Most Hated

I can readily admit, I haven't been the best about taking care of myself since sweet Miller Andrew entered our world.  I consider it a special day at work if my hair isn't in a ponytail.  Let's be honest, society students have low expectations for their teachers' clothing and general fashion sense so on a day where I let my hair air dry or...brace yourself... dry and straighten my hair, I probably get no less than 10 "Oh Meeess, you look really nice today."  So, so, so very sad!!


So, the one thing I probably do in the realm of "maintaining my looks" is get my nails done once a month (& the only reason this usually occurs is because I enjoy spending some quality time with the besties).  This is what leads to my trophy winning title of "Most Hated".


Back in January or beginning of February, I met up with some of the besties for a mani/pedi appointment.  I walked in and grabbed a nail color for my toes and went to dip my feet in, close my eyes and catch up with the girls.  The person assigned to my chair sat down in front of me while talking on his ear piece, no big deal.  As we were sitting there visiting he asked me what color I picked for my mani.  I told him I had not chosen one yet...insert mega eye rolling and strike one for Allison Dolan.  I felt bad but since I had planned on doing shellac I thought I should pick it after the pedi...wrongo.  This guy gives amazing leg massages and is really good with hands and feet so I want to stay on his good side...


He starts painting my toenails with my fabulous color choice and next thing I know, he slams the bottles and yells "G%^ D*(* I@!  Why did you pick a bottle that was out of color?!" ...strike two.  Thankfully Steph had one of our favorite colors (OPI: My Private Jet) in her purse and whipped it out to save the day.


As you can guess, I struck out five minutes later when we were then in process of putting shellac on my nails and I committed the cardinal sin...I tried to text Andrew back about what Miller needed to eat for dinner...ruined nail...ruined reputation...close to receiving my trophy.


Fast-forward to last Saturday:


Sarah and I ran up to get a desperately needed, last minute appt.  I feared what I knew was inevitable as I know my luck...low and behold who sits down in front of me...my bestie.  I know he is already cussing me in my head.  I am determined be the perfect client which consequently means I turn into a clumsy mess...
I forget to pick my mani color...AGAIN.
I forget to shave my legs...no words.
When he puts one of my feet back in the water it splashes his shirt and I assume his ear piece...he jumped back like someone had thrown up all over him (I guess it could be worse), his face looked like he had just been forced to drink month-expired milk, I kid you not.
At this point I am thinking there is no way to recover and I just embrace what is occurring...
When its time to sit down for the manicure, he points to a table a quarter of a mile away from my friend...I still go sit by her because it can't get worse...but it does...I knock over his lamp and cause the uv light used for shellac to become unplugged.


This is when I know I have claimed the ultimate title: Most Hated Client.  I have jotted down a couple of thank yous on my cocktail napkin just in case I won and needed an impromptu acceptance speech:


I would like to thank my mom-brain for not being able to put together coherent thoughts and decision-making skills.  I would like to thank my body for not collaborating with my mom-brain on how to behave in a nail salon, I wouldn't be where I am today without you.  I would like to thank the Man Upstairs for having a sense of humor and teaching me not to take things so seriously.  Last but not least I would like to thank my husband and son.  Miller, its past your naptime, you can celebrate with Mommy when I take the drive of shame home and Andrew, you are my world, I love and appreciate all you do and for loving me: ponytail, sweats, unplucked eyebrows and all.

Sidenote:  When I looked up pictures of nail art, I started gagging slightly.  Nothing grosses me out more than super long nails that have gems, food, &/or Sponge Bob Square pants or other cartoons.  My stomach just isn't strong enough for that.


Happy Northwest Arkansas Fashion Week!!


Ali