Get your nails did.

Two weeks ago, my friend, Marianna treated me to my first ever manicure as a birthday present. I think she is trying to give me the hint that it is high time I start acting like a lady. Why haven't I said anything about it until now? Well, it took two full weeks to really process what went down.

We went to Pinky, a cutely named nail place on Southport. We'd been planning this trip for some time now and I'd been worrying about it all along. Things I worried about:
1. Infection. I'm not convinced of the sterility of the tools they use and I really don't need a nail fungus to add to my growing list of fungal infections. Trust me, it's impressive.
2. Cuticle pushing. Creeps. Me. Out. I don't like the idea of people pushing anything back into my skin.
3. Pink. Places that choose a pink color scheme (or name, even if it is a cute play on words) generally freak me out, or at the very least, make me wary.

4. Pedicures. I probably need a pedicure, but I was really nervous about getting roped into a pedicure inadvertently while I was there. I'm just not mentally ready. All those feet. Bleh. I just threw up a little in my mouth just now imagining it.

This is what's going on inside all those pointy toe shoes.

5. Solely non-native English speakers serving me. It just makes me uncomfortable. They probably make great money but I feel uncomfortable getting pampered in a place where not one of the practitioners is local. Don't get me wrong. I love multiculturalism and if there had been an even mix between Asian, White, Black and Latin, I would have loved any one of them to slave over my nails. There was one Latina in the sea of Asians, so that helped my concerns, but still, something seems not right (don't get me started on the idea of a swath of foreigners hunched over attending to the corns on your feet!).

So, I faced these fears and received a very nice manicure. Suki worked on my nails, and man, could this woman file. I picked a lovely shade of white/beige so as to look as natural as possible. One of the "perks" of Pinky's is the "massage" you get while they do your nails. I use the word massage very loosely here because apparently, massage means to be punched by a 101 lbs woman. Literally. I was talking to Marianna when the massage portion started. It began innocently enough. Some gentle rubbing on my hands and forearms that felt very nice. Then, Suki made a fist and started pummeling me. I almost spit in Marianna's face, I wanted to laugh so hard. I could not keep a straight face to save my life. It hurt! Instead I just smiled at Suki. A smile that I hope said, "Oh my, that sure was relaxing" when it probably was saying something closer to "Bitch, I'm about to bruise your face like you just bruised my arm."

"Are you sure you don't want a happy ending?"

I have to say, my nails looked pretty awesome after they were done. I had successfully not bitten them for the three weeks leading up to this endeavor and it paid off. I looked VERY elegant. Actually, they didn't look like my hands at all. Those of you who know me know I have baby hands, but having my nails done really made my hands look more womanly. Or at the very least, pre-teeny. I can't say that I will every get a manicure again (pushing cuticles back DOES hurt) but it was an experience that I needed as a lady and I am grateful to Marianna for holding my hand (figuratively, I just had my nails done, man) through the whole process. Marianna also had a birthday not too too long ago for which I owe her a present. Let's just say her gift receiving trip will be in a whole other arena of things women like to do without men.

I'll give you a hint. It's not baking.