Friday, December 9, 2011

Tomboy Goes To Beauty School

So my friend texts me at work this morning and tells me that her friend, who works at a well known Beauty school here in New Orleans has invited us for facials and all of that stuff. I was kind of nonplused about this because I am a huge tomboy. For me, a clean pair of jeans and a shirt without Turmeric stains on it is good enough for anything I'm likely to encounter in my life. I do have long hair but I either wear it long or pull it back. I don't own any of that girl paint, or anything, and I've never had a facial in my life. Naturally I thought I should have the experience so I could know what all of the fuss was about.

We arrived and I had my nails done. I picked out dark purple polish and Kayla got right to work on my nails. Holding still for that was so, so hard. My hands are the world to me, and I know it probably seems obvious that it's this way for a deafblind person, I never really realized how disconnected with the world I become when I can not use my hands at will. I can't text or read, or talk, or listen, or reach down to pet my dog. It was very strange. I guess it helped me be mindful in the moment of having them done because I couldn't do anything else but relax and kind of space off into my own world.

Next was the facial. Only it was more like neck/shoulders/face. Complete with the wearing of these robe things which was awkward, and kind of cold. I laid in a bed and a lady did things to my face. And if I thought I was disconnected from the world when my nails were being done, it was nothing compared to how I felt up in a high bed, without even my feet touching. It was so bizarre.

First, the lady doing my face asked me a bunch of questions. It is during times like these when I wished to please have the multiple choice version of the test life throws you
It went something like this.
Face lady: "How does your skin feel today?"
Me: "well, I mean... it feels like skin, and I can't really say that my skin feels different from day-to-day; it's just... skin, and stuff."
F L: "Well is it dry? oily? a combination of both?"
Me: "uhh? I mean... It is just how it is. I don't have any idea."
F L: "What products do you use to clean your face?"
Me: *thinks to self that dog spit is not the answer they're looking for. *
"Well, water? soap?... yeah, soap and water 'bout covers it."

So after the questioning was over, the greasing and massage and stuff began.
I had this stuff sprayed on my face, and then removed. Rinse, repeat. At one point she wanted to do the same thing to my feet, but I put my foot down. Ok, ok, that was a bad line but I really did. No feet facialing for me, thankyouvery much. I did get a hand and arm massage.

She put this cream on me with a sort of brush thing. I told her that I felt like a giant cake someone was frosting. Then she and another lady put a lamp over my face and studied it which made me feel like a science experiment, and Inwardly apologized to all of the bacterium I ever put under a hot light.

Laveau watched everything and couldn't wait for me to get out of the bed. Eventually I was done and my face smelled like a veritable botanical cornucopia with mint, lavander, citrus, rose water, and at least five other herbs were used on my face.
And it's still the same as it always was. It was an interesting experience to have, though, that was for sure!

I think I'm probably going to trot into the great blue beyond singing the song about being a "beauty school drop-out."

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