First of all, what is the deal with Josh Groban and hair salons? I have only ever heard Josh Groban on the radio at hair salons and EVERY time the person cutting my hair has gone on and on about how much she loves his voice. I'm sure he's "talented," as they say--if you like that sort of thing. I just can't figure out the hair salon connection. Perhaps they are just making conversation. "Just making conversation" causes a lot of problems. For example, my ward council was talking about our ward christmas party. "What do you think?" asked the bishop. Of course, who really cares? But I believe people felt compelled to "just make conversation." Yadda, yadda, yadda, now we are having our ward Christmas party at Independence High (the local alternative high school). Dinner will be provided but it's "bring your own" plates, utensils, and paprika doobies.
So Christian gave me a gift certificate to go to a spa for Mother's day last year and I used it last Saturday. It's not really my bag but I'm trying to become more of a spa-type person because it is so popular among the celebs. I had a pedicure. This is supposed to be luxurious and relaxing but it is not. First of all, someone is scrutinizing, touching, and "exfoliating" (grating) your feet. I just tell myself it is their job. You know, like a nurse or a maid. But the worst part is holding up your feet the whole time at a certain level just above their hands because you don't really want them to have to bear the whole weight of your legs. It's tiring.
Then I got a hair cut. My stylist was nervous, but excited as I gave her the challenge of a lifetime: "Make it look like Richard Gere's hair, but for a girl, and good."
I could have gotten a massage but opted out. You do realize that you have to be naked, or partially naked for those don't you? I've had one before, again--a present from Christian. Christian had seen the masseur and as he dropped me off giggled and said, "Have fun." My masseur was a huge man. Huge in a clumsy and lumbering way rather than a muscular swedish way. He also had a very stuffed nose so he breathed heavily through his mouth the whole time. Very funny, Christian. I've since sworn off massages but people get them all the time. I just don't see how Mormons get to do this, but we can't drink iced-tea. Let me be clear, I don't drink iced-tea--especially since my liquor-guzzling father-in-law schooled me in Word of Wisdom matters. But serioulsy folks, half-naked on a table with a heavily-breathing fat man and I don't technically even have to mention it to my bishop? Doesn't that seem like and oversight to you?
But every so often something wonderful happens at the spa and this is the real reason I persist in going about once every 2 years. One time I was gettting a manicure by a middle-aged woman who, as it turned out was recently divorced from an infamous Utah CIA guy that was arrested for being a spy. She was a little bitter about the whole thing and VERY forthcoming with interesting details. I couldn't believe my ears. You can google it, if you want. I can't because I have to disassemble my daughter's bed (with tools) so she and my 2 year old can trade beds. It's just another one of my crazy schemes to get them to sleep better. Desperate times call for desperate measures.