It's official.  I am not now, nor do I ever care to be, a girly girl.  I've spent the last week doing all kinds of girly girl things in preparation for a cruise.  Hair color - check.  Facial - check.  Mani/pedi - check.  Tanning - check.  Yes, I even succumbed to the tanning.  And it was completely out of vanity, I won't even attempt to use the, "I was trying not to burn" excuse.

I've only been in a tanning bed about 3 times in my life, and I hate every minute of it.  I spend the whole time in the bed thinking I can feel the skin cancer beginning it's assault.  The guilt overwhelms me.  I stay out of the sun all summer long, and yet here I am deliberately bombarding myself with UVA and UVB sans sunscreen.  And I'm almost embarrassed to admit why I decided to tan.  Day one of our previous cruise.  Picture time.  We're all smiling, happy, wearing our leis, fruity drink in hand, and my legs are a shade of white I have never seen before on a human being.  I need to wear sunglasses just to look at the picture.  So because of that, I have subjected myself to the possibility of an early death, or maybe some extra premature wrinkles.  At least I waited til the last day of tanning to burn.

I can't say I didn't enjoy the facial and mani/pedi, they just consumed a lot of time.  Time I would have rather spent doing something else.  I am not one to spend a lot of time on my appearance, especially in the morning.  When I'm at work, if I have to be in the hotel lobby at 4:30 am, I get up at 4am.  And that's to leave the room at 4:20.  Some of the flight attendants I work with are amazed by this.  If they have to lobby at 4:30am, they are up by 3am.  That also explains why they always appear perfectly put together, and why my nails are always ragged and I look like I could use some lipstick.

I now have a new respect for the women that walk by me on the street completely polished and put together, looking like they have just spent the day in a spa.  It's because they have.  I used to envy those women, and wonder why I didn't look like them.  Now I realize why I don't look like them.  I just don't want to spend the time or effort it requires.

The most enjoyable part of the week has been my son's reaction to my manicure.  He's probably only seen me wear nail polish about 3 times in his life.  Anywhere we've been for the last 2 days, he asks me to take off my boots and show people my "toe painting."  Maybe I should try to make a little more effort.  But I think after next week I'll be going back to my old ways - plain old ragged nails, pasty white skin, and chapstick.  And that's just fine with me.

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