"Will This Make Me Gay?"

Scott and I went out yesterday for pedicures (and a manicure for me). He asked, "does this make me gay?" I told him no.

...of course, the DVD of all of Whitney Houston's music videos playing in the nail salon might.

I still can't get a good read on the whole Scott-gets-his-feet-rubbed thing. I think he liked it. But he wasn't gushing about the experience either. I can't imagine anyone being neutral about a pedicure. Seems like a "love it or hate it" thing to me.

By the way, the title of this picture is "Four Happy Feet on the Man Chair."

You can't really see the color of my toe nails very well in the pic, but my fingernails are the same color. It's totally illegal for work, but I work for two men. I bet I could wear pajama bottoms to work (perhaps not the ones I'm wearing in the picture... they're a little extreme) and they wouldn't say anything. Anyway, it's darker than I generally wear on my fingers, and has a little bit of sparkle to it (like car paint. in fact, I was just thinking I'd love to paint my car this color!). I also got my nails trimmed short, to make the broken one less noticeable.

So that's the story of our "girls day out" or "Scott and Jamie's day of beauty." Which sounds less gay?

On a completely unrelated note, I had a roach dive-bomb my face while I was laying in bed the other night. My immediate response was to jump up, slapping the shit out of my own head, landing on Scott, and then wondering why he wasn't getting up to kill the thing (I had him pinned). We had to trade sides of the bed because I was so freaked out that it had escaped. And then five minutes later, it was crawling up the wall a few feet away from the side I had moved to. But Scott killed it (without a shoe) and I was able to sleep a creepy-crawly-less sleep.

Yep, he's my hero.