Pedicure Persuasion

When E. and C. gave me recommendations for things to do in Japan, they included getting a manicure on the list. The one & only time I ever got a manicure (it was free, my mom had won it and didn't want it) was on my 21st birthday -- a wintery, snowy day made worse by my dejected and lonely state caused by the weird no-man's land I was inhabiting between Berkeley and Santiago. I chose bright red because at the time I had been listening repeatedly to the U2 song Vertigo and wanted to be like 'the girl with crimson nails' Bono sang about. My nails looked fine but not spectacular, and my memories of that manicure are more about my fragile homesick for Berkeley state of mind than anything else. And since then I've never wanted another manicure. Maybe I worry the manicure will bring all those feelings of that month back and I just don't want to go there? In any event, I returned from Japan without getting a manicure, much to the chagrin of E. and C. who, when I met them for lunch, showed off both their new manicures and pedicures. I gladly admired theirs, but did not feel the urge to get either myself.

Until, L. came to town earlier this month and told me she really wanted a pedicure. I wasn't totally gung-ho but I figured it could be fun, and I wanted L. to be happy. After getting turned away from a few places because they were all booked, we came across a place with a friendly guy outside handing out business cards. It turns out this new salon had just opened, and they were more than happy for L. and me to come in and get pedicures. I'd only ever seen people get pedicures in the movies or on TV, and to my surprise, our experience was exactly like that, if not better.

Everyone at the salon was so nice, from the Asian man and woman who actually did our pedicures to this other man who worked there and brought us water in champagne glasses and chocolates (multiple chocolates in my case). I felt both special and indulged -- a good combination. It was fun getting to talk to L., but we also both read magazines for part of the time which made me think it could be cool going alone too. One of my favourite parts of the whole experience was my mom telling me after I'd gotten home and shown off my new toe nails, that my grandmother (who I died when I was little) wore the exact same colour nail polish (the dark pink in the picture below) as I had chosen. I know that if I'd had the chance to know my grandmother for longer, we'd have gotten along extremely well and though in a way it's a superficial thing, knowing that we liked and chose the same nail polish colour just confirmed that all the more. After all, there were hundreds of colours to choose from and I chose that one.

All in all, I am now completely hooked on pedicures - to the point that I've already begun planning my next one. L. told me that she and her mom and some of their friends get pedicures at the same salon in Dallas every Christmas time, which made me think that getting pedicures in the winter is a fabulous idea. Now I've got something good to look forward to.

Post World Cup Blues

I read an article on Sunday in which one of the organizers of the 2010 World Cup in South Africa said that come Monday (so yesterday) there was going to be a nation-wide case of the post World Cup blues. I totally understood that. It is always so sad when a really great event that has been anticipated for so long is over. I always feel so sad when the Winter Olympics are over, knowing that I have to wait another 4 years before they happen again. Last August when I was in South Africa, people everywhere kept mentioning the 2010 FIFA World Cup. It was really cool to see how 10 months before the whole thing started, everyone was looking forward to it so much. And now it's done...For the last month I regularly watched soccer matches, (or at least checked scores), reminisced a lot about the last World Cup, and had numerous World Cup related conversations. So while I am sure I feel only a fraction of what South Africans feel, I can definitely relate.

I first started to pay attention to/like the World Cup only four years ago, during Germany '06. (Although I went on a school trip to Italy in June 1998 (the World Cup was in France that year), and I remember one evening in Rome there were huge celebrations going on as the Italian team had won one of their games. Rome became a sea of giant Italian flags, honking cars and smiling and exuberant people. I remember my 14 year old self thinking all the celebrations were cool, but the World Cup - and how it could inspire that kind of display - was completely over my head.) L., and her entire family are big soccer/football fans and thanks to her enthusiasm, L., K. and I attended many a game at the Starry Plough in Berkeley in June 2006, primarily cheering on Argentina. We were crushed (absolutely crushed! After the match, we stood outside on the sidewalk in front of the bar trying to cheer ourselves up by acknowledging that in sports there always has to be a winner and a loser) when Germany beat Argentina in penalties in the quarter finals.

This time around, I cheered on Argentina again (although I greatly missed L. and K.!) wearing the Argentina jersey my dad bought me at Winners. Sadly, Germany beat them in the quarter finals...again! It was awful. But even once Argentina was out I still enjoyed watching the other matches, all the way to Spain's victory in the final. I like the World Cup because I think soccer is a cool and fun sport in general, and to watch. And also because I really love the (mostly positive) relationships between team mates, between players and their coaches, and players and the fans. Hugs, high fives, smiles, tears abounded.

What I found most touching of all was the welcome the Argentine National Team received at the airport in Buenos Aires, the day after their loss to Germany. Between 15,000-20,000 fans came out to the airport that evening, singing, waving flags and cheering on the team as the bus moved slowly through the crowd. These fans didn't care that Argentina had lost, they just wanted to cheer on their team. Huge crowds (literally a mass of people and flags) turned out in Montevideo when the Uruguay team came home - you'd think Uruguay had won, not come in 4th. It's difficult not to be inspired by that kind of cheer and good will, and wish it existed all the time. Although I know a big part of what makes the World Cup special is that it only happens every four years; so with that, I already can't wait for Brazil 2014!