Days are zooming by now that I'm a little more busy with dog-work. I'm not complaining. I welcome more business. Bring it on! It's just gonna take me that much longer to update, comment and respond to comments. Ah well, such is Spring!
I haven't been able to afford the luxury of leg waxing on a regular basis - and I need it. So that was my first treat to myself today. I called ahead of time to make sure my favorite waxer was available. "I'm sorry, Minu no longer works here." ::gasp:: I nearly drove off the side of the road. She's been there for like twenty years. I don't even like other waxers. She knows me. I trust her. She knows what to do, where to wax, where not to wax.
It's been two months since I last got my legs waxed. Remember, the morning of the MRI? If you recall, I was so anxious that I over-tipped Minu. I thought I gave her three one-dollar bills. When in fact I gave her two ones and a ten! Apparently enough to set her free.
That means I had to start with someone new today. Not only was she new to me, but she's new to the salon. She was very sweet but she talked me into getting my eyebrows done, promising me she wouldn't burn my skin [the reason I don't get my brows waxed]. What can I say? I'm a sucker for manipulation. I was half naked, on my back, with one leg in the air. She stood over me with a butter knife and hot wax. "Sure, my eyebrows? Anything you say!"
All these years going to this place and I've always left Hunny in the car [or at home]. But it was too hot today. I almost skipped out on the waxing when the owner told me to bring Hunny inside. I can't even tell you how that felt - having peace of mind, knowing Hunny was inside, safe, and resting on the floor below me, exhausted from the dogpark.
Tomorrow's her day at the groomers. It's not her favorite place. But her summer cut is something I look forward to. It's flea season already. Time to get out the Advantage and Frontline. If I don't get a jump on fleas, they get a jump on me. They don't like all people but they sure love me. I don't know what's worse; the bite of a flea or the automatic-trigger slap I give myself when I feel thebite... or when I think I feel the bite.
Off to watch Survivor, now that I'm a fan. I'll try to catch up on comments later. Have a beautiful evening. Peace.