Beauty-full

In order to get somehow presentable for public consumption at my wedding in October, I have scheduled various beauty treatment appointments: a series of three waxes for eyebrows and bikini line; facials; a manicure and pedicure. I just had the facial last weekend, and it was good! The woman doing my facial had really lovely skin, so I trusted her advice about skin care. One of the things I learned was that I was exfoliating too much, causing my face to be irritated, red, and to overproduce oil. Did you know that using a washcloth is enough of an exfoliant, generally? And that if you need more of an exfoliation, you should only perform that once a week? I didn’t. I used a Buff Puff every day, because my face would produce a lot of oil that became a somewhat thick layer at the end of the day. To scrub it gently each day made it feel squeeky clean and fresh. It turns out I was doing it all wrong. I bought some moderately-expensive skincare products by Yon Ka. I used the face wash last night with a wash cloth, followed by the moisturizer. My face feels so good today, and seems less red than usual. It could be psychological, and even if it is, who cares?

I’m debating going back for two facials before the wedding, or just one more. It’s pretty expensive, but such a nice treat. I probably won’t be able to justify an expense like this again, especially not on any kind of regular basis.

I love getting married! You get to do such indulgent things like facials, cake tasting, and beautiful dress-buying! Divorce however, is hell. I do not recommend it. Oh sure, it’s great for losing 25 pounds, but not so good for the nervous system. Or your mental state. That’s enough of that, I’d rather go back to a nicer topic.

Here’s a nice topic for you: hot waxing. I read the most hilarious description of waxing, from Dooce. She writes: “It wasn’t the first bikini wax I’ve ever endured. In fact, I’ve had about a half dozen bikini waxes. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, used to the ripping and the tearing and the rending of my loins into shivering, hairless flanks. But anyone who’s ever had the hair stripped from her groin with rectangular strips of hot wax knows that you’ll never get used to it. I mean, come on, it would be like getting used to being chased down and clobbered with a lead pipe every three to four weeks, only to have to tip the motherfucker who did it to you.”

I’ll leave you with that.