Did you ever look really, really forward to something very minor… only to have your hopes crushed when it didn’t happen?
I feel like a little kid whose day at the zoo got rained out. I so wanted a facial today!
And before you start going, “ooh, snooty girl, what a hard life you have,” just shut your face, because this is exactly facial number two in my 25 years on the planet, so I don’t think I’m diva material just yet. And the first one was not exactly a relaxing experience. So yeah, with all the job stress and school stress and whatnot, I was really holding on to the hour of being girly and taken care of and pampered.
Oh well. Poor Keri (the esthe-… esthi-… facial and wax lady) has some terrible disc drama going on in her back that made her lose the feeling in her arm. So I do feel very bad for her, aside from my little selfish pout. She’s really nice and so pretty that she sort of sells her own services: you go there and she looks so nice that I want to do anything she suggests. Plus she reminds me of a really nice lady from when I was little.
But, as my latest object of worship, Doug Rushkoff, says, that is coercion… and it’s me being disoriented and reduced to a state of childishness and taken advantage of. He came to talk to class last night and I could just have listened forever. (No, he wasn’t hot. He had a Jonathan Larson vibe about him… slight man with short rumpled hair, old sweater, jeans and sneakers, thoroughly into what he was saying and having so much fun with it.) But he was so ON and so excited and he had the counterculture ideas but they were realistic and rational and honest and homey and it just totally turned me on (No, not like that. God, people.) and he is my new Thing. Go read some Rushkoff. This minute!
But with that said? I REALLY wanted Keri to give me a facial tonight. Sigh.
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