Surprise Facial - no sperm involved... sorry!

I've just returned from a deliciously fabulous facial.  Devine!

Back in the day, in the months prior to our wedding, I'd go to see my favourite girls at Michaela's in Brunswick Heads for a weekly facial and AHA peel.  I loved it!  So relaxing... and I felt like I glowed after - well, I kind of did (with all the moisture put on my face). 

This was when Micko was working on the highway upgrade and was bringing in the big biccies.  We'd gorge ourselves on treats... like facials (well I did anyway) good wine, oysters and yellowfin tuna, and eat out once a week.  I felt like a queen back then.  I can vividly remember the feeling....

...and I can feel it returning.

This isn't because of our financial situation... but because I'm really starting to feel good about myself.  I'm getting back into running on the beach for an hour 3 days a week and putting in at least 3 sessions at the gym.  I'd lightened up substantially because I wanted to be okay whether I worked out.. or I didn't.  I wanted to stop beating myself up... which I think I'm really getting the hang of lately.

Anyradfacial... I wanted to share a fucking hilarious tale of my last facial.  I think I may have blogged on it at the time, but I definitely didn't share all that happened.

I booked in... first time in about 3 and a half years.  I'd seen this woman before to have my eyebrows done and she wasn't too bad, so I thought I'd give her facial a go. 

The facial went for well over 3 hours... yes... 3 FUCKING HOURS! 

While this may sound like the ultimate facial at this point... let me assure you it wasn't.

Now, the woman is a lovely person.  She constantly calls me 'beautiful girl'... in fact, she pretty much ends every sentence with 'my beautiful girl' or 'gorgeous girl'.  This would be okay.. if not endearing in most circumstances... but this woman does. not. shut. up! 

For 3 excrutiating hours I lay looking up at her really trashy roof art collage (I'm not quite sure what she was thinking when she pinned that thing to the roof.  It had to have been during the mid nineties at the very least) while she spoke barely stopping to take a breath! 

All of a sudden I heard her kind of sniffling... I thought she must have been coming down with a cold or something. Then, I felt drops of water on my face.  Tears?  Yes... Tears.  She was crying!

Now, I'm not being a nasty arsehole bitch here... Hell, I'm working my way through depression and anxiety, so I'm no stranger to crying at inopportune moments... lets face it, I've become quite accustomed to it of late.  

However, I paid good money... and I mean good money... for an experience that should have been relaxing and totally enjoyable.  Instead... I'm lying on a fucking table, looking at some trashy homemade art work, for over 3 hours, while my beautician talks incessantly and cries on me.  Oh and she at one stage pissed off to the post office for 20 minutes while I had a mask on.

Good news is... today was completely the opposite!  New beautician... who has a general rule of no talking during the facial, a lovely clean and inviting workplace and not a single tear shed (except from me when she was extracting my gross blackheads). 

I'll be treating myself once every 6 weeks... after all, I totally deserve it - perhaps not the pain element of extractions.. but the rest, fo shiz!