Change is Bad, Sometimes

Yesterday was a sad day. It actually was the culmination of more than four weeks of suffering. If you don't want to believe me, then just take a look at my cuticles.

(Definition of cuticle from Wikipedia for the fellas (since I repeatedly have to explain myself when I use this word around my husband): "the strip of dead skin cells at the base and sides of the fingernail". Okay, now that we've cleared that up . . .)

When we arrived back from our vacation to Chile and Argentina, I was really looking forward to my manicure/pedicure. It has pretty much been a weekly habit since moving here and after 12 days of vacation my fingers and toes were ready for a little attention.

The salon I use is just three and a half blocks from our apartment. I walk by it quite regularly. Ever since we got home from vacation, it has been closed. Most days the big metal door they pull down at night has been down. One day a couple weeks ago, the metal door was open and I saw lots of guys in the salon doing some work. I figured they must be remodeling. (Which I thought was strange because they just replaced all the flooring, lighting, and repainted about three months ago.) I hadn't bothered finding another salon during this time. I was patiently awaiting mine to re-open. I'm kind of loyal like that. Well that and they all know my name. And I just finally mastered all their names. And on Wednesdays, I usually had a standing 5:00 appointment. And also on Wednesdays, they had a special promotion and my mani/pedi was only R$10 (US$6.25) - and that's hard to beat!

Yesterday as I was walking home, I noticed a big sign in the window of my salon: "Inauguração". YEA!!! They were open again. A big grand re-opening. Oh, what fun! I couldn't wait to see the girls and see what fabulous things they had done to my salon. I quickly crossed the street and was ready to sling the door open and greet everyone. My toes could feel the impending attention and were so excited. I think my cuticles even breathed a big sigh of relief (I didn't even know that was possible but, I'm telling you, I think it is.)

Just as I was about to make my grand entrance at my salon's grand re-opening, I saw a rack of clothes. And then I realized the sign had been taken off the glass door. My salon was gone. A women's clothing store now stood there in the place where my nails had so carefully been tended to all these months. And that just kind of ruined my day.

As I stare sadly at my unpainted scraggly nails right now (yes, sometimes I look down at the keyboard - my appologies to my eighth grade keyboading teacher), it is obvious I am going to have to find a new salon. <insert heavy sigh> This is my biggest problem right now. Sort of pathetic, isn't it?