Sassy Quack
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Rituals of Womanhood
Recently, I experienced one of the big girl rituals of womanhood for the first time--the mani-pedi. While I consider it a victory that I managed to accomplish this prior to the age of 30, it is apparently horrifying to my fellow women that I had never before rushed off to have my feet attacked with sandpaper by a total stranger. Feeling a bit trepidacious about the whole thing, I did what any self respecting woman would do--I booked a double appointment with my mommy. Now, considering the fact that my salary forces me, at times, to subsist solely on Mrs. Grass, it was necessary to experience this womanly rite at the local Aveda school. This has worked well in the land of hair care...so how different could it be?
WELL...upon our arrival, we were lead to our manicure stations in the "spa". Perhaps I don't understand the definition of "spa" but I certainly didn't think it meant "moldering, windowless storage room". Still, we sat down, and gave it a go. Had my manicurist gone to college, she surely would have been one of those annoying cookie cutter sorority girls that I avoided like the plague during my school years...so naturally, I despised her on the spot. I was at first jealous of my mother's draw who seemed to have a much more interesting personality...until it became glaringly clear that she had experimented with one too many drugs in her day. Nothing creates a relaxing spa atmosphere like a beauty student who alternates between spouting off about the school's use of the slave labor of their students and tales of waxing the buttholes of men at her day job.
The very best part of the experience was the pair of "spa" sandals which merrily disintegrated mid-aisle when I stopped at Blockbuster on the way home. I DID manage to keep my nailpolish on for a whole 24 hours before it chipped and I was compulsively forced to peel it all off...so that was a small victory. Still, I had expected greater things...like violins and massaging whirlpool foot baths...and results that left me looking dainty and perfect.
My apologies to Elle Woods, but the next time I have an emotional crisis, I highly doubt I will go rushing off to soak my fingertips in anyone's bowl of glorified dishwashing liquid for relief. That is what chocolate is for.
Helllooo Snickers,
Sassy Quack
Recently, I experienced one of the big girl rituals of womanhood for the first time--the mani-pedi. While I consider it a victory that I managed to accomplish this prior to the age of 30, it is apparently horrifying to my fellow women that I had never before rushed off to have my feet attacked with sandpaper by a total stranger. Feeling a bit trepidacious about the whole thing, I did what any self respecting woman would do--I booked a double appointment with my mommy. Now, considering the fact that my salary forces me, at times, to subsist solely on Mrs. Grass, it was necessary to experience this womanly rite at the local Aveda school. This has worked well in the land of hair care...so how different could it be?
WELL...upon our arrival, we were lead to our manicure stations in the "spa". Perhaps I don't understand the definition of "spa" but I certainly didn't think it meant "moldering, windowless storage room". Still, we sat down, and gave it a go. Had my manicurist gone to college, she surely would have been one of those annoying cookie cutter sorority girls that I avoided like the plague during my school years...so naturally, I despised her on the spot. I was at first jealous of my mother's draw who seemed to have a much more interesting personality...until it became glaringly clear that she had experimented with one too many drugs in her day. Nothing creates a relaxing spa atmosphere like a beauty student who alternates between spouting off about the school's use of the slave labor of their students and tales of waxing the buttholes of men at her day job.
The very best part of the experience was the pair of "spa" sandals which merrily disintegrated mid-aisle when I stopped at Blockbuster on the way home. I DID manage to keep my nailpolish on for a whole 24 hours before it chipped and I was compulsively forced to peel it all off...so that was a small victory. Still, I had expected greater things...like violins and massaging whirlpool foot baths...and results that left me looking dainty and perfect.
My apologies to Elle Woods, but the next time I have an emotional crisis, I highly doubt I will go rushing off to soak my fingertips in anyone's bowl of glorified dishwashing liquid for relief. That is what chocolate is for.
Helllooo Snickers,
Sassy Quack
posted by SassyQuack # 10:50 PM 
Archives
March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006
