Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

ode to wednesday

Wednesday. 

Most weeks, it’s a joyous day.  It’s the middle of the week.  The downward slide toward the weekend.  But a Wednesday on a vacation week has a different tone—an unpleasant little tone.  And it was a gray day to accentuate the gray tone.  I didn’t want to wake up.  I stayed up too late writing, so I was in no hurry to drag myself out of the bed on this pivotal day of my vacation. 

My daughter had other thoughts in mind. 

Like a drill sergeant, she cracked the proverbial whip until I was up.  I didn’t argue (much) I knew I had to get up.  I had a lot to do.  A visit to the tag office, a few loads of laundry, and most especially, a lunch date with my friends.  My daughter offered to play chauffer for me—a chance to get in driving time now that she has her permit—and naturally she would have to eat with us if she drove. I was on to her plan, but I let her think she was outsmarting me. After much debating on a place to eat, it was decided that we would go for sushi.  Everyone knows I love sushi!

So after a quick shower and an omelet (in my lovely new omelet pan) we were on our way.  I know you’re wondering, so yes…I did make the omelet without setting fire to the house…and yes, it was very tasty.

Yellow Tail is officially my favorite place to eat sushi in Atlanta.  I’ve eaten there four times now, and the food is beyond compare.  Unsurprisingly, we ate the Beaver Rolls, the In and Out Rolls, and topped it all off with the Heavenly Mmm Rolls. I actually managed to eat lunch without losing a single roll in the soy sauce.  This was thanks to my Brazilian friend Vivian who gave me a quick refresher course in chopsticks 101.  For a Brazilian, she’s very good with the Japanese utensils. 

Vivian has it in her head that dragging me to her Brazilian waxing lady would make for a very entertaining blog.  It was her idea to go to the stripper pole aerobics class, and if I must give her credit, it was one of my post popular blogs.  But I don’t know that I am quite up to getting a Brazilian wax after my own disastrous waxing attempt.  In fact, I would say that getting a Brazilian wax rates in the top five of my ten scariest things to do on purpose.  Its right up there with skiing (water or snow), rock climbing (real rocks, not the fake wall kind), bungee jumping, and jumping out of a plane that isn’t on fire.  And honestly, I’d have to think very seriously about jumping out of a plane that WAS on fire, even with a parachute!  There would have to be no possible chance of survival without jumping out, and I would probably have to be just a little drunk.

So getting a Brazilian wax is not on my list of things to do on purpose…at least not today.  I might have to ease into this idea very slowly.  Sort of like the way I get into a swimming pool…one toe at a time.  Instead, I let Vivian coax me to one of those eyebrow threading places today—where they rip the hair out with twisted lengths of thread.  I’ve had my eyebrows waxed, so I wasn’t afraid, and it was probably the best eyebrow grooming I’ve ever had.  But my pants were fixed securely to my body the entire time, and the level of pain involved was slight.  I have yet to be convinced that the same would be true of a bikini wax, let alone the Brazilian variety.  I suppose I could screw up my courage to get an ordinary bikini wax before completely ruling the Brazilian out, but margaritas just may be required!  In the mean time, I may consider something further town my top ten list.  Like drinking milk past the expiration date, or eating fruit off the tree without washing it first.  No crime in starting out small, I always say.  After all, eating sushi used to be on that scary list, and now it’s on my top ten things to do as often as possible. 

I spent an uneventful evening after my exciting eyebrow threading experience, watching movies, and eating pistachios.  They are supposedly the healthiest nuts to eat!

As an unrelated side note, I have decided that the pistachio farmers have factored the shells into the dietary statistics on the package.  I have literally spent an hour trying to get the nuts out of the shells, and I’m certain that struggle has burned almost as many calories as I consumed!  Peanut shells have nothing on pistachios.  You can break a peanut shell by dropping it.  I broke several fingernails and chipped a tooth trying to crack the damn pistachio shells open.  I know I could have gotten a nut cracker—or a hammer—but I was determined to rise up to the challenge.  The sad part is, they are already partially cracked in the bag, and I still fought with them like a cornered raccoon.  But, as they say…nothing worth having comes easy!

Until the next time…I’ll be making a dentist appointment (number six on my top ten scariest list!)

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