I won't bore you or myself with what I've been up to during my summer "vacation" through written words about visiting various friends and family. Instead, you can view these pictures.
Seashells after the storm in the gulf
We drove from Florida to Delaware without
hitting any traffic. We get to NJ and was greeted
by a monstrosity of a delay.
Vegan buffalo cesar wrap from Livin' on the Veg on LBI.
LBI.
Favorite breakfast spot on Long Island.
Blueberry stuffed french toast, coconut pineapple pancakes,
and a "side" of hashbrowns.
The massive bag that got stuck to the pipes
under my car.
Me and my new hat.
Drinking wine out of a tiki straw with mom.
Onto today's news...
My mom and I decided to get a pedicure. Upon arriving at the salon, I noticed that there were no female employees. Instead, three men were sitting at their stations listening to their iPods or playing on their iPhones. Sweet. I turned to my mom and said, "Are we really going to do this?"
Now, maybe I was being unfair. Anyone should be allowed to perform a job no matter their age, sex, or race. Right?
We proceeded with our pedicures. I hopped up on my chair and sank my tootsies into lukewarm water and sat looking down on my pedicurist (I am not quite sure if that is an actual word. If it isn't, well, then, I just made it up.). He was probably in his late twenties or early thirties while my mother's was in his forties or fifties. Her pedicurist babbled about one thing or another a few times throughout the session while mine remained silent.
My pedicure started the normal way a pedicure does - removal of toenail polish followed by a good scrub with a pumice stone. At first rub my foot jolted in the air and almost involuntarily kicked the guy in the face. Fortunately, contact between my foot and his face did not happen thanks to his quick reflexes. He then proceeded to scour about three layers of skin off of my feet with caution. Pay back?
While this was going on, my mom was dealing with her own issues. After her pedicurist removed her polish, he came back with something that reminded me of this scene from Dumb and Dumber:
"What are you doing with that?!" mom yelped. It turns out, the apparatus was not some type of chain saw for her toenails but rather something to take the dead skin off of her feet...scary times.
After my feet were nice and raw, the man cleansed my legs with an exfoliating scrub and proceeded to lather up them up with some lotion for the massage portion of my pedicure. And now the reason why it's extremely uncomfortable for a man to give you a pedi - during this point of a pedicure you are supposed to relax and enjoy having your muscles soothed and loosened. Sometimes, it feels so nice that one can't help but release a big sigh or even a little moan of pleasure. When it's a woman rubbing my feet and calves, it's no big deal. HOWEVER, with a man at my feet with a probable view up my shorts, the last thing I want to do is make any noise that could remotely be associated with pleasure. Na ah. I sat in my chair reading about the Nazi war criminal who was just arrested in Hungary on my iPhone to avoid any sign on my face that might read 'oh this feels good.' Am I being ridiculous here? Or am I speaking with some validity?
An hour and $23 later my toes don't even look that good. There is polish all over my feet! I think it goes without saying that the next time I go into a nail salon and see a bunch of men playing on their gadgets, I am walking out. Call me sexist if you want. No man besides my boyfriend is touching my toes again!
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