The Elusive Pedicure
It’s been 8 months since I’ve had a pedicure and I’m pretty torn up about it. I do understand that compared to people with real problems, my lack of pampering is very low on the list. Nonetheless, I stand by my mani/pedi pity party.
So while life in general is not so hard, it is hard to be somewhere where everything is new and different and you miss out on the comforts of home. The difficulty communicating because of the language barrier is probably the hardest thing, but the lack of social outlets is another biggie. I really miss my friends and being able to grab a drink or have a nice brunch on the weekends. But what gets me year after year is my yearning for a nice spa treatment, a pedicure with a good scrub and rub, and the coveted 10-minute massage that can be had at nearly every nail shop in NYC.
I’ve tried to find that out here and I’ve failed miserably. My first attempt a few years ago was pointless and a complete waste of time. After months of neglect I finally found a hair salon that had a section for manicures and pedicures. I had my hopes way up only to have them come crashing down. They literally washed my feet, rubbed them with a brush, put some lotion on, and then painted them with the skill of an 8 year old child. I changed my mind about the accompanying manicure and hightailed it out of there, 40 liras poorer, and disappointed beyond belief.
The next visit a year later was with a few fellow WAGS and was to an actual nail salon in town. Although I was able to get a foot rub, they still didn’t know what was going on. No one spoke English, and they didn’t seem to understand what we wanted, even though it was a nail salon so it was pretty self explanatory why we were there. While we all sat there wanting the same thing, they gave us three different pedicures. They put a sparkly design on one of my friend’s nail, even though she didn’t ask for that and didn’t want it, while the other one didn’t even get soap in her basin and we had to spend 5 minutes figuring out how to ask for ‘bubbles.’ When it came time to pay we were all charged different rates and our nails just looked ok. So that was the last time I went there.
This year I didn’t even bother to search one out for fear of another let down, even though I have yet to even see any kind of nail salon anyway. I’ve resigned myself to my home spa. I buy as many nail care products as possible and once a week I go to work, scrubbing, clipping, filing, and painting so that I can have the illusion of pampering.
Of course it’s not really pampering if you’re doing it yourself, but it’s the end result of having a nice mani/pedi that makes me feel like I’m a put together grown up living in grown up world. If my nails aren’t done, or are all chipped and raggedy looking I almost feel like I might as well wear sweats every day and do yard work or something rugged. When living in a small town like this, even if I have nowhere nice to go and no one to give two craps about my nails, it’s still the one small thing I can do to feel girly.
But the end is near and the count down has begun. We have one month left before we’re back in NY and the first place I’m running to is my friendly neighborhood nail shop. I already have visions about what kind of super luxurious spa pedicure I’ll get, complete with a nice relaxing foot massage. I’ll pick the brightest and most fun color I can find for my nails to show my joy at once again getting a real mani/pedi, and then I’ll get a 10 or 20 minute chair massage while my nails are drying. Best of all I won’t be forced to spend two hours giving my self a mediocre manicure that will only be smudged/dented/chipped two hours later. It really is the little things.