This nest makes me so happy. It is located in a small pine tree right next to our front steps. Sitting out there the other day, I could tell that the mama robin who was staring me down and having a chirping tantrum must have had a nest nearby, but I didn't realize I was about two feet away from it. Now I feel sort of bad about stressing her out---just what an expecting mom needs. I'm so hoping the eggs hatch (Do eggs hatch or birds hatch?) before we go but I'm doubtful it'll happen. (Still, I'm readying myself to throw down with the crows should they go after the baby birds.)
I just looked at the weather forecast in London and experienced a moment of horror when I read that it was currently 17 degrees. Myopic American that I am, it took me a moment to realize it was the Celsius scale. (That's about 62 degrees Fahrenheit---there's a hard word to spell---so it's about the same as it is here today.) But, and I kid you not, they are forecasting sun for the next three days and rain for Sunday, our first full day there. Fitting.
Today someone said to me about the rain: "I did depressed. I did tired. Now I'm just angry."
Ditto.
I had this kind of morning today: I got on the road at 9:23am for a 9:45 appointment (that was a half hour away---do the math, I was scrambling) and because I was on the phone setting up another appointment for 1:45, I missed my exit. When I got off at the next exit to turn around, I proceeded to get back on the highway but in the wrong direction, taking me further away from the exit I was supposed to have taken. The clock said I had 10 minutes to get to my appointment, which was now 40 minutes away, so I called to reschedule but the only time they could get me in was at 1:45. I took the appointment and then had to call back the other place to reschedule that appointment. A model of efficiency, I am.
The appointments? An eye brow waxing followed by an airbrush spray tan. (I am sooo busy and important.) It can't be done the other way around for obvious reasons. I have a crush on the girl who does my eyebrows. She is the sweetest thing and so gently says, "You have really expressive eyebrows," in order to alert me to the fact that if I don't shut the eff up, I may end up with only one eyebrow. After my waxing (oh my god, I'm a woman---'after my waxing'---ha!) she puts a magic wand where there once was hair so that unfortunate post-wax zits don't crop up. It's shaped like a really thin curling iron but it's clear with some sort of electric current going through it like those big plasma globes at science museums where the colored strands of light follow your finger tips. The magic wand hurts but it works.
The airbrush spray tan, well that's an entirely different experience. If you're not familiar with the process, it's just like you would imagine; a woman with an airbrush gun spraying you down---head to ass to toe---with pigment you didn't earn sitting poolside. I swear by it. The slogan should be "10 minutes to better self esteem."
I could go through this process detail by agonizing detail---and probably will here some day---but suffice it to say that these airbrush tanning specialists know me intimately. Screw it, that simply does not 'suffice.' I pride myself on being slightly more honest than that on this topic, especially because whenever I tell people about the process, they are really curious. (And I tell everyone because A) I'm an oversharer and B) I think it would be a bit silly to think people would buy the whole redhead with olive skin thing.) Mostly, they just want to know if I go in there naaaaaaaaked and if a woman is actually mere inches away from my pasty skin examining my inner thigh to be sure the spray went on evenly.
I do.
She is.
Well, I wear drawers (I hate the word 'panties')because I just don't think that particular, um, area needs a tan. (Some people do and I totally get it. Once you see yourself tanned to your highest potential, you never want to see your own white skin again.) But I do wear a thong---this sort of sharing is comfortable, isn't it?---because when I turn around in front of the mirror to see if my ass looks big, I'd rather it be tanned, thank you very much. I also don't wear a bra or bikini top. (Again, some people do and that's fine, too.) I don't know how I, a sometimes achingly modest person when it comes to nudity (as evidenced by this entry), came to be comfortable with the idea of standing in front of another person with only a pair of thong underwear on, but I imagine it's something like how a person becomes a heroin addict. They never thought they'd be up for having a needle in their arm necessarily, but the high is worth it. That's how I feel about spray tanning. Even if I knew that it would take years off of my life (it won't...but the sun will) I would still do it. (The solution is "99% natural based" and has something like beet juice in it for color---crazy stuff.)
Having a relationship (not like the crush I have on my eyebrow waxer or that would be weird) with the technician is helpful, but not necessary. I've had strangers, I've had friends, I've had strangers who became friends. I'm a semi-regular at my current place (I love them! One time they airbrushed "definition" onto my arms!) but I've tried this at about five different spots and once you realize that these people have been looking at naked chicks all day, you feel a little less self conscious. (Plus, you'll also feel less self conscious out in the world of bathing suits. As my sister Tara says, "You can scare one person or you can scare the beach.") The woman who does me now actually has me lean over---God bless her---so that I don't get "smiley faces" of pale skin underneath my cheeks...you dig? (I imagine women with larger breasts than I have to do a little lift-and-hold maneuver.) Other than that, you just have to "turn to the side...lift your arm...and point your knee out."
(For the claustrophobes out there, you should be warned that the whole thing usually takes place in a teeny tiny room. Once, I actually almost fainted and had to sit down in the middle of the process while the poor woman doing the job got me a glass of water. It was my nightmare given the near-nakedness of the situation. Imagine if I had gone down and I was just a naked heap at this lady's feet? It gave me such a scare that I am sure to eat and hydrate before I go. It's one thing to faint, it's another thing to be all Marilyn Monroe about it.)
After you're out of there (you'll need to dry for a bit) you cannot get wet for at least 8-10 hours; no showering, no exercise that will make you sweat, etc. I'm ridiculous on this point. I had to play lifeguard at the pool for my niece after my last appointment and established a five foot perimeter around myself that she and her dripping friend could not enter. Today I was like Michael Jackson (RIP) walking around everywhere with my umbrella even when it wasn't raining (for that whole two minutes). It will streak a bit if you get wet or sweat. It's not the worst thing in the world and can sometimes be corrected with a little tan-in-a-can from the drug store or a bit of bronzer. I also recommend drinking from a bottle versus a glass if you want to avoid a white ring around your mouth. I usually overnight it and shower the next day. Then it's all about moisturizing to make it last. Sometimes I use a tinted moisturizer but I'm a professional. Usually I get 7-10 days of solid tan out of the deal.
I really can't overstate how much I love this particular advance in technology. I never thought I would live to see a tan thigh. My days of sun worshipping are over, I've never felt good about a tanning bed (I feel like I would be lying in someone else's ass sweat), and I'm told the spray tan booths give an uneven appearance. I had resigned myself to a life of dry, white skin and am over the friggin' moon to once again have a tan line. (Another pro of wearing undies.) It's a must-do before all vacations these days.
How the heck did this become a step by step guide to spray tans? I can't believe this post started out about my sweet little robin and her tiny blue eggs. Where did things go awry? How many times did I say the word ass? Why am I not packing right now?
And that answers that; I'm procrastinating. I didn't even see it until now. I tricked me!
Back to the grind. Two more days full days and then we're off. I wonder what part of London we'll visit first. I wonder where we'll eat. I wonder if they do airbrush spray tanning over there.
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