I know what I�m taking Salsalita to do before the wedding. Manicure and Pedicure and eyebrow wax. If she wants. Yes, I�m taking her to get her corns massaged and her bunions shaved. Or something like that. I must recommend though that she shave her legs beforehand lest she be mortified as I was yesterday.
Knowing that Wacky is coming home soon comforts me, and yet terrifies me a little, because my freedom will go bye-bye. Freedom to shower alone, freedom to sleep as late as I want, freedom from cartoons and freedom from Barney. In fact, I will lose my freedom from relaxation.
It�s a high price to pay, and yet so worth it, to hold your little one. So, these next two weeks are my last hurrah. Knowing this, and knowing my feet were not ready for summer, I get my nails and eyebrows done. I talk to my favorite nail guy, who is so gentle and sweet. He is doing this other lady�s nails.
I listen as they talk in their native language among one another. I think that irritates many people, but then, they�ve never left their homeland to go somewhere else. Speaking their language comforts them and you know it doesn�t bother me. I go to Little Havana in Miami, I love it. I go to Cuban Miami, everything's in Spanish. So what? I don�t own this country.
When I visit this particular nail salon, I am absorbed into their atmosphere, their cocoon. They beautify, massage and spoil you. You are being taken care of. All of them know my name and all of them ask about my daughter and work. I know some them are married and which ones are waiting. Which ones have kids.
Silvia talks to me about a friend I sent in who really loved her nails afterwards. I mention I�d like to come in next week for a pedicure.
I was hesitant because 1.) I didn�t bring sandals 2.)My feet had been held hostage in my tennies all day, and therefore, were probably a little ripe 3.) Since my fingernails were wet, the tech would have to take my shoes and socks off for me. Have I yet mentioned the mortification?
I told her I�d come back next week, but she insisted, saying, �No problem You relax.� Min-Min rolled up my pants, and I sank my tired tootsies into very warm blue swirly water. This was bliss. But it evolved into rapture when she pressed a button and my chair�s leather back began to vibrate! Oooh. I could get used to this. This was better than men, until I thought about Mr. National Defense, who one could just look at for days and be enamored. Almost that good, not quite.
Min-Min, the patient beautiful woman she is, first removes the fire engine red polish I had on my toes, which had been chipped for at least a few weeks. I could see her thinking, �So yesterday!�, but she wasn�t mean to me. Then she rolled up her sleeves and patiently began cutting my embarrassingly long toenails. She exhibits no frustration when she files, buffs, saws or massages my toes. Mouth hanging slightly open, I am in a state of euphoria, as I realize that my feet will be girly again. I promise myself that I will wear shoes outside for at least a few weeks.
Min-Min uses a scrub on my tootsies then cuticle remover, and then she pulls out the mother of all pedicure tools. I am silent in my reverence, as I behold �the razor�. Nothing can stand up to �the razor�. All skin conditions bow to �the razor�. No bunion, no corn, no callous is safe.
Min-Min calmly, more than I would, takes it out of the package and puts it into the slot on the tool.
My feet have been soaking for 25 minutes or so and I guess she has loosed up all the old stuff. She holds my foot up, much further than I would (because I have long monkey feet), and the chaos begins. The formerly unruffled Min-Min is ducking and dodging my skin. It�s flying everywhere.
A skin snowfall now threatens her and she can�t even hide her weak stomach for dead skin. I think she might be pregnant, because I saw her do this other ladies toes and they were much crustier than mine.
Her face is tense with concentration now. She does my heel, my sides of my feet, the pads close to my toes. Sweat beads form on her forehead and upper lip. I am trying not to laugh, because she�s holding a razor. I really don�t want to make her mad, however, it is funny and I�m trying to squash this donkey laugh that is building up in me.
I did my part. I warned them I�d never had a professional pedicure. Those small children were scared of my feet. I�m just kidding, but I did warn them.
Everything�s all fun and games until I catch a glimpse of my legs. I am horrified to suddenly remember that the last time I shaved my legs was a week ago. OH-MY-GOD! And, you know I�m not a blonde, so it�s not like I can really ignore it.
Nothing is funny anymore. Min-Min sits back for a moment. The hardest work done. She gets out the body cr�me, but I tell her not to do my legs. I apologize for not shaving my legs. I tell her, �You don�t have to do my legs. Next time,� but she says, �You pay, I do.� So, she massages the horsehair on my legs and feet smiling and chatting with me. I smile back but inside I think I may die of embarrassment. This can�t be over soon enough.
Min-Min is a professional. She sees corns, calluses, ingrown hairs, gnarly feet, smelly feet every day. But I was a bad customer. I make sure I tip her big and she smiles that big beautiful smile. I am in awe of these women. They are so beautiful and sexy and they don�t even have to try. Shiny black hair, delicate features, tiny bodies, but womanly, instinctively fashionable and graceful. Next to these women I feel like Mr. Ed, clumsy and all that.
But they are so nice; it�s hard to be jealous.
I feel energized afterward. Pure heaven. I have to take Salsalita for a visit. I�m sure her feet aren�t half as gnarly as mine were, and if mine can look pretty now, hers can be beautiful.
On a sad note, my friend�s Mom died. Said friend, let�s call her Hailstorm and I haven�t talked to each other in 4 years, and haven�t been friends in 9 years. See we had a blowout over a guy, it was stupid. He was my boyfriend, she was my best friend, and they were messing around. When I had broken up with boyfriend, let�s call him Slick, two years before, it was only for a couple months. I mean, he was being an ass. So, we took a break. Me and his best friend Moe met up and we bounced, once.
The only people I told were my two best friends in the world. Magpie, and Hailstorm. When I became suspicious about the sneaking around of Slick and Hailstorm, it culminated in a huge fight one night.
Hailstorm said, �You�re just suspicious because you cheated on him with Moe,� I was pissed at her because not only were Slick, Hailstorm and I all together in the car, but that she was my friend and friends don�t tell secrets. This wasn�t about that ancient break-up when Moe and I got together; it was about my boyfriend and my best friend sneaking around behind my back. Humiliated, I dumped both of them. I was 19. It broke my heart.
And I know now that Slick had drunkenly raped her later, and I know that even though I know I was right about the messing around because they dated for a year after I dumped both of them, I didn�t make any difference because I still missed her. He treated her like crap.
I missed driving around with her, listening to AC/DC and Aerosmith. I missed going over to sleep at her house because it was one of the few safe places that I knew of, and I missed going to sleep with her to Pink Floyd�s �The Wall�. And we only slept after we�d talked ourselves to death about gossip, boys, etc.
She was precious to me. When I found out about their affair, I was devastated. I called her some nasty names, and she was offended that I called her names, but not that they were true.
Her mother, Lily, was going to adopt me before Cinders got me. Lily gave me a place to live whenever things got bad. I feel bad for Hailstorm. Nobody deserves to lose his or her mom.
10:28 a.m. - 2003-06-17
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
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