Personal maintenance

Nothing much to do with this post, but look at me looking all maintained

Nothing much to do with this post, but look at me looking all maintained

Since arriving in Italy I’ve slowly, slowly slowly, started working through the list of personal maintenance services. There has been a dentist visit (actually two), a haircut and an attempt at underwear shopping (the bra I ended up with is a failure). Yesterday I even managed to avoid a trip to the emergency room at the hospital by doing some at-home first aid to patch a sliced finger. With a little advice from the parents via skype, and moral support from Matt (who also cooked us breakfast (pancakes!), lunch and tea).

Today it was the turn of the beauticians where I went to have my arms and legs waxed for the first time in ten years and only the second time professionally. Too much information? Sorry, Dad. The first wax used was as fluro pink as the beautician’s fingernails, though we quickly switched to fluro green. She had a tattoo on her arm saying, in English, ‘you are stronger than you know’. I took it as a personal message to her clients to ‘take courage!’ Because it hurt! My underarms are still stinging now that I am home. I think this must be one of those times in life where being short is an advantage, as you would have less leg mass overall and surely a faster waxing time. But, I survived. With the added bonus that attention was distracted away from my finger for half an hour and directed everywhere else.

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