Warning: Girl Talk Ahead
May 31st, 2003 11:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shiredancerGor, I've gone all girly this morning. But that's what a session at the wonderful, pampering, luxurious salon I go to (well, once in a while) does to me -- I come out feeling all beautiful and graceful and feminine and of course not nearly my age (if I don't look *too* closely in the mirror anyway). The guy who does my hair, he's just great -- he lets me sit in silence drinking in the whole experience and breathing deep, and doesn't insist on nattering at me or making me talk about inconsequential things. Some polite pleasantries, and then -- companionable quiet. And somehow he does magical things that make me look (temporarily) quite nice. Things that I can never seem to manage myself, like -- making my hair look decent. Or halfway decent. And then, floating on that girly high, I explore the products section because this place is all organic and no-bunny-testing and natural and even uses scents that I can *handle*, so I come away with little make-up niceties and lavendar eye pillows and brushes that I'll probably never use because I'm not very adept that way. Mmmm, but it feels so *good*. I just won't tell my husband how much I spent because, aghhh, this place is expensive (but it's worth every penny too).
And it's *such* a luscious experience to have someone wash your hair and play with it and do things to it and blow it dry and make it all warm and soft. **Sigh** No wonder sensual hairwashing features in certain lovely and schmoopy slash fanfictions! And speaking of slash, I always bring a printout to read while I'm sitting through the boring waiting-for-the-color to set parts, and I have to surreptitiously make sure no stylists or patrons are able to get a peek at the definitely x-rated stuff I'm reading. Which means of course that I have to keep my libido under control while all that handling and hair-washing and other nice things are going on... ** sigh** And I live in absolute terror, and I'm convinced it will happen some day, that one of these days I'm going to make a grievous error and start talking about blow jobs instead of blow drys... oy. Way too much slash, Sal, way too much.
But meanwhile I *do* feel girly and beautiful and yes, even though I'm quite feisty and very, very... um... tough, yeah, let's see if I can convince anybody of that, so yes, even despite all that I can manage the inner goddess quite well at times and I even might start channeling Martha this afternoon and go look at curtain rod thingies to put up drapes in the living room after *twelve* fecking years of doing without, and *then* I might even whip up something for a potluck bbq this afternoon. My my, entirely too domestic here. Gah, those girly days will getcha.
And not only that!!! I'm feeling very successful at The Dreaded Diet and I am once again below The Line That Must Not Be Crossed On The Scale, so the I-feel-pretty stuff is even more exagerated. Even my daughter said "You look young again!" when I walked in... high praise, very high praise, indeed. Ten-year-olds so value youth. Shallow little things. Heh, yesterday was the end of the year school auction and carnival and it was better fun than usual -- a live band played swing music and I wanted to dance so badly but my husband did not feel quite up to being the only couple dancing. **Sigh** Oh well, I came home with a basket of sushi makings and lovely Japanese pottery, and a wine basket, courtesy of the silent auction, and that was nice. And I did get to dance last week at a folkdance party, so the dance itch has been temporarily scratched and I really can't complain.
Umm. Okay, I'll stop being a pain in the rear and carry on. That, lovies, is all the news that's fit to print.
*ShireDancer waltzes off singing "I Enjoy Being a Girl"... don't worry, it will wear off and make her gag soon...*
*SMOOCH*
And it's *such* a luscious experience to have someone wash your hair and play with it and do things to it and blow it dry and make it all warm and soft. **Sigh** No wonder sensual hairwashing features in certain lovely and schmoopy slash fanfictions! And speaking of slash, I always bring a printout to read while I'm sitting through the boring waiting-for-the-color to set parts, and I have to surreptitiously make sure no stylists or patrons are able to get a peek at the definitely x-rated stuff I'm reading. Which means of course that I have to keep my libido under control while all that handling and hair-washing and other nice things are going on... ** sigh** And I live in absolute terror, and I'm convinced it will happen some day, that one of these days I'm going to make a grievous error and start talking about blow jobs instead of blow drys... oy. Way too much slash, Sal, way too much.
But meanwhile I *do* feel girly and beautiful and yes, even though I'm quite feisty and very, very... um... tough, yeah, let's see if I can convince anybody of that, so yes, even despite all that I can manage the inner goddess quite well at times and I even might start channeling Martha this afternoon and go look at curtain rod thingies to put up drapes in the living room after *twelve* fecking years of doing without, and *then* I might even whip up something for a potluck bbq this afternoon. My my, entirely too domestic here. Gah, those girly days will getcha.
And not only that!!! I'm feeling very successful at The Dreaded Diet and I am once again below The Line That Must Not Be Crossed On The Scale, so the I-feel-pretty stuff is even more exagerated. Even my daughter said "You look young again!" when I walked in... high praise, very high praise, indeed. Ten-year-olds so value youth. Shallow little things. Heh, yesterday was the end of the year school auction and carnival and it was better fun than usual -- a live band played swing music and I wanted to dance so badly but my husband did not feel quite up to being the only couple dancing. **Sigh** Oh well, I came home with a basket of sushi makings and lovely Japanese pottery, and a wine basket, courtesy of the silent auction, and that was nice. And I did get to dance last week at a folkdance party, so the dance itch has been temporarily scratched and I really can't complain.
Umm. Okay, I'll stop being a pain in the rear and carry on. That, lovies, is all the news that's fit to print.
*ShireDancer waltzes off singing "I Enjoy Being a Girl"... don't worry, it will wear off and make her gag soon...*
*SMOOCH*
