Yesterday was one of the best birthdays I've had in recent years. I worked extra hard on Tuesday (and played catch-up today) so I could take the day off from all duties that allow such a thing. Sadly, this did not include laundry, general tidying up, and routine childcare tasks. However, my kids are juuuust old enough that they are starting to understand, "It's mama's birthday today so you need to be on your best behavior."
I pampered myself with 30 whole minutes of pilates in the morning, then got myself over to the campus ladies' salon to spend the gift money from my MIL on my annual pedicure, as well as my first manicure in 11.5 years. It was a glorious and cheap hour, and there is something about salons in Arabia that I just love. The windows are all shuttered, the women go in, the hijabs come off, everyone's chatting in their own dialect, and we see each other in all our raw, unpolished, unplucked, unstyled beauty. I have to confess, though, that having to carry on small talk with the manicurist/pedicurist falls under my personal definition of hell, so I risked offending them (it was two separate people) by reading a book the whole time (The Count of Monte Cristo).
I was lulled by the tender attention to my nails into a curious state of bravery, and decided to get my face threaded. I wrote that sentence in an email to my mom and she replied, "what is 'face threaded'?" as if it were some bizarre unit of language that defied comprehension. I'll tell you what 'face threaded' is: it's where they remove hair from your face using a thread. Really! It's a traditional method of hair removal in the Middle East and although I have marveled at it for years, I have never had it done. And wow, is it painful/amazing. And thorough. And a great cultural experience.
I spent some time in the kitchen making this beauty: Peanut Butter Cup Caramel Shortbread Bars, and the best part is that I only had to make a couple of ingredient substitutions.
Then the kids came home from school and we oohed and aahed together over a few small gifts - a new office chair, an Amazon gift certificate, a pretty bookmark, a spa gift certificate (can you tell living in Dubai has changed me?), and a bag of frozen onions that saved me at dinnertime. The best gift of all was the array of thoughtful emails from old and new friends collected by Jeremy and shared with me. It goes against my nature to just sit down and read nice things people say about me, and I actually put off reading the document for a while. Then I read it once and put it away again. I think I'll revisit it from time to time when I need a little boost to my sense of self. To all those who participated, thank you. I have to say I was surprised and amused at how many people mentioned my singular and ready way of laughing. I do love to laugh, so I'm glad people notice when I do...I guess?
Here's me at age 30, holding the pan of Peanut Butter Cup Caramel Shortbread Bars, minus the portion that I ate ALL BY MYSELF, thank you very much. No makeup, I didn't fix my hair all day, and my garments are hanging out of my shirt. It's as genuine as it gets.
Sometimes the day after a birthday can be a bit of a let down, but I woke up this morning ready to be 30 years old and feeling good about 5 October 2011. It didn't hurt that first thing this morning, a co-worker mistook me for a (freshman!) student as I left my office. Yep, still got it.
I pampered myself with 30 whole minutes of pilates in the morning, then got myself over to the campus ladies' salon to spend the gift money from my MIL on my annual pedicure, as well as my first manicure in 11.5 years. It was a glorious and cheap hour, and there is something about salons in Arabia that I just love. The windows are all shuttered, the women go in, the hijabs come off, everyone's chatting in their own dialect, and we see each other in all our raw, unpolished, unplucked, unstyled beauty. I have to confess, though, that having to carry on small talk with the manicurist/pedicurist falls under my personal definition of hell, so I risked offending them (it was two separate people) by reading a book the whole time (The Count of Monte Cristo).
I was lulled by the tender attention to my nails into a curious state of bravery, and decided to get my face threaded. I wrote that sentence in an email to my mom and she replied, "what is 'face threaded'?" as if it were some bizarre unit of language that defied comprehension. I'll tell you what 'face threaded' is: it's where they remove hair from your face using a thread. Really! It's a traditional method of hair removal in the Middle East and although I have marveled at it for years, I have never had it done. And wow, is it painful/amazing. And thorough. And a great cultural experience.
I spent some time in the kitchen making this beauty: Peanut Butter Cup Caramel Shortbread Bars, and the best part is that I only had to make a couple of ingredient substitutions.
Then the kids came home from school and we oohed and aahed together over a few small gifts - a new office chair, an Amazon gift certificate, a pretty bookmark, a spa gift certificate (can you tell living in Dubai has changed me?), and a bag of frozen onions that saved me at dinnertime. The best gift of all was the array of thoughtful emails from old and new friends collected by Jeremy and shared with me. It goes against my nature to just sit down and read nice things people say about me, and I actually put off reading the document for a while. Then I read it once and put it away again. I think I'll revisit it from time to time when I need a little boost to my sense of self. To all those who participated, thank you. I have to say I was surprised and amused at how many people mentioned my singular and ready way of laughing. I do love to laugh, so I'm glad people notice when I do...I guess?
Sometimes the day after a birthday can be a bit of a let down, but I woke up this morning ready to be 30 years old and feeling good about 5 October 2011. It didn't hurt that first thing this morning, a co-worker mistook me for a (freshman!) student as I left my office. Yep, still got it.