I went back to the hair and day spa last night, the first time in about five months...makes ya cringe, doesn't it? Yes, well I was indeed in a sad state of neglect. My maintenance as of late having left much to be desired, my self confidence following suit.

Sitting in the chair, inhaling the hypnotic fragrances of pampering products of the studio, and reconnecting with that crafty Shampoo Girl, it felt good investing some time in me. I didn't feel nearly as guilty with the process as I was expecting to feel...as I felt when I made the appointment. It is hard to explain, I guess. Nothing seemed important after Mom passed away. Everything seemed cheap.



And, last night, as Nick told me that I was beautiful, I began to feel like a part of me decided to live again...I'm sure it all seems very vain, but it isn't. The ever-growing blanket of "I don't care" was beginning to smother me...and there have been days in past months that have frightened me with their themes of "What's the use?" The thing is, I do care...and I've finally admitted so to myself...reconciling myself too, that my mother wouldn't have had it any other way. "If you're not living, you're dead...which is it gonna be?" she'd demand.

I choose life...I choose liking myself...I choose moving forward.

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Just a quick blurb to finish 'er off:

I walked in the studio last night and my stylist welcomed my return with a bear hug. She said, "Here I thought you found another Salon! But, I can see for myself," she continued around a smirk, "that you just stopped going completely."

The girl knows how to flatter! That's why I tip her the big bucks...and I hope she buys something really wonderful with that 29¢.

She saw the package of Pampers lavendar moistened towlette refills laying upon the table and asked from the side of her mouth, "Do you think there's something she's not telling us?" Brenda looked to Debbie in confusion over her question.

I, myself, found the question puzzling. I felt my forehead grow creased. "She always uses those. There's some in the bathroom now," Brenda answered at length.

"Pampers baby wipes," she stated for the benefit of my perplexed gaze.

"Oh, those." Silly Aunt Debbie. Waste lovely, light-sented moistened towelettes on babies? Riiiight.

A teacher was fired because, according to the woman who lost her job, she became pregnant by in vitro fertilization. I snorted to the TV morning show anchor as I passed with my steamy cup of coffee, mimicking, "Damn you for not fornicating! DAMN YOU!"

I passed Brenda as she applied her make up. She added, "What?—Our 16-year old boys weren't good enough!?"