Because some days you just need a “Me” day….

Hey all!

Sorry to be MIA for so long, but life has been crazy the past few weeks, and it doesn’t seem like it is going to let up anytime soon! I’ll be trying to post as often as I am able to, including an upcoming piece I will be doing on a future acupuncture visit I have scheduled (never tried it, kinda terrified about it, lol) and whatever else comes up in life.

For now, I’ll be posting about my little “me” day I had recently. Spray tans gone bad, fake lashes of horror, pedicures gone wrong….it was a memorable day. 😛

With how crazy busy things have been around here, I was in desperate need of some down time. I rarely indulge in any little guilty pleasures like getting my hair or nails done! My husband and I had our 12 year anniversary this month, and I wanted to feel “pretty” for it, so I decided to spiffy myself up, haha.

First stop was the tanning salon. I am naturally a bit on the tan side, and I really didn’t feel like laying under tanning lights for half an hour, so I opted for a spray tan.

I just wanted a little more even color with a little bit of a bronzed look to it. It has been YEARS since the last time I did a spray tan, and the booths have really changed from the ‘old’ days.

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I know, this photo is totally unnecessary, but my husband is a huge fan of ‘Friends’, and I couldn’t get this image out of my head. 😛

I stopped in a EuroTan for my spray, and was directed into a room with a large machine in it. The lady who had escorted me in the room told me to push a button when I was ready and the machine would tell me what to do. She then abruptly closed the door behind her on her way out and left me alone in the room feeling a little nervous and bewildered. I went ahead and stripped down to my birthday suit and stood inside the machine. Upon pressing the button, a woman with a very unnatural sounding british accent began giving me instructions telling me which ways to turn and what was happening to me.

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Though the machine has stickers of feet imprints on the floor so that you know where to stand, they really should have included some sort of image chart showing you HOW to stand. Getting a “more even color” didn’t go so well. I’m not sure what kind of contortionist you need to be for these stand up spray tan booths, but apparently lack of flexibility will result in certain areas of your body being striped like a tiger. To give you a mental visual, picture me standing sideways, and then picture my tan/not tan body portions being very close in resemblance to an Oreo. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the entire bottom half of my boobs was without a doubt, at least 3 shades lighter than the rest of my body. For the sake of information, I am going to humiliate myself now by giving you the ACTUAL visual of the situation…..

*WARNING* – The following images are probably some of the most “revealing” I will ever post of myself. If you are not comfortable with near-nudity, scroll fast. 😛

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There is a reason they keep the lighting so dark in these places…. it actually looked far worse than what this picture shows. When I walked out to my car and was able to see myself in natural lighting, I chose to wear a jacket for the rest of the day. On a very hot California day. Yes, it was that bad.

So yeah.. I wasn’t feeling all too attractive for my anniversary night. I think my options were pretty much down to “candle light only” or very… “creative” role playing.. rawr. 😛

I did talk to the tanning lady about the tiger stripe situation, and she assured me that as the day went on and the color set, it would become more even. To help it along, she sent me to the stand up tan “booster” machine (basically a tanning bed that you stand in and are then blinded from an inescapable 360 degree angle) for a few minutes. End result: she lied.

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Not one to be discouraged, I decided I would move on to the nail salon for a quick mani-pedi. And by quick, I mean longest mani-pedi of my life, and not in the good way!

At the salon, there were several asian people working. Big surprise. Hell, even my in-laws own a salon (in another city, which is why I didn’t just go there!). Of all the employees, only one was male. Of all the employees, only he could not speak a word of english. Of all the employees, only he looked older than my grandpa and was wearing coke bottle glasses. It is for this reason, that I took pity and did not say anything when he failed to remove my nail polish completely, before painting over my nails with a clear coat. Or why I didn’t say anything when he filed all of my nails, both hand and foot, at awkward 45 degree angles. No, I don’t mean to a point.. I mean to a slope. I also didn’t say anything when my toes began bleeding, or when the horribly painted white lines of my french pedicure were turning pink from mixing with the blood and trailing down in a way that made it almost appear as if you could actually see my toes crying. I said nothing. The woman in the chair next to me however, took it upon herself to make sure EVERYONE was aware of the situation. Instead of one of the other employees coming over and calmly fixing the issues, the women of the shop instead decided to (loudly) verbally assault the man who did my pedicure and then make him remove all the polish and do it again. Now that he and I were BOTH sufficiently humiliated, I believe we had a moment of silent agreement to not make any eye contact, with each other or others, and to just get this over with. Thankfully, I keep a file in my purse, and I was able to even out the slopes.. though at the expense of a significant amount of nail length.

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With the mani-pedi situation now behind me, I decided to move on to something a little bit different. Eyelash extensions! Not the quickie strip kind that you lay over your own lashes. I went for the actual 2+ hour process of having individual lashes attached to each and every one of your own real lashes, making them longer and thicker. I have always hated my eyelashes. Too short, too sparse, too much work to look like I am not a blank zombie staring off into the void. So eyelashes sounded like a fantastic idea!

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This process basically involves you laying on a bed for 2-4 hours with your eyes taped like a transplant patient while a total stranger comes dangerously close to making you a real future transplant patient.

Tweezers. Yes, tweezers.

Pointy, long, metal tweezers. They are weaved in and out and all around your lashes for 2-4 hours. And yes, sometimes.. they do slip. If you decide to try this, make sure you go pee first. If the time doesn’t do a number on your bladder, the sheer terror of that first “slip” with the tweezers certainly will!

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After several hours, several slips, and then an even more terrifying situation in which my upper and lower lashes had accidentally gotten glued together, it was finally done! Though it was not the most enjoyable experience in the world, the outcome is actually totally worth it.. or at least it will be worth it until the day I am permanently maimed during the process. That didn’t happen this time, so for now I can say it was worth it. I love the way my eyes look, and now will not be in need of eyeliner/mascara for the next two months, unless of course I want to go for a very “dramatic” look.

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All said and done, I’m not sure this day provided me the relaxing down time I was seeking but it was still fun to just have a “Me” day of silliness and a few awkward memories. The anniversary dinner with the husband (..and kids.. *Sigh*) was pleasant and I am still really loving the lashes!

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