I don't know about you but I love me a good makeover. When I'm feeling frumpy, bloated and up to my eyeballs with a bunch of white girl problems (such as finding the perfect wedge shoe for the summer), I know that it's time for a little pick me up. Intuitively, I know just what to do and head over to the "Nice Nail" in the Target strip center.
Side note: I don't understand the name of my nail salon. "Nice Nail"? Do they only want you to have ONE nice nail and the other NINE nails look like you used a highlighter to do paint them? Why don't they say Nice NailS. Plural form- that way I don't go in there and make a fool of myself my asking them to paint my right index finger.
I digress. After I go in and visit Choo, the sweet Vietnamese lady who talks trash about me, my grown out cuticles and stinky feet in her native language to the girl beside me, and get rubbed, yanked, scrubed and filed and asked three times if I want her to paint a flowa on my toe, I get out of there feeling rejuvenated and refreshed.
My blog was acting down in the dumps the other day. She told me she wasn't motivated and that she didn't feel pretty anymore. I think she had gotten in a fight with her boyfriend but I didn't bring it up--you know, salt in the wound people?
Any woo, I knew just the ticket--A MAKEOVER! Doesn't she ooze FAB- U - LOSITY!? She's hotter than a gay man in the mosh pit at a Madonna concert! A special thanks to Mary at Blog Rock for fixing my girl up! You can contact her at email@example.com