Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Material Girl

It's ridiculous how spoiled I am.

I got my hair cut and permed today. Amazing results. (Think updated Pat Benatar. Okay, bad example. More like, Jean Shrimpton crossed with Sarah Jessica Parker in season five of SATC. No, no, still not warm enough. Okay. Perfectly coiffed rock vixen with loose tendrils reminiscent of a just-ravaged de Milo). Of course, the three-digit bill nearly sent the Mrs. into sudden cardiac arrest. Apparently, of all the places I decided to park my caboose, I picked one notorious for their international celebrity clientele ("My friend just did Jennifer Lopez in Miami"). Oh, those Hong Kong elitists ...

"Lily!" she stammered. "Why you no ask price always?!" The receptionist looked on wearily. She's encountered this before, I reckoned. Yet her upper-body still stiffened as if torn between her inbred instincts to fight or flight at the first sight of malignant matrons.

My head sunk into my deflated shoulders. "I'm really sorry," I kept repeating. "I didn't know." The feeling subsided soon after the salon door closed behind us and my mom's solemn facade broke into a mischievous giggle. She's elevated public embarrassment to an art, like admitted neo-cons and collagen abusers. It was a schtick, I say. An opportunity to air her grievances about me to strangers as she approached the register at a snail's pace:

"Leelee aw-ways waste so much money. Spen', spen', spen' every day. Aye yah!"

So it was a schtick!

Without detailing my day any further (due to risk of consumerism overload), I will say my mom splurged me to the nth-degree during our time together this evening. (It's the first-baby-has-flown-the-coop blues). I feel like the runner-up on the Price Is Right. You know, the one with the better showcase because really, who needs a dining room table and silverware set along with the box of Kraft dinner cunningly used for mojo-sabotaging purposes? ("And you're over ... by a dollar. Thanks for playing. Be sure to spray and neuter your pets.")


Drag race. Minivan vs. public transportation. Mom vs. confused bus driver. Green light means go ... Bitch.

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