A Real Housewife in Orange County

In case you haven’t noticed, I have a very strange life.

I wish I could publicly blog about everything I’d like to, but you’ll just have to trust me –

My life is a lot weirder than I can write about.

Yesterday makes for a good example:

•  I had a morning appointment for a Brazilian bikini wax.  I’ve gone to the same waxing salon for years, but yesterday I had to spread ’em for a new (to me) waxologist.  (Yes, her business card says she’s a waxologist.)  I admit, being with someone different made me feel a little uneasy.  It’s a little disconcerting to say, “Hello, nice to meet you ,” and then assume the naked frog position for a total stranger.  (I was never very good at the bar scene either!)

Trying to put me at ease, New Waxologist (who looked to be about 14 years old) asked me a lot of questions about blogging and photography.  Trying to be polite, I asked her how she became a waxologist, and whether or not she enjoys it.  I couldn’t hold back my laughter when she said in a thoughtful, serious, voice,  “Well, I used to do facials”  right as she waxed my asshole.  In fact, I might have snorted so loud, I scared her.  Then I burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

•  I edited photos for the Knott’s Berry Farm blacksmith.  I made him a private gallery of images.  As I worked,  I kept thinking “I’m editing photos for The Knott’s Berry Farm blacksmith.”  It’s a very ODD thing to be doing, don’t you think?  (Hi Steve!)

Photo:  Steve, the blacksmith

•  I got a pedicure.  The cheap little nail salon I used to go to closed.  I walked into a busy, OC, salon.  I was seated in a massaging chair that vibrated so hard it almost threw me across the room.  Seriously, I was flung out of the chair – it moved THAT much.  (I had to turn it off so I could stay seated!)  Seated next to me, was a woman whose face was all taped up from a face lift.  She looked me straight in the eyes and I started to giggle again.  I couldn’t help it.  Seriously???  I can’t imagine caring about my toes if my face was all carved up like a jack-o-lantern.  (She got bright pink polish with multiple flowers painted on her toenails.)

Seated directly across from me was a different woman whose face was so horrible, I don’t know if I can describe it.  I just wanted to get up and go over to her and scrunch her face back the way it should be.  She apparently had decided to have a “half” face lift … her forehead/brow area was taut.  (Imagine a too-tight ponytail!)  The rest of her face sagged horribly in comparison.  Her eyebrows were way TOO high.  Botox was somehow, inappropriately, used also.  It was a terrible sight.  I think I need bleach for my eyes, just to make the image go away.

I’m surrounded by absurdity.

•  Another woman in the nail salon had (what looked to be) a Menopausal Meltdown while getting her nails done.  You know … sudden mood swing, irritable beyond any legitimate reason, bitching out the person who was being perfectly nice to her.  I wanted to videotape it with my iPhone because it was fascinating to watch the rapid mood swing.  (I was afraid she’d hit me if I tried!)

•  I finalized arrangements for today.  I’m in L.A. again.  (Details as to what I’m doing – coming soon.)  I’m really looking forward to my today.  Looking forward to what I’m doing in L.A., doesn’t change the fact I hate the drive back and forth to L.A. with a passion.  This trip was a little unexpected, as was last week’s.  (I’ll be up in L.A. for three days next week too!)   L.A. traffic sucks!

•  I signed up to go to a photography conference in San Francisco.  (Details are here.)   I emailed my husband and wrote:

Whoops – I accidentally committed to being in SF for a huge photography event.
Don’t get mad – it’s huge and I HAVE to be there!

Briefcase replied:

how can you accidently commit?
when is it?

•  Don’t you wish you were married to me?

•  Unrelated (ahem!), I get dating spam on a daily basis.  Yesterday’s spam included Pictures of Single Christians, a suggestion I join Marry-Me-Sugar-Daddy, an invitation to go to a Black Singles Party,  an invitation to an Asian Singles Event, an offer for Millionaire Dates, and a notice about a Swinger’s Party.

Sheesh!  Spammers – make up your mind!!  (I blame one of the BlogHer parties I attended last summer.  I think the party was sponsored by Match.com – the spam will NOT stop!)

•  Think of me today as I fight hours and hours of traffic.  I’ll most likely alternate swearing at the unfathomable traffic and singing my lungs out.  I promise not to take a single flower photo while in L.A. today.  For those of you who crave the flower shots (and a lot of people do), here you go:

 Photo:  Yellow Flower

P.S.  I’ve been invited to a “VIP” spa night of “relaxation and rejuvenation” this evening.  My camera has been invited too – stay tuned!

3 Responses to “A Real Housewife in Orange County”

  1. Gaelyn

    I can’t imagine a waxing of any kind. I have hair. Was born with it. Not even any shaving. Have fun in LA (minus traffic BS) and SF.

  2. Anne

    Times change. When I was young and having babies they shaved the pubic area when the baby was being born. I felt mortified and naked without my neat little patch of jet black curly pubic hair. I couldn’t wait for it to grow back (while my tummy shrank).

  3. Judi

    Absolutely do not envy the drive to LA, it’s always torture.

    If it’s the spa event I’m thinking of, you’ll get some yummy cupcakes from Kristin, too. Lucky you!


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