With the Summer hightailing it out of dodge while EVERYTHING pumpkin is busting through the door I decided it was a perfect time for some much-needed pampering. A mani pedi does wonders for this girl.
Recently I switched up facilities that tend to my hooves. I was no longer feeling the love at Style Nails, so I started an affair with Cuticle Corner.
No fear people my feet are still snickered about in foreign languages as if they’re not even in the damn room. I really wish I knew how to say “maybe it’s your freakishly small hands that make my feet appear exceptionally large!” That seems like a lot of work, so I just let them gossip.
I must say I LOVE the way Geenie works her magic, however, like everything else good in this world there is a price. Mine is being told “RELAX” “Stop finger fighting me!” and my very favorite “I will charge you one dollar every time I tell you to relax.” Yes, I keep going back.
On Friday, I had an appointment for 3:00. I arrived at 2:40 with the intention of scanning the polish selection and catching up on the latest issue of People magazine. Unbeknownst to me, this is against the obvious secret code of nail salons.
First Geenie asks “why you come so early?” I innocently responded with the facts about color choice, which was not the correct answer. Next thing I know I’m being escorted to the pedicure chair of shame where “Helen” will now be doing my pedicure. Pedicure prison is a real thing at this salon.
Why I felt the need to explain to “Helen,” who could care less, that I just wanted to take my time choosing a color and read the People magazine is beyond me, but I did. Negative zero Ef’s were given by Helen who bitched in Spanish to her co-worker the entire time.
Once I was paroled over to the manicure station I was greeted by Geenie, where I sat relaxed in silence. It might have been the fear of being sent to solitary that kept me on my toes.
Just as Geenie was done, I asked if she had time to do my eyebrows. Because at this moment I had lost my mind.
I hopped up on the table, and without missing a beat, the crucifixion of my eyebrows began.
- Your brow wild.
- They so thick this will hurt.
- A slew of under the breath disgust.
What would an eyebrow crucifixion be without dragging other body parts into the mix? Pretty freaking awesome if you’re asking me!
Sadly the words “what about lip?” were uttered and I responded with a very optimistic yet clearly wrong “why? Do you think I need it?” If only I could go back in time.
- I make you look like woman again.
- This hurt bad, very bad.
- Welcome back to woman.
Conclusion: My friends and family are either too horrified to inform me that I missed my calling as a Tony Orlando impersonator or Geenie is a bitch.
Enjoy the ride!
The Fur Balls!
Leading up to our vacation the concern was growing about the fur babies and their reaction to everything salty & sandy.
Peanut sat on my lap shaking like a leaf for the 2-hour drive. The poor little guy did not know what the heck was happening, other than his toys and bed were going with him. The last time this happened his previous owners left him at our house and never came back. Can dogs have PTSD? Yes.
Landon, on the other hand, slept like a husband, occasionally opening his eyes to check on his surroundings. Oh, it must be nice to be Landon.
Ocean City, NJ does not allow dogs on the beach during the regular season, however, the dog-loving beachfront homeowners paying a zillion dollars in taxes say “Oh please, just tell me to get off.” Gotta love the rule breakers who welcomed our pups to their protest.
Peanut & Landon LOVED the beach during the very early morning and late evening as much as we did. I think they sensed the peace.
Peanut channeled his inner mountain lion while climbing the dunes, and Landon played tag with the waves. Sandy paws are happy paws.
It’s strange, but I swear dog owners have some sort of magnetic force that attracts them to other dog owners.
Look who I met on my way to the way to the beach. Shhh … Peanut & Landon do not know about my Summer Fling.
Ladies and gentleman, meet Lucy. Could a name be more perfect?
This little-redheaded beauty is a 12-week old Cavapoo. Cavalier King Charles Spaniel crossbred with a Poodle a/k/a freaking adorable.
Her owners picked her up in Rochester, NY on Friday and drove her straight to their Summer home on the beach. Sadly, I only received a blank stare when I asked if they would consider rescuing a middle-aged woman.
I had the pleasure of seeing Lucy every day. We mainly discussed how the salt air was not friendly to our hair. You know, girl talk.
Ok, back to the fur boys that stole my heart. Spoiled is an understatement.
Here they are sitting outside of the ice cream parlor waiting for their order. Vanilla soft serve is their favorite.
They definitely received the memo about ice cream not having calories at the shore.
They went for walks.
Ate ice cream more than once.
Ran on the beach.
Went to the Chatterbox, a dog-friendly restaurant in town.
Enjoyed the beautiful sea breeze on the deck every night.
They were surrounded by all the humans they love unconditionally for 7 solid days.
“They’re on vacation” was the justification for all of the extra spoiling.
Seems like they’re on vacation every damn day while their home, but who am I to judge.
Surround yourselves with those you LOVE and Enjoy the Ride!
There comes a time in any relationship when you start to dread gift giving holidays. I know, I know but if I yearn for something, I go get myself something. The thought of leaving “hints”around the house for someone to notice is exhausting. Not to mention they would need to be the size of a billboard surrounded by bright flashing lights for anyone to “notice.” This holiday season I made the executive decision to start giving the gift of experiences to my immediate love one. Fun memories can go a long way.
My first decision really didn’t take much time at all. We have both been talking about getting a massage for months, so I found a cool salon in the city Body Restoration that offers a couples massage and ta-da my experience was purchased. Hmm…did you ever get the feeling that talking about something and doing something might be completely different?
Well, our appointment was this past Sunday and I couldn’t wait to give some lovin to these sore muscles. All week I was providing my husband with a daily countdown to the big day, but he wasn’t really giving me the “OMG! I CAN’T WAIT EITHER!” vibe in return. So I finally had to ask “Are you excited about our massages?” Insert long pause along with several odd facial expressions. He was nervous because he wasn’t sure what to expect. What?! Really?! I’m happy to report all those fears left as soon as he hit the heated table. I heard him SNORING twice!
Speaking of heated tables … I was so relaxed that I barely noticed that my right nipple was practically engulfed in flames midway through my massage. You know you’re relaxed when your arm is too limp to shift your burning nipple as you tell yourself things like … “it’s cool you have another one.”
We must have looked like two linguine noodles as we headed over to Rittenhouse Square for a much-needed bite to eat. The complimentary cucumber water and cashews only went so far.
It was our lucky day because we stumbled into a great little eatery called Rouge. I was immediately surprised at how crowded this place was at 2 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon. Apparently this is the time of day when the extremely wealthy eat their meals.
As we sat at the bar waiting for our table I immediately started to absorb my surroundings. For starters there was a beautiful young woman fawning over what I believed to be a fossil of some sort, but then realized it was talking and footing the bill. They were all over each other like teenagers, which was bizarre, but then again money has been known to provoke odd behavior.
Since I have what some may consider a super power of sorts … yes, you read that right. I have the ability to zero in on conversations all around me. Sort of like a human radar without the big bulky satellite dishes. This is how I learned that the fossil’s name was Jonathan and his young lady friend was Beverly. Apparently Jonathan let his penis take Beverly shopping for a Burberry cashmere wrap. How do I know? Let’s see…she never shut up about it while spinning around Jonathan like a belly dancer!
There was also a group of elders enjoying a lovely brunch at a table to my right. Just looking at them you knew they were frequent patrons. This wasn’t too hard to figure out since the entire wait staff hovered over them like a group of seagulls waiting for a fry to drop.
Just as they were getting ready to leave a very distinctive odor filled the room. Nothing bad, just odd. Then it hit me…it was the scent of old money. I’ve had the pleasure of getting a whiff of this before from one of our patients at work. There is a huge difference between the scent of the money that regular folks use and this old money.
My money, when I even have the pleasure of having some in my wallet, usually goes undetected because it’s in and out in a flash. But this “old money”, it gives off the scent of mothballs, aged scotch and wool. I just imagine bundles of cash aging in the comforts of a luxurious safe, while without even breaking a sweat, multiplying at record speed. I suspect the eldest money in the safe provides daily lectures that begin with the line … “when I first came to the safe.”
All in all it was a wonderful day loaded with memories. The massages were incredible! The food, drinks & conversations ours and everyone else’s were entertaining and the company… just priceless. Well, not literally “priceless”, but definitely worth every new dollar.
Take time to make some memories with the ones you love, even if your nipple is on fire and your cash flow dwindles at the speed of light, just … Enjoy the Ride!