|maybe I'll see Obama at the luau|
It was sort of a last minute trip - it's my son's winter break from school next week, and we haven't taken a beach vacation in forEVER, and the boys voted on Hawaii (it was number two on my son's travel bucket list, right after Macchu Pichu). So ... off we're going.
I had to do a little girly prep for the beach. My body is nice and strong and pretty fit, but right now, in the middle of the coldest winter we've had in 30 years, it's also white and scaly and not looking terribly beach-ready. And I am ready to feel some sun on my skin, so the bikini will be making its debut.
It's been a humdinger of a week at work, and the only time I could manage to sneak out was this afternoon. So I decided to go for it all at once and booked appointments for a bikini wax, a pedicure, and a spray tan, all in a row. I've only had one other bikini wax in my life, and that was nine years ago for a trip to Florida. I got pregnant on that trip, come to think of it, so let's hope to jeebus there's not some sort of weird cause-and-effect thing going on there.
Though I know it's vain, I feel better with a little color on my skin - a little healthier, a smidge tighter, more confident. Unfortunately, I have the type of skin that burns and burns and burns again, and then maybe will reluctantly begin to turn a reddish shade of brown after a week or so of exposure. I don't have that kind of time, and it's health hazard anyway, so over the past couple of years I've done the tan-in-a-bottle thing. Usually on my own with drugstore stuff, because I'm cheap and want instant gratification. But someone told me recently about a local spa that does it for you by hand, and it wasn't expensive, so I figured I'd give it a shot. I wasn't sure what to expect. I kind of envisioned being back on the massage table with some nice music playing, while a silent attendant slathered me up - first one side, and then the other. That was, uh, not how it went down. Instead, I walked into the place and was greeted by the owner, whom I'd met before - she lives in my neighborhood. She informed me that she would be doing my tan, and directed me to the bathroom, where she told me to remove all my clothes except my bikini bottom, don the shower cap she'd nicely laid out for me, and stand in the open tile shower with my arms held out. Then she turned on what looked like one of those big house-painting machines, and well, she painted me from head to toe. With this big airbrush thing. When she was done she handed me a hair dryer and told me to blow dry myself. Which felt kind of nice and I might actually do that part again. But maybe at home.
I won't say it was an unpleasant experience, because it wasn't. She was extremely professional and set me at ease immediately, and the actual tan turned out great, just a nice little touch of brown, not fake-looking at all. Still, though ... my neighbor has now seen me topless. Wearing a shower cap.
I might need a couple extra mai tais to dull the memory.
I'll have one for each of you, too, my beloved four readers. See you in a week or so!