As much as I would like to, I don’t wake up like “this”. So every couple of weeks, I visit my aesthetician… beautician… the lady who does things to my face to eventually make me look prettier. I always anticipate that time. You have to know, as a natural light blonde, my eyebrows are practically transparent. Especially in the summer. It’s perfect for the rest of my body – not so much my eyebrows. And I normally wouldn’t notice – until I have them colored in. And now that I’ve told you, you will also notice! Hah! I usually have my lashes dyed at the same time since that saves me about a month and a half of mascara (plus, I don’t wear fake eyelashes – they make me feel like a transvestite).
I went to a few salons until I found my current one – the last one was above a barber shop in Westwood and the lady had me sit upright in a chair while she had me close my eyes, put pads underneath my lashes, tinted them, and simultaneously colored in my eyebrows. If I could’ve balanced a couple of spinning plates on sticks with my hands and feet, the number would’ve been complete. So, going through that whole routine of sitting upright like the elephant man is not the most relaxing experience. And I need to relax!
My current beauty place is on Montana Ave in Santa Monica, and I’m very much in love with it. It smells nice and creates an overall pleasant atmosphere. I also appreciate that the aesthetician (how many times do I have to spell this?) doesn’t talk too much. We complain about the lack of men in our lives, go through our imaginary travel log, and discuss upcoming holidays. In between, we pause, and it’s absolutely not embarrassing. I feel comfortable with her.
So on this day, I’m laying down on the elevated bed after taking off my shoes. The lady validated the color that I wanted and we went away with our routine. I was starting to relax. I earned this, after all, right?! She asked me if I had been to the Shrine – a silent retreat in Pacific Palisades with a pond, plants, a little fountain, etc. I had. And I wanted to let her know that I absolutely loved it. Pads underneath my lashes, cotton pads on my eye lids, color on my lashes and brows, I wanted to assure her that I liked that one bench by the pond. I intended to say “it’s a nice place to sit and chill”.
You have to know: My brain usually runs off without my mouth, and the latter constantly has to catch up. So I frequently just mush words together in the hopes that in the end, it’ll make sense to the receiver. In this case, it was not a good idea. In all seriousness, I don’t do this on purpose. It really just happens, and I create the most wonderful things. In this case, I gracefully uttered “it’s a great place to shit”.
Now, when you have dye in your eyelashes, it needs to sit there for about 10-15 minutes (depending on the type of dye, I guess) and let it do its job. It burns like a… fire… if you open your eyes even remotely.
With that said, I could not only hear my aesthetician confirm with a snort and attempt to breathe, but I felt my own face turn bright red, and I couldn’t stop laughing. I didn’t even try to justify what I had just said. That’s very disturbing if you can’t see the other person when they’re laughing at/ with you. I didn’t need a place to hide – I had the cotton pads, but I couldn’t stop the tears from running down my freshly beautified face. It burned so much. And the worst part: we had to start all over because my tears and outer restlessness had destroyed her work of art.
Well, if you’re ever in LA, visit the Shrine… it’s a great place to… sit and chill! ;)
Oh, and don’t forget to tip the people who make you look fabulous!!
Day 3 #30DayWritingChallenge : Write about the worst time you’ve ever put your foot in your mouth.