New newness! Facials, books, shoes, and more...

New experience: Getting a facial

This weekend, I got my first real facial (the qualifier is necessary because I had a "mini facial" on a cruise a few years ago, but the real deal is different--way different). Getting a facial seemed like an indulgent, pamper-iffic activity. But let me warn you, if you're looking to be pampered, a facial might not be for you.

It started out like a normal spa experience (not that I am a regular spa-goer, but it started as I expected). I was given a robe-like garment to put on, and I reclined on a heated bed under a sheet and blanket (the heated bed was awesome--can you buy them...). Then the esthetician came back and used a few potions to clean my face, and then she covered my eyes and turned on a bright light. That's when I started to wonder if I was in for the princess treatment I had been expecting.

"Your face is in great shape considering you've never had a facial," she said. I said thank you, to myself, on behalf of my prescription Retin-A, which is apparently doing its job--it doesn't hurt that it's the best non-surgical wrinkle cream you can get. "However," she continued, "We're going to have to do some extractions."

Extractions?! Yes, boys and girls, extractions are the dark side of facials, the part that no one talks about. There's nothing pamper-iffic about someone else pinching and squeezing your pores under the brightest light you've ever seen. When tears start running out of your eyes and you let out a squeal of pain, expect something along the lines of, "Oh, sorry, but that was a stubborn one!"

After the torture was over, the rest of the experience was positive, until the end, when the esthetician and I got into a tense argument over my facial cleanser. I use Neutrogena cleansing bars (the brown, glycerine-y ones), which my dermatologist--who, incidentally, went to medical school--recommended. However, the esthetician argued in earnest that his recommendation was wrong, and the bars were doing nothing good for me and might even be the cause of skin irritation. Does an esthetician know more about skin than a dermatologist? Unlikely, but I took a chance and bought some of their overpriced skin products and will report if I notice a difference. Otherwise, I'm sticking with buying my beauty products at Target.

New book: Laughter of Dead Kings, by Elizabeth Peters.

Elizabeth Peters, one of my favorite authors, has in recent years focussed on two series, one about a Victorian-era female Egyptologist and another about a modern-day 5'11'' medieval art historian. The heroines are spunky and memorable, and their leading men are dashing. This book promises to tie the two series together, and I cannot wait to read it. I've pre-ordered from Amazon and intend to take the book with me to Italy, if I can wait that long to read it. To keep me entertained in the meanwhile, I'm re-reading other books in the series. If you haven't read any of these books, you must start at the beginning of each series--Amelia (Egyptologist) has close to 20 books in her series, and this recent book is Vicky's (art historian) sixth and final. You will be thankful that you have so many to read once you get started.

New shoes: Bramble by Naot

I learned about Naot shoes from a shoe email that I receive and decided to give them a try. I was concerned that my Merrell's aren't versatile enough (read: too casual) for Italy, so I wanted to replace one pair (I have brown and black) with a dressier but still comfortable shoe. Naots got good ratings, and I found this adorable pair of Mary Janes that I couldn't resist.

I ordered a pair on Friday and received them yesterday (have I mentioned how much I love Zappos?). Unfortunately, as the website mentioned, they ran small and were tight in the toes. But I could tell that they were a winner, so I called last night to arrange an exchange, and they shipped another pair that is arriving today! Amazingly fast service, and I hope this pair is the winner. If not, Zappos offers free and fast shipping both ways, so I'm sure I'll be able to find something suitable.

Today's notable milestones

It's a rare day that sees not one, but two notable and important milestones. I had to share. We'll go in chronological order.

At approximately 6:56 A.M. this morning, just as I pulled into my favorite gas station (it receives that categorization because it's full service and the attendant greets me by name), my car's odometer reached 90,000 miles.

Ninety-thousand! That's almost six figures, and six figures is a lot of miles for a car. She's nearly seven years old (to be more exact, 6.7 years, for those of you who are dying to calculate my per-year mileage stats), and though I stopped aging several years ago, she apparently doesn't share that gift (if only her issues could be fixed with a shot or two of Botox, her maintenance would be a lot cheaper).

That last sentence was not my way of saying that I have stopped aging by taking up a Botox routine. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but my method is simpler and cheaper and involves denial and the ability to perform creative math.

So that was milestone 1, and believe me, at 6:56 A.M. this morning, I had no idea that more excitement was in order--but it was!

Milestone #2: At 6:23 P.M. this evening (or thereabouts, I didn't check the time, but delivering a milestone without a time marker feels like I'm depriving you of critical information), I took out the garbage for the first time since we moved in. (For those of you playing stats at home, we've lived here for 2.2ish years, depending on when you calculate the move-in day, but that is neither here nor there for the point of this story.)

Going over two years without taking out the garbage is an amazing feat, especially considering how much B has traveled since we moved here. But he is a saint and understands that garbage-related tasks are among my most dreaded, and he always takes the garbage out before he leaves for his business trips.

Except this time. He took the garbage out on Sunday, the day before he left, but a ferocious collection of detritus had collected since then, to the point that my admittedly overactive olfactory senses were assaulted this morning when I walked into the kitchen.

My morning routine is breezy and fast, so I was able to get out of Dodge before I was overpowered. I considered my options on my way in to work. I could put the bag on the back porch, but what if animals got into it? I considered putting it in the downstairs bathroom and closing the door and letting B take care of it when he got home, but that wouldn't be fair to B or the bathroom (or myself, if I wanted to use the bathroom).

I had no solution, but I knew that the garbage would be waiting for me when I got home. Sure enough, the trash fairies hadn't come, and the bag was still there, except by this time, it had grown fangs.

The last bit might be a slight exaggeration.

I knew that there was only one way to fix the garbage problem. I was scared, but I gave myself a pep talk, held my breath, grabbed the bag, and headed for the dumpster.

And surprisingly enough, the experience was not that bad. We have a new dumpster, and it's still pristine, and the weather hasn't been too hot, and there weren't any bugs or small animals that wanted to attack me. All in all, it was not a horrible, traumatizing experience.

Taking out the garbage is not going to become a habit, but if, in another 2 years, it has to be done, I will step up to the plate.

How low will it go?

Before last week, one of my least favorite (but sadly necessary) activities was checking finance.yahoo.com for the Euro/Dollar exchange rate (symbol: eurusd=x). The rate has been climbing since, well, since soon after the euro made its world debut, but the climb over the last year since our honeymoon has been particularly demoralizing, especially since we know how little the dollar bought at a better exchange rate.

But there are signs of improvement. Crude oil is falling. Gold is falling. And so is the euro. It fell 5 cents alone last week, and yesterday it dipped below $1.50 for the first time in many months. Granted, we're still 10 cents away from the rate that we had in September of last year, but we're much better off than we would have been several months ago.

We had planned to buy euros last week, but when we saw the exchange rate a-tumbling, we decided to hold off, and now comes the difficult decision--how long to wait? How low will the euro go, and is this drop temporary? I'm not much of a gambler but I do love a bargain--I plan to hold off as long as I can, as long as the rates are still good.

Our Italy itinerary

I've learned that planning a lengthy vacation is a lot easier when you aren't simultaneously planning a wedding.

At this time last year, I was worrying about my dress, shoes, hair, make-up, wedding programs, and weather (this list is meant to be exemplary rather than exhaustive--I'm sure I had many other worries), all while trying to plan our two-week French honeymoon. The honeymoon was a lot of fun, though perhaps a tad (dare I say it) overplanned. When there is much to plan, I get overwhelmed and err on the side of excessive planning (if I could upload the wedding-day schedule as exhibit A, I would). I planned and scheduled everything for the 'moon, probably because I felt overwhelmed by all that I could not control with the wedding and grasped onto that which I could control.

So, lesson learned. For this next vacation in Italy, I intend to adopt more of a laissez-faire attitude (which, in any other person, would not be described as such, but one step at a time).

Our Italy itinerary is more of a buffet than a checklist. I've figured out the sites that we're most likely to enjoy and have made reservations for a couple of museums with long lines, but most of our activities are simply grouped by neighborhood. If we're nearby, we'll go. If we don't make it, no worries--maybe next time we're in Italy. As Rick says, assume you'll return.

So here's our loosey-goosey itinerary, as it stands now:

Day 0: Fly to Florence.

Days 1-5: Florence. We've reserved a day bike tour through Tuscany (12 miles isn't that long for a bike ride, right?) and have museum reservations for our last full day, but otherwise, our time is mostly unstructured. I want to take a day trip to Siena, but we'll probably spend most of our remaining time kicking around Florence, splitting our time between museums and cathedrals (for B) and fabulous Italian stores (for moi).

Days 5-10: Venice. Our time here is even more unstructured, as we have no reservations or tours. I want to take a gondola ride, hang out at St. Mark's Square at night, and eat dinner at a restaurant on a canal. And, of course, the requisite shopping.

Days 10-18: Cruise. We've booked two excursions: one takes us to the Acropolis in Athens (but lets us explore on our own), and the other is a 4x4 off-road experience in Croatia. We plan to explore our other 3 ports on our own. (Such intrepid explorers!)

Day 18: Fly to Frankfurt. If only I had thought to connect in Munich--we could have gone to Oktoberfest. I suppose I can live without experiencing that cultural phenomenon.

Day 19: Fly home and start getting ready to return to Germany in two months.

A long way from Hamburger Helper

Unlike the restaurant experience, where you enjoy your decadence and then have to face the bottom line at the end, grocery shopping demands that you pay first and enjoy later. I appreciate the principle, though I can't say I'm fond of the bill.

As fuel prices have increased, so have our grocery bills, and while I do make an effort to look at prices in the grocery store, I couldn't remember the last time that I looked at the bill to see how much individual items cost and what their percentage of the total was. Tonight after another astronomical bill, I decided that it was time to figure out where our money is going. So here it is, grocery shopping 101.

Produce: 41%
This number didn't surprise me--we each eat about 6-8 servings of fruits and veggies each day, and we buy most of them fresh from the store. The surprise from this category was the $19.31 that I spent on cherries. Cherries! I did get two different kinds, but $20 on cherries is a tad over the top. Though they are heaven...I'm not sure if I have any regrets here.

Dairy: 25%
This number includes yogurt (our weekday breakfast) and milk--and that's it. I drink chocolate Lactaid milk with dinner every night. It's not cheap, but milk helps even my emotional keel. This is a small price to pay for maintaining equilibrium.

Meat: 8%
This category is just for deli meat--we buy our meat monthly from a local farm. We eat deli meat for our lunches, but this number seems unnecessarily high for such a small portion of our food intake. We might have to re-evaluate this one.

Grocery: 7%
This category is terribly undescriptive, but it includes juice (also an important part of my diet), fruit jars (in case we run out of fruit--it does happen, even when you spend $20 on cherries), and some soup packages that looked tasty (ok, their main appeal was their easiness factor, and I'm just hoping that they're slightly better than edible).

Natural foods: 6%
I couldn't resist the $6 all-natural, half-fruit cereal. If history is any indicator of the future, I will eat one bowl and leave the rest for B to mix into his daily plain yogurt. I also got delish-looking roasted red pepper salad dressing and organic tomato sauce (but only because they rearranged the grocery store and I couldn't find the pasta/sauce aisle).

Food bazaar: 6%
This section is near the deli. I got two kinds of cheeses--an enormous chunk of mozzarella (cheese tends to disappear when B is home alone, so I've learned to buy it in bulk) and an exotic-looking chive cheese from South America (I admit, an impulse purchase).

Frozen foods: 3%
This category is for ice cream and only ice cream. After last night's 500-calorie Chunky Monkey debacle, I had to replenish the stores. Good thing B doesn't travel all the time or I'd have to take up a real workout routine.

Deli: 2%
Sub rolls for our deli meats.

Prepared foods: 1%
I generally try to avoid prepared foods, but I'm still scared to make my own pizza dough, so I buy it pre-made (and I'm not convinced that mine would be any better or healthier, and it would certainly be more time consuming, so I'm a big fan of this convenience food).

Bakeshop: 1%
This is why I should not grocery shop alone. The carrot cake single serving was calling my name--I couldn't resist! The devil on my shoulder reminded me of the twelve-layer chocolate cake that B desserted on last night, and in the cake went to my cart. I intend to enjoy it thoroughly.

So that's the most recent grocery bill, and I suspect it's indicative of other bills (with the exception, I hope, of the $20 cherries). On the one hand, I'm not fond of the cost of those expensive fruits and veggies, but on the other hand, I'm proud that our highest expense is produce and not salty, preservative-laden boxed foods. I've come a long way from my Hamburger Helper days.

Do the hustle

A few months ago, B and I bought tickets to see last night's symphony performance. I feel terribly posh and a bit snooty just writing those words--lest you start thinking that I have developed an appreciation for fine arts, I wanted to go simply because they were going to play the new Indiana Jones score.

But then a few weeks ago, B had to schedule a 6 AM flight for this morning. Had we stayed for the entire show, we probably wouldn't have got home till after midnight, making for a difficult day for the traveler.

We decided that we would stay for an hour of the show, but after we meandered through town for a couple hours, we were tired and weren't sure that we even wanted to stay until the 8:30 start time, let alone another hour. And then it started to rain.

I proposed that we attempt to sell our covered seats to someone who didn't want to sit on the uncovered lawn, and B was game. And then he put on his hustlin' face and went to work outside the box office.

The event wasn't sold out--a factor that did not work in our favor--and we had no idea what we could get for the tickets. We decided to try selling them for what we payed.

B stood with the tickets, saying, "Two for the shed, two for the shed," to anyone who passed. He adopted a Boston accent that made for a more authentic experience. Standing in the crowd, trying to sell tickets, felt a little like those Apprentice episodes where people are forced to hawk hot dogs and theater tickets to indifferent New Yorkers. We almost had a sale within the first few minutes, but we weren't willing to go low enough, and they passed.

And then competition arrived, other hawkers. One man had a stack of tickets that he sold within 20 minutes--because he was selling them for half the price that people could get from the box office. By this time, the rain had stopped, so people were less scared of sitting outdoors.

B proposed that we split up and each make an effort to sell the tickets. My facial expression convinced him that I was not mentally prepared for the hustling scene, and the onus for selling the tickets was on his shoulders.

After 20 minutes of little to know interest, we decided that a price cut and a new marketing strategy was in order. We decided that we were willing to accept a loss as long as it wasn't a total loss, and we just wanted to get out of there and get home. "Shed for 20, shed for 20," he offered to those who walked by. I knew that this tactic was going to work--the lawn seats were selling for $19, and for $2 more, people could have indoor seats. It was just a matter of time before someone grabbed up the tickets.

Sure enough, a couple happened by and recognized the value in our proposition and purchased the seats immediately. They looked like us--yuppies, unwilling to risk getting wet outside and unused to buying from someone "on the streets," but willing to go along for a good deal. The deal was a net loss for us, and we didn't see any of the show, but we were willing to make both sacrifices so B wouldn't be exhausted during his travels today.

How cheap am I?

The fast few months, I've been cowering from knowledge about the energetic euro and its relationship to the debilitated dollar. The dollar, once the leader of the international pack, seems to sink to new and painful lows with every disastrous financial announcement coming from Wall Street and beyond.

Enough is enough. Self pity is not allowed for those of us who are planning 20-day vacations in Europe, especially when our cost-saving strategy is simply to eat more pizza (cheap, readily available, neverending list of topppings). Eating more pizza while in Italy--not such a hardship.

Pizza will help, but we are still looking for other ways to trim our budget. Today my mission was to research foreign exchange (fx) rates at nearby banks.

Unless you're buying 7 figures worth of foreign currency, you're going to pay a markup. Even ATM withdrawals in foreign countries come with a 1-3% surcharge, depending on your bank, not to mention a flat fee (at our bank, it's 3% + $5). I prefer to land with cash in hand so as to start the shopping immediately, so we have to buy some euros before we go.

Our bank's markup on foreign currency is 5%, which seems an astronomical fee to pay for the courtesy of acquiring legal tender. However, I discovered today that our bank's rates are better than most national banks. Except one.

One bank--which shall remain nameless because I'm not sure if what I'm going to do is kosher--charges only 4% if you purchase amounts over $1,000 (which we had planned to do anyway, considering that it would buy only about 600 euro--am doing my best not to break out a violin and play myself a sad little ditty).

And 4% is pretty close to 3% + $5 and is much better than 5%. For withdrawals of 300 euro or less, the 4% fee beats the ATM exchange rate (if I could insert tables into this entry, I would--I have an unnatural obsession with algebra and have been doing these calculations since I got home--I feel like I am cheating by using a calculator but the numbers have to be precise to make an educated decision).

There's a hitch, of course. You have to be a member of the bank to purchase foreign currency amounts in excess of $500 under some provision in the Patriot Act, which requires banks to have an established relationship with people who buy excessive amounts of foreign currency. Since when is spending $500 excessive? Clearly these people haven't seen our monthly grocery budget. But I digress.

I decided that there had to be a way around this issue (the schemer in me is always looking to pull off a harmless little caper), so I researched savings account and found an account that is free to open and has no fees. This weekend, we'll head down and make ourselves known to the bank (to satisfy the patriots among us), open our freebie account (I hope $5 deposits are allowed), and then start watching the market to figure out when we can get the best deal on euros.