Beautifucation

Jill primping my hair

Ayesha

My hands, one foot, and my sister's feet, with drying henna paste.

Three nights before the wedding, the girl I trade services with to get my hair cut came over. She brought her irons and tools, and played with my hair, trying to give me some ideas of a way to fix it on my wedding day.

She said she couldn't come the day of the wedding, so she'd teach me what to do.

Yeah, right.

What she did was really pretty. It was partly up, and partly down, and all pretty and whispy and feminine.

I tried to do it myself the next night, and my tools were just all wrong, and I was not about to go out and buy all new curling irons and gadgets.

I discovered that my wedding day hair was going to be pretty much blah. Oh well. Hopefully, the flower I ordered would turn out OK, and that would make up for not having a nice "up/down do" for the occasion.

And then there were my nails.

Not only did P make my dress for me, and hostess the henna party, she also made an appointment for me to go get my nails done on the day before the wedding. (she did not PAY for my mani/pedi, but she made sure that I had a place to go for one!)

D and I had a full day planned. He'd arrived on Thursday, and we had dinner with my sister and brother in law.

Then, Friday morning, we met with BHD and hobbitt for breakfast, then we went out and got our marriage license, and then we went to my office, so D could meet everyone.

At about 2, I dropped him off at home, and left.
He was picked up later that afternoon by my brother in law, and they did a low key boys' night out with my brother, and best man hobbitt, in tow, and then D spent the night at my sister's house.

I went to P's favorite salon that afternoon, which is way up in the area where she lives (about 40 minutes from where I live), and from there, it was convenient for me to go on to the henna party that evening.

The girls at the salon greeted me, and I was taken to the manicure station by my technician. I asked for a french manicure on the nails I had been growing out for a month in anticipation of the wedding.

I asked her to make the nails soft ovals. There shouldn't be much filing to do, I said. I wanted her to keep them as long as they were.

She grabbed her file and started going.
As if I had not even spoken, she squared the nails off.

By doing that, she filed off nearly all of the growth I had accomplished, but I didn't notice what she was doing until too many of the nails had been ruined.

So I just let her go with the square nails, and I decided to just deal with my nails being much shorter than I'd wanted them for my wedding day. It wasn't like I could make her put them back to how they were when I'd walked in the door!

I was too nervous about the wedding, anyway, to be upset with her for wrecking my month of nail growth!

The color I chose was a very soft lavender, with traditional white tips.

We chatted, and I told her all about how I knew P, and how I met my fiance`, and about the wedding.

Then we went to the pedicure station.

I sat in the big, raised chair, and sank my feet into the scalding hot whirlpool. Oh my god, I thought I was going to die! It was way too hot. I asked her to lower the heat a bit, and she said she did, but I couldn't feel it.

She continued to talk, and another of the girls who works there came and joined us. They talked to eachother, then, for the rest of my pedicure. About the other girl's love life. My technician was obviously distracted.

The matching french pedicure on my toes was uneven and shoddy. She did not work on my callouses, or do the other things that are supposed to happen during a pedicure, and she did not do the lower leg massage. She basically washed my feet, filed the nails, and then applied the lavender and white polish.

AND, then I got to pay $75 for the privilege of having my nails done in a fancy salon!

Yes, $75. The polish was even peeling the day after the wedding!

I will never, and I do mean NEVER, do anything like that again!!

From the salon, I went along up to P's house.
I had changed my glasses, and had put on my sun glasses, putting my regular ones in the case in my car. The sun was starting to set, and it was RIGHT in my eyes as I drove.

I arrived in P's driveway, and when I opened my glasses case, I found that my regular glasses had broken inside the case.
I have frameless glasses, and the stuff that holds the lenses in place, that looks like fishing line, had snapped, and one of the lenses was loose.

This had happened before, in the same case (which the glasses CAME IN), and I had taken the glasses to Lenscrafters, where they came from, and they fixed them in a jiffy, for no charge.

Anyway, I went inside, we called F, who was on her way already, and told her that I would need her to take me out to find a place to get my glasses fixed as soon as she got there. They were still holding together, but I wasn't sure they'd stay that way, and I'd hate to be driving and unable to see.

It was starting to come close to getting dark, and I would not be able to drive with my sun glasses on, nor could I do that to get home.
I also knew that I would not have time on my wedding day to go out somewhere and try to get my regular glasses fixed!!
The glasses HAD to be repaired immediately!

P got out the phone book, and we found that a nearby Target had an optical department.

So, F got there. We unloaded the card table, and left P to wait for the other guests by herself.

F and I got to Target, and we waited a good 15 minutes for the only person working there to notice us. She was a teenager without a clue.

She said she could not fix the glasses, and that all she could offer was a repair kit for free. We took the kit and left.

Back at P's house, we took the phone book out again. Pearle vision. Let's go.

P gave us directions on how to get there. We fought heavy Friday night traffic, and eventually found our way to the place, only to find that it was closed up tight. They'd moved.

There was a sign on the window telling us where they'd moved to. OK THEN! Let's go.

We made our way to the new location. Closed up tight. No sign on this door. Just....closed. No furniture inside, no phone on the counter.

Nothing.

I finally began to swear in earnest, and we headed back to P's, hoping that one of us could figure out how to use the stupid repair kit from Target.

The kit, of course, had no directions! It was just a length of fishing line, and an odd little plastic tool for threading it.

Guests started to arrive at the party, and F tried to fix the glasses, only to ultimately break them all the way.

I had mentioned that the glasses came from Lenscrafters, and people had talked about the situation, but no ideas came along to resolve the situation.

We ate, drank, and enjoyed the party, but I was still worried. The food was from my favorite Middle Eastern restaurant in the area, and the wine was delicious and plentiful.

But still, I fretted.
I knew that I was going to have to have someone drive me home, 40 minutes away, and have someone else follow us, so the friend driving could get brought back, another 40 minutes to get her car! Did anyone know how to drive a stick?

Then, while I was being painted on my hands and feet with thick, fragrant henna paste, an idea popped into my head.

Wasn't there a big shopping mall nearby? Didn't Lenscrafters often have locations in big shopping malls?

P got her phone book out again. BINGO! Two party guests volunteered to go take my glasses to Lenscrafters (which we CALLED to be sure they were OPEN), and to get more WINE!

BHD and my niece were the ones who went, bless them.

While the rest of the henna party went on, they left and were gone for nearly 2 hours.

When they returned in triumph, my glasses were restored, and we had more lovely wine!

Everyone got henna art on at least one hand...but I got to have both hands and both feet, and my fiance`'s initials were hidden in the patterns of my left hand, which was traditional in the part of India where our artist was from.

The paste she used was infused with essential oils, and was very fragrant. When the paste was dry, we were spritzed with sugar water to make things even MORE sticky! Apparently, that helps to set the color.

The pictures above are of the hair styling night, and from the henna party.

I was so grateful for everything that everyone did for me to prepare for the wedding, and to celebrate my happiness!!

I could have gotten very upset about all of the things that went wrong. In fact, I DID get a little upset about all of those things, including the florist being a BEEOTCH....but in the long run, it was all good.

I left henna the party alone, able to drive (and SEE), and I got henna paste all OVER my steering wheel, stick shift, seat, and carpet.

I still find bits of it here and there, and I smile.