![]() I almost ran out of the salon, which was appropriately named High Maintenance. ![]() "The Nordstrom semiannual sale!" She whined on, "I’m so superficial! It’s my favorite day of the year! Shopping, shopping, shopping!" I was clearly not among my people. ![]() The facial actually sort of sucked the salon receptionist squealed at me, "You know what tomorrow is, don’t you?" And yet I got a facial and full-body wax (yes, even pits). I planned to do my hair myself, winding it up in two buns to anchor my headpiece. This incongruity was only magnified by wedding preparations. I’m like a poodle with fancy sculpted leg puffs and a sh**-stained, matted tail. I get my hair colored but only wash it twice a month and barely brush it. I tweeze my brows yet rarely worry about my armpits. ![]() I wax my legs but then go hairy months at time. I am full of contradictions when it comes to girlie-girlness. ![]()
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