Translations at the Nail Salon

I like to zone out when I’m getting my mani pedis. This is my weekly routine. I walk inside the nail salon with my iPod in full blast. In my opinion, this is the best nail salon in my area. The owner greets me. She is Vietnamese. All of the ladies working there are Vietnamese. The owner says something (I don’t hear it), but I smile and wait for Peggy my manicurist. When I see Peggy she smiles and says something (I don’t hear it), and I follow her to her station. As I’m following the petite Peggy I accidentally bump into a not so petite grumpy looking manicurist who looks like she just sucked on a lemon. I say excuse me, but she says nothing. I get to Peggy’s station. I sit, close my eyes, and zone to the music as I feel the pulsing of warm water tickling my toes while Peggy begins on my right hand. This is my time for solitude; no one else exists.

Then my iPod shuts down. The battery is dead. I take off the earphones with my free hand and a cacophony of voices replace Read more of this post

The Art of Aging Gracefully

Rotting Aging isn’t a bad thing. There are perks in getting older such as wisdom, AARP membership and young folks believing what you say because they think you’ve been there and done that. Getting older isn’t a negative thing at all. So it’s important to age with grace. Here’s how: Read more of this post


Ah, the beauty of youth is wasted on the youth. It was certainly wasted on me when I roamed the earth stuffing everything I could get my hands on inside my mouth thinking that I could live like a glutton forever and keep an effortlessly thin body. It was certainly wasted on me when I went around braless and thought that my breasts would remain taut and perky forever. Why is it that beauty is only represented by the young and thin? Why is it that beauty is only shown through the unearned perfection of youth?

It’s ironic that I never really thought about my looks or weight until I noticed the signs of “gravitage.” For me this was an overnight revelation. I wasn’t prepared. One day I was thin and perky and the next I was dumpy and slumpy.

Yes gravity and age are synonymous with death and taxes. It’s inevitable. It permeates our physical world and drives us insane. But imagine a world without the Vogues and Elles and the InStyles … can you? Considering the amount of magazines I have on my kitchen table, the answer to that would be no. I too have been captivated by the propaganda. I’ve spent too many dollars on beauty products. diets and exercise equipment whose powers can’t possibly fight against the natural law of “gravitage.”

So, I’m fighting back! I refuse to be dumpy and slumpy. From now on I see myself as a goddess of “volumptuousness” fit to be revered by a man who appreciates the enhanced beauty of maturity. There are men out there who like a little cushion in the rump. It’s comforting spooning with something soft by your side instead of a skeletal waif that only eats salad without dressing. It’s more fun to be with a body that’s alive in the pendulous movements of parts meant to be adored with kisses and caresses. And we are meant to be adored ladies …

Beautifully yours,


© 2011 Lafemmeroar

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