Friday, April 23, 2010


I have difficulty spending money on myself.

I mean, I have no difficulty spending $58.36 at Target in one day. But that's for green, light green and yellow colanders of different sizes that stack so cutely, B-12 vitamins, two boxes of Zip-Lock gallon bags, a bag of eight black tube socks, bright fuchsia duct tape, and two prescriptions for my husband (who refuses to use the second health insurance which does away with any co-pay because it takes fifteen seconds of additional time to remind the pharmacy to run the 2nd coverage).

But it is almost impossible for me to buy a new pair of shoes (especially since I only wear three pairs - my house slippers, regular old running shoes and my Sunday one-inch heels).

I can buy a top, but only if it's in the 50% off rack -- and is light purple -- and is a v-neck t-shirt in XXL.

Once is a long, long while, I will be seduced in by a mascara advertisement and purchase some lengthier-double-strength-violet-tinted-to-make-the-green-in-your-eyes-pop-whiskey-sours-scent that pretends my eyes will look then exactly like Eva Longoria from Desperate Housewives.
But today I forced myself to get a pedicure.
My feet are normally hidden under at least two pairs of sock, my shoes, and my 35" inseam jeans. But since I am leaving shortly for Oahu (obviously spending money on myself does not include purchasing airline tickets to go see my grandkids), and am certain to be barefoot and/or in sandals for six weeks, I bowed to the inevitable.

And pushed myself into the local mall, walked into the chlorine-saturated air, and sat for twenty minutes with my bare feet in the hands of a tiny little Korean woman.

And it was heaven.