Thursday, March 14, 2013

Age Matters?
So my new theory is that the folks at Massimo Pretty Hair in via Garibaldi are doing such a good job covering my grays that my co-workers had the mistaken impression that I was a lot younger than I am. Last night after I had a victory of getting from six to 15 students on a Wednesday night, the curly haired instructor came into the dressing room/broom closet and told me all about her perimenopausal symptoms. She relaxed instantly when I told her that I am less than two years younger than she is. She is almost forty-five and I am forty-three. We kissed and appear to have made up. Weird, right? Also the bikini lady who was very suspicious of me at the photo shoot lent me her black, fancy gym tee shirt and I returned it to her freshly ironed (by F . . I wasn't going to burn a whole in bikini lady's logo tee!) and with a note that had a heart on it. I guess they were worried some twenty something was going to show up and steal their thunder. Well, not to worry because I am equally afraid of the young'uns and we are playing on the same team, my hormonal sisters. Also three sophisticated female clients asked me to personal train them because they think the other teachers are good, but too old. Well, they are about to find out that I am for all intensive purposes as old as the old teachers, so I don't know what's going to happen on that front. Right now I have more acne than wrinkles -- a good thing?? -- and a really good relationship with my colorist and that is going to have to suffice.

This is the better of the two ads they have floating around for my class (because you can't see my beige encased body.)

These are the cutie eight-year-old girls in F's new English class. He said they are awesome.
P.S. We are currently selling our television that was only used once since we moved here for watching Tutti Pazzi per Amore. After two and a half years of not ever watching Italian television since the good shows don't start until 9:30 at night and there are not very many of those, the television police finally found us and sent us a bill for 59 euro. My friend Federica at Massimo Pretty Hair told me not to pay it and to ditch the set. We are selling it to Melissa who can use it for her rental apartment. F made sure to tell me that he hopes I really enjoyed Tutti Pazzi because each episode cost me about 50 euro. But the thing is . . . I did! Now I am in constant paranoia that the television police will inspect the house on the day when things are a mess and I am doing a facial in my underwear. Sigh.

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