Apart from the smudges of blood on the bathroom floor and on the Anthropologie bath mat, it was a pretty good day and it all began with a wonderful breakfast ...
While eating a cup of granola with vanilla yogurt this morning, I was reading the latest issue of Real Simple magazine. There was a section on pedicures, and impressionable as I am, I thought this was a great idea for my fugly puglies. So before running to the gym, I made a stop at Walgreens and stocked up on supplies for my at-home pedicure. I got some sugar scrub by Sally Hansen, a pumice stone, and a callous remover.
I felt really excited to get my workout over with so that I could spoil my neglected feet. Somehow I envisioned they’d look like the beautiful feet in the magazine and although the realist in me felt skeptical, I looked forward to the pampering, nonetheless. So I ran home, hopped in the shower, and then rubbed the Sally Hansen “Spa Sugar Scrub” on my rough and tough hobbit feet. You know, it felt soooooo good.
I’ve had one professional pedicure in my life (as a birthday present) but I hardly enjoyed it. I remember feeling so self-conscious about my big feet and projected my feelings onto the woman who was giving me a pedicure. I felt bad for her because she had to handle my homely feet, quite frankly. Anyway, on the back of the Sally Hansen Spa Sugar Scrub tube, it says:
“Treat your feet to a luxurious, moisture-rich blend of naturally exfoliating sugar crystals. Vitamins A, C, E, Pro-Vitamin B5, French Lavender, Olive, and Tea Tree oils. Quick results for baby-soft, revitalized skin.”
I know this sounds commercial corny but it’s all true. My feet felt pampered, the scrub smelled heavenly, and my feet were baby soft even, so much so that I’ve decided to adopt the scrub as part of my weekly regimen. Anyway, after a vigorous scrubbing with the pumice stone, I went on to the next step of stripping my thick calluses.
Once in a while, usually when I’m bored out of my mind, I become obsessed with my calluses. They become so thick and bothersome and such an enemy to my precious socks. So when they thicken, I pinch and pick at them by cutting them off with scissors. I get really into it, too—kinda how I felt about picking scabs as a kid. Doug freaks out when he sees me with scissors in hand picking away at my feet, so he was pleased to hear that I had bought some tools for removing calluses “safely.” I had never heard of callous removal tools, so I was happy to have them as well. The ones I got were two in a pack by Revlon and they looked like miniature cheese graters. I thought, finally, removing callouses will be a cinch! Well, so I thought.
Either the blade was dull or my calluses were simply too powerful to be reckoned with, but nothing happened. I applied pressure and ... nothing. Not a single cell was scraped off. It was as if my calluses were made of titanium. But I kept at it and after a few minutes, paper-thin slices fell on the bathroom tile. It worked even better when I pinched in certain areas for a better grip. It was working ... It took a while, but it was finally working. It was great because it was painless and safe!
Well, so I thought. I guess I dug a little deep beneath my large toe because I began to bleed a little—a mere pin drop. I smudged it off and the blood disappeared and didn’t resurface so I felt it was safe to leave it un-bandaged. I then eagerly switched to my other foot. After several minutes of doing this, I grew tired of my pedicure and abandoned plans of painting my toes. My inner tomboy just said, “Fuck this bullshit.” So I began to do other things.
When I returned to the bathroom twenty minutes later, guess what I found? There was blood smeared all over the floor and all over the most expensive move-in purchase of all, the Anthropologie bath mat! I looked at my left toe and found the culprit. That little gash I made while removing my stubborn toe callous was deeper than I thought. And to think, it didn’t even hurt, not even a little. Well, the bathroom cleaned up pretty well, and thank gawd, the blood on the bath mat washed off with soap and hot water. Phew! Well, no harm done overall. My bloody toe is recovering beneath a bandage and my feet feel soft and tingly all over.