Of Single Awareness Day

I avoided the malls because i didn't want to throw stones at ugly couples walking hand in hand. But girls getting roses and cards of love declaration were flooding my facebook.

Mental note: next year when i celebrate valentine's day, don't post up pictures of roses that i get. Remember that i was at home eating chips, waiting for that one phone call. 

My colleague got a bouquet of roses delivered to the office. Great, even weirdos get flowers now!

And i DID hope that he'd send me a text.

He didn't and I was unhappy.

So I took action on what was making me unhappy. I blocked him off my whatsapp.

Identify the source, fix the issue, Let go of the rest. 

Don't fret, legions. I am still staying on the course. I'm just closing one window. 

I'm losing control that i once had, i know. My nails are chipping and i didn't bother to go for a manicure. I feel like i'm stuck in a place and I can't seem to move on because there's a wall.

Big, Berlin Wall type with black and white tasteless graffiti. 

Happy Single Awareness Day (S.A.D)! *hugs self*

***

And since it's SAD and i needed a pick-me-up, I treated myself to a manicure.

A few words about manicure. It's stupid to spend coloring that tiny part of your fingers, but i pity the boys who can never feel what it feels to have electric blue nails.

 I can also get little white daisies painted on my nails too, if i feel like it.

***


One weird thing that happened today is, the two main people in my beauty team share the same name.

Janice.

Janice the facial therapist is 40 years old. She's round and honest and her shop smells like the Balinese spa i went to in Bali. There's always a cup of chai tea waiting for me after each facial session. And at her little counter by the door, she'll teach me what products to use for my skin type.

One day she divulged that she married her husband after 13 years. I laughed and snorted.

And apologized, meekly.

On the other hand, Janice the manicurist takes perfect care of my nails. She's barely 20 but she has a 7-month old baby boy. 

"Are you from Penang?" I asked her.

"Yes"

"So where did you go to school?" I asked again. Obviously, i was making conversation. 

"I don't. I don't enjoy studying."

Her answer caught me off guard. I didn't have an answer to that. I mean, i heard college drop outs existed, but high school drop outs? How do you survive in this world without your education?

I looked at her heart-shaped face. You can tell that she's real pretty because she has little make up on.

"My son fell from the bed this morning. Hearing him cry was quite a lot to take." She shared.

I almost blurted out, "That's what you get for not going to school! Dropping your son on the floor so he can grow up stupid!"

But Janice the manicurist taught me to be soft and worry less. She taught me that sometimes when you go against the norm, you will end up where you're supposed to be in the first place.

I like Janice the manicurist, with her indifference in education.

Janice the facial therapist hurts me when she's popping my blackheads. Sometimes while in pain, i thought, why do i keep doing this? Why am i paying you good money for pain?

I think facial should be renamed fate-cial.

It pains you but you just keep coming back for more because it heals you.

****


Every spa should have a warning sign:  Bring Your Own Dildo. Post-Spa Horniness Do Exist.

Because i went on an emotional eating rampage after I came across a valentine message on my ex's FaceBook wall (i know, what was i thinking, right?), Friend from High School took me for a spa session. "Don't worry. We'll be in separate rooms. I know, you can't see my boobies." She joked, while signing us in.

"Shit. I was hoping we could compare cellulite."

A few words about spa. After the massage, the masseuse leaves you... horny. I was sitting in the steam room all by my lonesome, trying to build Bradley Cooper out from hot vapor!

I think you can get high on hot air. The same effect that smoking a joint gives you. I felt like the world left me, and i wished for a McSteamy. As much as I'd like to march over to the phone and order a McSteamy, I had a conversation with myself instead.

I thought of how many couples had made love within these walls.  How many men came here alone but were offered happy endings because well, there is such service. 

While my pores open up, i think my imagination did too.

And then I got angry; from the sexual frustration of not having a McSteamy, and from the extra pounds i have evidently put on. In other words, I had a brief rebound with food. Yes, I swayed from my vegetarian diet and sinned with TGIF burgers, sushi, and subway sandwiches. I had affairs with pizza, so addictive, i couldn't stop. I even told myself that it's OK, because I don't need to impress anyone with a svelte body anymore.

I almost gave up on myself.

So I sat for longer in the steam room, and although i could be mistaken for a pretty prune, i did emerged from the room... satiated.