Pink Fingers, Purple Toes, and Curly Hair

I had the opportunity to come home for a couple weeks to visit with my parents. I hated to leave Mike on his own during finals. I've missed spoiling him probably as much as he has missed eating good meals and not having to do the dishes afterward. But, he's a big boy, and as he's managed just fine on his own. He's finishing up his last final as I type, and I understand that there is to be class-wide whoops of joy and bar-hopping in celebration of their completed second quarter.

While Mike was studying the intricacies of corporate finance, I had a beauty day. My mom and I went Monday morning to get our nails done. While I was working in DC, the occasional pedicure was a treat for my aching feet that were stuck in heels all day. Since I don't have a job, getting my nails done has been a luxury that has gone by the wayside, substituted by home paint jobs. So I relished the time in the massage chair, closed my eyes as my calves, feet, arms, and hands were massaged, and picked the brightest most awesome (read: obnoxious) colors for my nails. That afternoon I headed to the hair salon. Two and a half hours later I emerged with a new cut and new curls. I smelled like a chemical plant, but I looked good.