Ninja Attack

Today, thanks to Groupon, I got a diamond peel facial and a mani/pedi for a super low price. I was oh so excited to get there but when I left it got me thinking. Why do Asians love to kick my ass during beauty treatments?

When Josephine was taking the diamond wand to my face I don't think she got the memo that I have nerves there. And the plastic wand, when meeting my ocular bones at a force, hurts. I mean it was like a tiny nunchuck was suctioning and beating my face. After the "diamonding" of my face she told me she was going to massage my face. "Okay," I said excited for some relaxation time. Nope Josephine started out all nicey-nicey but then began slapping my jowels and cheeks. I mean it was totally bizarre and it was hard enough to make loud slapping noises that carried down the hall. For me a massage is the slight pressure-rubbing of my muscles not slappin' a ho.

Then she began to massage my neck and shoulders. I couldn't believe how much strength this lil 70 pound chick had. She had straight-up chimpanzee strength. It seriously felt like a chimpanzee high on pixie sticks had been unleashed on me.  I think she may even have used her feet at some point. Then she cradled my head and whipped me into the seated position. Chimpanzee strength.

Then I got my pedicure. Sammy did my pedicure and she was pretty gentle with me until she pushed up my pant leg and began literally punching my calf. Ummm. What does this have to do with a beauty treatment? I started to think they only reserved this treatment for me. I mean wailing on my leg was not exactly the relaxation move I was looking for. I think I could find anyone to kick the crap out of me for free. And here I am the sucker paying people to get out their aggression on me. Yes my face and nails came out very nice but what the hell kind of torture are these people into? And what is the training like? "Yes and now punch her in her face. Real hard. She likes it, I promise.  She pays big money for it." I suffered less physical harm being near a mosh pit last night than I did today at the "spa". Spa my ass. More like fight club. Maybe that's the missing piece. I am supposed to fight back. Hi-ya.

The Song

Guys/boys/men you will not appreciate this story…I warned you.

Music is a really big part of my life.  I am pretty sure I spend more time listening to music than I do anything else, even sleeping.  I believe that is why I envision meeting the man of my dreams while walking down the street listening to my iPod.  Why walking down the street rather than a show?  I haven’t quite figured out why.   Perhaps my brain thinks it’s more romantic to be approached on the street.  

Anyway I imagine this handsome man to walk up to me while I’m looking rather cute.  By cute I mean I have on an outfit that falls in the middle of my wardrobe.  Nothing too fancy as he would’ve seen the best of me and expect that every time.  But I also do not want to be wearing sweatpants.  No one wants the ultimate romantic scene to occur looking like Rosanne Barr.  Okay back to the scene…He would say “Excuse me, what are you listening to?”

I would then answer “Song ‘X’ by band ‘Y’”.  And this is where I am immediately faced with a problem.  I could answer what I am actually listening to.  My fear is that I could be listening to “Roni” by Bobby Brown.  Don’t get me wrong “Roni” is an amazing song but I don’t see it as “The Song” when I meet Mr. Totally Radical.  So then, if I do happen to be listening to “Roni”, do I lie?  If I do, what song do I pretend to be listening to?  It has to be cool without trying.  Dylan?  Drummer?  Yeasayer?  I haven’t decided but it happened to me today.  

Finally a guy asked me what I was listening to.  I froze.  I was really listening “Gone, Gone Gone” off the Crazy Heart Soundtrack by Colin Farrell.  Which is a pretty great soundtrack but it wasn’t “The Song”.  I decided that since he was just a teenage Starbucks’ Barrista making my soy latte that it didn’t really matter what I answered.  So I told the truth, and he said “Cool”. 

Ultimately the guy of my dreams wouldn’t really be approaching me about music anyway.  He just wouldn’t be able to resist me.  When he invites me out to coffee we discover we have tons in common, or not, and we fall madly in love. 

-Deep Thoughts by Yaya