Tuesday, June 12, 2012


I treated myself to a mani/pedi last week. I think the last time I had one was last summer and I remember it mostly because the hand massage was sublime: I almost slipped out of my chair.

It had taken a good month before I felt my running feet were in okay enough condition to present to the poor woman that got stuck dealing with them.  On June 6, 2012,  exactly one month and one day after my first marathon, I went to the salon to get my nails did.

It was nice. A real luxury. The woman working on my feet didn't say a single word to me -- she just let me stare vacuously into an Us Magazine. In between feet and hands, I asked to use the bathroom.  

I saw this when I turned on the light (despite the sign, someone had turned the light off before I got into the bathroom):  

I saw this gem hovering on a shelf about 3 inches above my head while I was sitting on the throne:

And since all good things come in threes, I was reminded to turn off the faucet ALL  THE WAY before I left the 3 foot x 5 foot bathroom to finish up my partial day of beauty:

Does that seem like a shit-ton of signs for one, single-occupant restroom? The only things missing were signs to explain how to wipe properly (front to back!) and how to make the most out of washing my hands.

I'm pretty sure I turned off the lights after I left the bathroom anyway. Too much information for one 3-minute pee.

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