I am a lucky, lucky girl. True story. I have the best best friend in the world, and the best mother-in-law in the world, and the best baby and husband and the very best pair of jeans.
The jeans I threw in because I put them on this morning and they make me appear to be quite slim.
At any rate, I’m particularly grateful for those particular (what a word to type….fingers don’t want to spell it) things right now because yesterday, my friend and I got to run away from our homes and children and husbands and have a girl’s day.
It didn’t really go very well.
The plan, as it stood the night before, was as follows:
I was to arrive at M’s house by 9:30 in the morning, which meant I needed to be in the car (my mother-in-law’s car that she graciously allowed me to borrow) by 7:30. I generally wake up at about six anyway, so this wasn’t going to be a problem.
From M’s house, we were to pile into her car and drop her three kiddos off with a grandparent on our way into the nearest tourist/ski town where we would be spending the day. We would be there by ten o’clock, give or take a couple of minutes.
At that point, we could go have lunch together in one of the restaurants down town, and from there proceed to the movie theater, where we would give in to the hype and temptation to watch ‘Magic Mike’. More on that later…
After the movie, we gave ourselves approximately one hour in which to locate the day spa where we had scheduled for ourselves manicures and pedicures for 2:30. According to our information, that would take two hours, and then we would drive back to M’s house so I could hop back into the car and be home with my small child no later than 7 p.m.
It was a good, solid plan.
But then I woke up late.
At 6:40, I stumbled out of bed, to discover that I hadn’t heard my child’s morning chatter OR crying over the noise of the A/C that Clint installed in our bedroom window.
From there, I had to locate Clint’s iPod and his pants, neither of which items I had so much as touched, let alone used, so how should I know where he left them? Why do men insist that their wives have moved things on them in the night? Why would I steal his pants? Especially after the previous night while I was having a shower and Clint took my glasses off the bathroom counter (this was after he barged in to use the bathroom and shut the lights off while I had soap in my eyes).
At 7:15, Clint sent me to the store here to pick up cigarettes.
I managed to brush my teeth around 7:50.
I was putting gas in the car at 8:20.
I drove as fast as legally possible for the first 30 miles, and then was held up by emergency vehicles passing through at random intervals in town.
In the next town, there was road destruction going on, which left me sitting still for 25 minutes.
And then I hit a road that I couldn’t even go the speed limit on most of the time because it’s full of sudden sharp curves and huge hills.
I pulled into M’s driveway at 10:15, only to find out that she had to first take apart a chain saw (only M, I swear…she’s got more mad skillz than anyone I know) and pick up parts and who knows what other little errands for her husband. Or grandpa. Maybe both, I can’t keep track of all the people she helps out.
There was no time for lunch by the time we got into town, so we split the two cheeseburger meal from McDonald’s and ate as we crossed through town and eventually parked in front of the movie theater (a miracle in that area, I assure you) and got our popcorn and drinks and shuffled through the completely dark theater, certain we were probably going to end up sitting on somebody.
As the previews rolled, however, and lit up the room better (why couldn’t that have happened while we were feeling our way into seats?!), we found that we were the only two people in the place.
Weird. But, nobody told us to shut up when we had to discuss parts of the movie.
Ah, the movie. Magic Mike. Yeah, if you haven’t already wasted your money to go see that, good…and don’t. If you MUST watch it, seriously, wait for it to come out on TV. It had no ending! I mean, it obviously ended, but…
The story line was just…how do I explain this without giving away the non-existent plot? Well, that’s not very fair; there WAS a plot, it was just drawn out waaaaay too long for 3/4 of the movie, and then didn’t make any sense for the last 1/4.
And then it was over. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.
M and I both were going, “Wait, WHAT?”
When we got back into the car, we realized we’d been very nearly blocked in. Somebody had parked much too close behind us, and there was some kind of utility truck on the corner that had set cones out in a line right up to the front of M’s car. Probably she should have just driven through the cones, but instead the car (I swear to you it did it all on its own) went backwards at a speed of, ohhh, about .00005 mph, right into the front bumper of the stupid car (sorry car, you weren’t stupid, just your owner) behind us.
And some girl walking along the sidewalk said, “Bumper check!”
Probably I should have gotten out and kicked her in the teeth, but I didn’t. Instead, at M’s request, I surveyed the damage- there was none, not so much as a scratch on either car- and tore skin off my elbow on an air vent on my way out.
So, that was good fun.
Fast-forward to the mani/pedi appointment. Valet parking. Relaxation room/client resting area. Lemon ice water and hot tea. Candles burning in the bathroom. Terry cloth hand towels.
I’ll not toy with your patience by describing in detail the entire two hours spent there, but here’s some high-lights:
My manicurist was wearing a black thong, according to M, who was constantly on the wrong side of this lady. Note to ‘professionals’ out there (unless your profession requires you showing your panties): tuck in your shirt, wear higher waisted pants, anything. Really.
M’s manicurist was a young guy, nice enough, but not good. She left the place with as much nail polish on her skin as on her nails.
It’s really not very relaxing to hear random opera singing floating in through the wide open window.
It’s really not very relaxing to have birds thumping into the glass of said window. Anyone ever hear of blinds? Curtains? Yeesh!
The receptionist forgot to get M’s car back to us until M ASKED. Not that we have so much experience with valet parking or day spas, but I mean, if you’re going to offer the service, shouldn’t you do it right? Granted, it’s not like we didn’t get the car back at all, we just had to stand around feeling awkward for longer than we wanted to.
That pretty much ended our day. By the time we parted ways, we’d decided we would have had a better time just sitting around M’s house, which we will keep in mind for the next time (five years from now, probably) we get a girl’s day.
Cristen's Corner 