In just about two weeks, I have an appointment with Nick Arrojo! (Note, I did not say at his salon, though that is where I shall be, but with Nick himself!!!) - as I’ve had a hair-crush on him for years, my heart is aflutter and shall be for the weeks to come.

As this will be the most meaningful hair cut of my entire life, I feel that it is almost disrespectful to go there with instructions or photos of what I want. I will leave myself in his famous (and very capable) hands…and return with complete color commentary!

I hope I do not hyperventilate for the next two weeks…I might have a heart attack before our date happens…

As I just got out of the shower (and am currently sitting in a towel as I write this) I shall share a sudsy shower stat!

The average American’s shower lasts 10.4 minutes per day, 72.8 minutes per week, and 63.2 hours or 2.6 days per year!

This factoid is courtesy of Kevin O’Keefe, the author of “The Average American: The Extraordinary Search for the Nation’s Most Ordinary Citizen.”

Considering we spend such a significant amount of time showering, I do not feel guilty for my (ever so slight) current body wash obsession.

I’m currently sampling Softsoap Spa Radiant’s line of body washes and I’m pretty smitten - even more so cause they are totally affordable (under $5, even for the giant size).

Do you recognize this woman???

New York Magazine did an article in the current issue, entitled “How Plastic Surgery Can Give An Older Woman the Face of a Baby”, where they discuss “the new face” - which in this composite above, is actually a mixture of Angelina Jolie, Madonna, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Demi Moore!

The article is actually about a “new face lift”, which these women’s looks are emblematic of - it’s all about plumping up the face like a baby’s instead of the tight, drawn face-lifts and the poufy lips. Now are “big, baby cheeks,” a strong, straight nose, dewy skin and lips that are plumped just so.

I guess that’s one way to grow old “gracefully”.

So, about a month ago, I was at an undisclosed location in central NJ, celebrating “the prom”. It’s a grand tradition where we dress up in our 80s-finest, and rock out to tunes akin to Monster Ballads while enjoying spiked punch. There’s even party favors!

Post-party, silliness (to the tune of beer pong and random jam sessions) tend to occur, but at this most recent one, as the hours grew later, a cluster grew in front of a TV in the corner of the house. They were fascinated, and enthralled, by what appeared on the screen.

It went something like this:

Furthermore, let it be noted that most of the people in this tv-viewing cluster were MEN.

I think the truth is, the Ped Egg is just plain fascinating! Even if you have no need to have smoother feet (which I don’t think these men felt they did), we all have an interest in what seems to be an impossible-to-be-true product.

I mean, in theory, it’s a little gross and looks something like a cheese grater: but it works! In like five minutes, you can remove the mother-of-all-ugly callouses, and if your skin is smooth, it won’t leave a scratch. It’s truly magical. And, you know, I wouldn’t sniff once if a man tried it.

And then, days after the prom, I received an interesting email from, well, Ped Egg! Turn out there was a new version WITH A HANDLE in stores - which just made it all the much better. This makes it even easier to use - the grip means you can make areas that may be hard to reach even more accessible.

It’s still not the most attractive concept (basically, like a grater collects cheese, your dead skin shavings will be inside the egg until you clean it out) - but it’s an easy and quick way to skip a trip to the salon. And we are given away TEN here! To have your chance at one, please tell me your scariest pedicure-related memory. (And this can totally include NEEDING a pedicure!

Deadline to enter is August 15. Good luck!

So, this morning found me forced to take the (very aptly named) F train - a line I used to frequent when I lived in (also aptly named) Gravesend, but have avoided like the plague since moving.

I was en route to a press lunch in the Union Square area of the city, and while from my normal train it would take something like 20 minutes, I was in for an hour-plus trek. Truth be told, I started out the voyage just a little testy.

As I waited…and…waited…and…waited…on the subway platform, I leaned against a pole, and felt something sticky. I immediately jumped back and noticed my arm was COVERED in white paint. Apparently, in this part of “civilization”, they have not yet discovered “Wet Paint” signs.

The train, of course, chose this moment to come, and as I got a seat, I frantically attempted to de-paint myself with tissues and bottled water. In the process, I managed to ruin my manicure and get my BlackBerry case covered as well. Oh, and spill water on the passenger at my left, who gave me a vile stare and moved away.

So far, this morning royally blows.

As I FINALLY reached my destination (there just may have been a change in time zone in the interim), I found a Sephora, and cleansed my body (but not soul) with alcohol pads. Thank God for one reliable friend left in this cold, paint-splattered city of evil.

Never take the F train. Never go to Gravesend. And, above all, try to never steer too far away from a Sephora. Perhaps then my pain shall not be in vain.

Now I require a hug. And a cocktail.

Yesterday I spent the day in a park and the night at a friend’s barbecue. We had a blast - but I woke up today with six mosquito bites! Others had it way worse.

In this season of super duper humidity, it appears we are all meant to be the meat of the insect world. I actually do not have any bitterness about this - it would be hypocritical. I cry and moan when I find bugs in MY home…I cannot complain if i find them in a public park (arguably THEIR home). Still, I’d love to find a way to coexist peacefully. (i.e. I won’t kill them, they won’t eat me.)

So, anyone have any tried-and-true anti-bite tricks of the trade? (Or post-bite relief?) Please share with the class!

Note: This time, no bites were in unmentionable places. It seems I’m dressing more appropriately!

As I have a tentative sushi date tonight, seaweed has crept into my mind. It’s long been how I validate the massive amounts of my disposable income that goes to a single (incredibly awesome) sushi outpost in my area: Said delicious raw fish is wrapped in seaweed. Seaweed is healthy. I am not indulging, but *eating my vegetables*.

Apparently, I can now extend that to *wearing my vegetables* and not in a way that will make people stare at me on the subway.

Yesterday, I returned home from work to see several beautiful gift from Adea, a luxury Italian apparel company, introducing me to their SeaCell line. Seaweed has long been used in spas, and this collection is made from a blend of cotton, elastane and SeaCell, a patented fiber made from seaweed. Natural body moisture helps release seaweed’s nutritional minerals and vitamins, including Vitamin A and E, cartinoid and amino acids to promote skin renewal. In addition, because the fabric contains silver (just like my new pillow!), the porous SeaCell fibers help neutralize odors and wick sweat.

(Side note: Wick is one of my new favorite words.)

PS: Currently pondering how said sushi date (and sushi-restaurant-staff) would react if I wore my seaweed while eating my seaweed.

There’s a certain threading salon I frequent, and recommend highly. Sometimes, I even like to go “undercover” to their training sessions and give their trainees a test run.

At training sessions, new-hires (who are already licensed and often very experienced at other less-exclusive salons) will offer free services in exchange for you donating your time to their required practice hours. Often, one or two senior staff members will be observing closely, giving advice or corrections. It’s fascinating, as a student of things beauty, and also a little scary. (What happens if one day I get the bad student and leave with a single brow?!)

Yesterday, I visited the salon, an incognito appointment planned to be a brow threading model during such a training session, and I instantly knew the plot had gone awry. At the front desk was a salon admin who recognized me from my blog! (It wasn’t fair to assume this wouldn’t happen eventually, after all, I have written about the salon several times.)

I was warmly welcomed, and suddenly the appointment that was a half hour away was moved up. I, did, indeed, have a trainee - but I had her with two senior staff members up her ass (well not literally, but they were super close!), and my 15-minute threading took over a half hour.

Clearly, I was getting sort of special treatment for fear (hope) of me turning around and blogging about it…which is, I have to say, pretty flattering! Truth is, this trainee, like all others I’ve had before, was sweet and listened to my needs, and followed through on my requests. I *almost* was relaxed, when the senior specialist suddenly looked closer. “Tightly trim those brows, look how burly they still are!”

Burly? Can a girl even BE burly? (Surely it must be related to being…burlesque.) I looked it up. “Large and thick of build. Sturdy.”

Lovely. My brows could be linebackers.

I just told my BFF about the exchange, and she’s INSISTING I must have misheard, and it was “curly”…which actually would have been completely valid. In any case, curly or burly, I was apparently much more unruly than I realized. For once, my self-image issues were doing me a favor, it seems.

In the end, she did a beautiful job. And I will be back. (I go so often, I see trainees, senior specialists, and everyone in-between!) But the exchange has given me pause…and I wonder…what other horrible truths about myself am I missing out on??? Am I secretly stocky? bulky? pasty? Someone, please fill me in.

There’s an article on another beauty site that debunks our favorite (and not-so-favorite) beauty myths  - a really interesting concept to explore!

So…what are YOUR favorite myths? And have you yet disproved them?

What was your most memorable lunch hour this week?

Mine just may have been the one I spent with a certain sexy gentleman…

Of course, being he brought the wife along, chances are a love connection ain’t in the cards.

Seduction certainly is, though. (And, really, when Antonio Banderas in the room, can that come as any surprise?)

The reason for our fantastically hot lunch was the launch event of Banderas’s new perfume, Blue Seduction for Women. And while we technically didn’t have lunch together, we did eat in the same room at the same time, and I am almost certain that at one point our eyes met - leading me to feel positively, well, seduced.

More interesting to note is that there is no lie on that label: After the launch, all of us media types got free bottles of Blue Seduction to take home, and I wore the scent for the rest of the day. I shall protect the innocent, but let me just say - it led to a crazy series of unrelated but yet thematic events that are unexplainable if not due to the special nodes of rose and jasmine!

PS: Melanie’s lips? Bigger than ever.