Sunday Ramblings

THE HOME EDITION!

And my "home" I mean the place I grew up, not like home improvement stuff. You don't want to witness me attempting home improvement projects. It's ugly. And dangerous.

Yesterday people kept spoiling me. Trust me, it was a novelty. First my darling mother booked me an appointment for a facial. Ah, pore extraction at 8am. That'll wake you up. (Warning: Tangent) And don't you love how the aesthetician always lulls you into a false sense of serenity with soothing eye patches and a nap-inducing steam bath before digging a year's worth of earthly grim out of your pores with a spiked torture device? It's always when I'm just about the slip into a dreamy sleepiness when all of a sudden BAM the Gestapo interrogation light comes on and I'm ready to spill nuclear launch codes just for the experience to be over!

But I digress.

Facial completed, skin deliciously smooth and glowy, I had a nail appointment Downtown with Yadi, one of my oldest and bestest friends. The joint is called Polished Lounge and it's equal parts cozy English tea room, nail salon and pretty girl party. Talk about a pampering. You sit in these overstuffed chairs with your feet up on dainty chintz upholstered foot rests between soaks in a warm rose petal-laced footbath with scented bath salts of your choosing. There's a warm shoulder cushion, and warm lotion and candy. That's right, I said candy. Jelly Bellies (my fav), M&Ms, Dum Dums, yogurt-covered raisins and red licorice. Sugar high + buffed, massaged feet = happy Gretchen.

I went with a sparkling pink called "Princesses Rule!" on my fingers and iridescent blue named "Russian Navy" on the toesies. And and I might not have been able to resist the call of these earrings in the little boutique in the front. Despite the horrifically out of focus photo, they are adorable retro cherries. I mean, how the hell was I supposed to leave the place without them??? Recession? What recession? My brain refuses to compute such terms when faced with adorable consumerism.

Wow. Why do my hands look like Giganta in that photo? Um, ew?

And what better way to top off an indulgent day than cocktails at 3pm? Please, come up with one. I DARE YOU.

Yadi introduced me to an amazing little place in the Mission called Beretta with a throwback cocktail menu reminiscent of the Savoy circa 1929. Yadi started out with an Anejo Sour but by round two, she had migrated to my choice, the aptly titled Mother Theresa - a concoction of aged rum, orgeat, cointreau and bitters with the biggest, most perfectly formed ice cubes you've ever seen. Apparently, they flash freeze the ice cubes in a special "dry ice" freezer...so they don't melt as fast in your drink. Now that is the kind of place I want to frequent. Anyone so concerned with the structural integrity of my cocktail deserves my business!

Oh, and they have a fantastic Baba al Rum dessert. Just sayin'.

*yawn* All that pampering and, er, booze made losing a precious hour of sleep less of a brain-fuck. But honestly, how the hell am I supposed to go back to my life after this weekend?

*le sigh*