I got up this morning and made a conscious effort to blow off exercising. I am sore from the last several days and the impromptu press-to-handstand contest I had with one of my husband’s clients. She is a 51 year old yoga fanatic and I am a 38 year old ex-gymnast who are unfortunately for our muscles, still competitive. We both had my husband spotting us but I will brag and say that I still have great form and pointed toes. Which doesn’t mean anything the next day when you can’t move.

So after I dropped the kids off at school I came home, showered, and went off to the Upscale Mall to have some waxing done by an aesthetician who works for Benefit at Macy’s and go to the Aveda store for mousse. I can’t go back to store brands. This one uses peppermint and the slightest bit of honey (duh, how else would it make my hair sticky?). While there the salesgirl insisted I couldn’t leave the store without a relaxing and transforming massage. My ass. It was a TEASE. Just when I started to relax it was over. No happy ending for me, no ma’am!

Back at Macy’s I wandered around the shoe section wondering when the designers are going to get their acts together and make a cool shoe until my brow girl showed up. I’m sick of ugly shoes. A woman cut in front of me at the counter and sat down so I had to wait, further wrecking my relaxing transformation. It was then I realized my phone, the one I talked on until I passed my favorite platinum and diamond jeweler, was missing. I had to retrace my steps all the way back to the Aveda store hoping it was still there. I was lucky to find it under the table I was sitting at during the now useless massage. I walked back into Macy’s just as the cutter was getting out of the chair and got prettied up.

Funny thing is about Upscale Mall is it is where the finer folks shop. Chanel, Armani, Kors, Chloe, Versace, Tiffany, Bvlgari. I got there early enough that I thought I could sneak in there wearing my best dirtball outfit: black cotton gauchos from last year, a gray t-shirt, a gray cardigan, and burnt brown fake Uggs. No make-up except Viva Glam lip glass from MAC and hair totally disheveled into a ratty ponytail. I figured I’d be out of there before Paris Hilton and the paparazzi showed up. It was the first time I was ever complimented on my appearance in that mall in my life. And I quote:

You are SO CUTE!

Clearly she was a new salesgirl who didn’t yet receive the manual on what to look for in a potential customer.