2002-06-11 - 11:44 p.m.
Rocky road. Rocky road. Rocky road in a sugar cone with chocolate sprinkles; that is my weakness. It is so one of those nights where, if I were upstate, I'd like to be at Bumpy's, or a similar ice cream drive-in place. It's humid, but with a breeze so your sweat cools off on the back of your neck. Still, it's the kind of weather that made me want to cut my hair off last year. And damn, it's barely grown back at all yet.
Of course, I did get it cut a little today- my roommate Amber and I went to this spa day thing, a belated birthday present to me. Outcome:
manicure: she didn't make fun of my "retarded" left thumbnail.
massage: had an aura of violation- this meaty European long-haired guy all touching me. I know- a massage consists of touching- but as a general non-spa attendee, I am not used to being touched by strangers.
eyebrow waxing: brought out the masochist in me- hot wax/surprise sting=.. mmm. I'm gross.
facial: having chin zits poked with metal tools comes across as humiliation.
With my hairdo, I look 15 again. Pre- or post-virginity loss? You be the judge.
�
