Welcome to the Buffet

What is this thing called cuteness?

And what's with all the girlie stuff?

This isn't us, is it? Deirdre and I aren't really girlie girls, are we? And yet, we have found ourselves for the last month or so, several times, sitting in a chair, having people literally wait on us hand and foot. We've arrived for our appointments, carefully, painfully poured over endless bottles of shiny lacquer to secure the specific bottle that will bring our toes to an unsurpassed level of cuteness, sat down and luxuriated in hand massages and foot massages and (in my case) callus removal which required corrosive liquid and a power tool. This indicates a true dedication to being girlie that cannot be accidental. We've watched with fascination as people who can only be called "toe artists" slaved over our toes and painted little flowers on them and glued little rhinestones on them strategically.

Then we spend the next several weeks trying not to bump into things, because we're so captivated by the resultant toe cuteness, we cannot bear to take our eyes off of our toes.

And yet... we aren't really girlie girls. So why are we doing these crazy things? Maybe its because we aren't girlie girls. Maybe at some point, a girl just has to be girlie, regardless of her belief in feminist ideals, despite her rejection of patriarchal oppression and all that it upholds, and in direct opposition to her belief that beauty is only skin deep and in the eye of the beholder and that pretty is as pretty does.

Here, on these pages, Pretty is as Pretty looks. Pretty went and got its toe nails all done up. Pretty is looking pretty damn good. Pretty now sports a serious case of cuteness.

On behalf of Deirdre and myself, welcome to the Buffet, where Pretty rules -- and makes no apologies.

~C~