reality that in this episode I was wearing a kinda clean sweat suit and 10 year old Tevas while driving a beige Honda minivan to a strip mall in "anywhere" America. So, it was just like an episode, but without the cute shoes, beautiful designer clothes, wild atmosphere or sassy friends. (ok, I have sassy friends, they just weren't with me.) That's leaves me staring in, what? Something About Ramond.
But oddly uncomfortable talk about topics one shouldn't discuss in public...oh, yeah that was there.
Of course my excitement wasn't just about the pedicure. It had more to do with relaxing for over an hour without kids or husband. I left the house with enough time to get an iced tea and arrive at the spa early so that I could smell the Aveda essential oils..allowing them to take me back to Grand Ave. in St. Paul and those carefree days. (when I was so stressed I needed a spa treatment once a month.)
All was going well. My nail lady (what do you call them?) looked ok. The other women seemed nice. Sure no one offered me lemon infused water or a magazine but I settled in. Ok, she didn't let me soak very long and the water was luke warm. The lady next to me began to take cell phone calls and no one said anything. The nail ladies began to gossip (to put it kindly) about co-workers and clients. I began to tune out. When I tuned back in the group was talking about who among the staff did Brazilian waxes. (If you don't know what it is...I'm not going to outright say so you have to live in the dark or ask a girlfriend.) For the next half an hour I was regaled with stories about the women who come in for this procedure and the men who love them. Some want a heart. Others a landing strip. Then there was talk of the undergarments you wear. I will stop right there. You think on this.
While I am not a prude, (after all I do watch, eh hem, I mean own, dvds of SATC.) I am just naive enough to pretend this type of thing really does just go on in New York City on the set of a tv show. I did not need to know any of this information about my neighbors in middle America. I am a visual person...too much, people. TOO. MUCH.
Sigh. My nails look cute, but all this talk really distracted my young nail lady and she didn't come anywhere close to my massage or relaxation expectations. I can chalk it up entertaining. And it got my mind off of the amount of diapers filling our landfills, the plastic in the bottles slowly killing my children and the unhealthy nitrates we are getting in our lunch meats each noon. In other words, it helped me escape reality and perhaps provide some healthy perspective. Maybe it did all it needed to do.
*My apologizes to those of you who are shocked to learn I own SATC. I watch for the shoes. :)
2 comments:
As one of your sassy friends, I am in total agreement that people today are WAY to FREE with information. A little discretion goes a long way. If they only knew that you were a pastor....hee!hee! You could have had fun with that. G
So funny! I agree - TMI. A woman I worked with (and barely knew) once told me about her love of Brazilian waxes. I think my jaw was on the floor at the end of the conversation. I could never have a "normal" meeting with her after that. Seriously, folks - some things are just better left to the imagination :-)
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