blue artichoke

I'm finally emerging from my Thanksgiving stupor. What a great holiday!

Anyway, I promised the second part of my spa story, and here it is. This counts as a separate entry on the 30 New Things list because, while happening in Mexico, this took place at a spa at a different resort the day after my foot massage. The resort where we stay is part of a cluster of resorts owned by the same company, and we have free access to all of the amenities offered by any of the related resorts. The spa I went to for the foot massage was part of a newer resort, and was very upscale. The "spa" I went to for a pedicure was part of our resort, and resembled an inner-city Mexican hair salon. It was in a basement, down a dark hallway, past what looked like the resort's laundry room. The room was small and cramped with hair salon chairs and chairs for waiting, a far cry from the clean, light and airy spa from the day before.

My pedicurist waved me over to a chair in the corner underneath a wall-mounted tv. She filled a bucket with water and indicated I should put my feet in. After a few minutes, she smacked my knee and pointed to her lap, so I put my wet foot on her lap. She started clipping my nails at an alarming pace. I had just read an article about how you should always cut your toenails straight across and avoid rounding the edges to prevent ingrown toenails. I've endured several ingrown toenails and surgeries, so I was quite concerned when I noticed she was cutting straight down on the nail edges. What could I do, though, she had already done one foot and spoke no English.

Done with the first foot, she set it back into the tub of water and smacked my other knee. When she finished clipping the nails, she took a metal pick and went to town scraping my nails. I have some scar tissue along one side of my big toe from the ingrown toenail fiasco, and she was hellbent on removing that tissue. That's a tender area, and I kept jerking my foot away. She waved over an interpreter who told me I had an ingrown toenail, did I want her to dig it out? I said no, it was scar tissue, not an ingrown toenail, and please tell her to stop jamming metal picks under my nail. Mind you, my pedicurist has not said a word to me this whole time, and barely looked in my direction. She dried off my feet, waved a pumice stone in the general direction of my feet and said, "color." I was disappointed that she didn't take her frustration out on the callouses on my feet; that was the whole reason I wanted a pedicure. I don't like painted toenails (or fingernails either -- too much work to keep looking nice), so I said no. She drizzled a coat of clean polish on my toes and sent me on my way. I felt bad leaving a tip for her, as she did not even deserve a thank you, but I felt bad stiffing her. I think I left something small enough to express my displeasure at the experience. And that, folks, was my very first pedicure. I can't imagine ever going through that ordeal again. I think I'd prefer more ingrown toenail surgeries. In fact, my toe where she kept jabbing the metal scraper did get a little bit infected and tender, but cleared up a few days later.

I only have a few months to complete my list. I'd best get crackin'!

1. Roast a duck

2. Learn to make glass beads

3. Swim in an underground river

4. Sea-Trek

5. Touch a sea turtle

6. Make a chocolate meringue pie

7. Eat collard greens

8. Cirque du Soleil: Ka

9. Make ice cream

10. Eat lunch with a down's syndrome guy

11. Learn to post pictures on my blog

12. Wear shorts, a tank top and a thong on purpose, all day and in public

13. Join a Ladies’ Disc Golf League

14. Begin Muay Thai lessons

15. Visit a Spa and Got a Foot Massage

16. Pedicure

Getting to Know All About You: Tell us about your disastrous pedicure/manicure/spa or salon visit.