Adventures in Lip Waxing

That's my upper lip. The things we do for hair removal! 

I've written about my upper lip before. Who knew I would have even more to say about such a specific spot on my face? My wily lip is off having a life of its own, wild enough to make it on the internet several times, apparently.

Since my last lip post, I've found great success fulfilling my waxing needs at my local In Spa. I've never had any issues with their services until my most recent visit, when my lip left the salon looking even more noticeable than when I walked in.

I knew something wasn't quite right when my upper lip started going numb after the wax was applied. The wax felt like it was completely globbed onto my face. "It should be fine," I thought. (WRONG. Body parts going numb is never going to result with everything being fine.) Waxing your upper lip is never a comfortable endeavor, so I just assumed it was part of the process.

That's when the fun began.

Riiiiip went the wax, and with it, my skin. I honestly, didn't even notice at first. It felt like hell, which was somewhat normal, so I didn't think anything of it. I paid, left the salon, and the moment my skin touched the outside air, I knew something wasn't right. It felt like you could roast s'mores on my upper lip, it was burning so hot.

I plopped down into my car and immediately looked in my rear-view mirror to discover that I had chunks of skin missing from my lip. I couldn't see it too well in my car, so I left the salon and drove home. Upon further inspection, I was left with three, painful dark spots, two of them quite prominent. I was better off never having set foot in the salon and trying to bring the Frida Kahlo look back in style.

I hate having to confront somebody or a company for wronging me. Normally I put my husband up to the task, because it makes me so uncomfortable, but I knew that wouldn't quite work in this situation. It wasn't like he could show them his lip. I asked people what they thought I should do, hoping that someone would say, "Just let bygones be bygones." But that didn't happen. The consensus seemed to be that I needed to tell In Spa.

So, I decided I needed to quit making this so difficult in my head. All I truly needed to ask was a simple question, "What can you do for me?"

And by god, it worked! First of all, the manager and all of the estheticians were extremely apologetic. They bought me a tube of Aquaphor to help speed the healing process, and gave me some other basic care tips.  But that wasn't the end of it; they proceeded to give me a full refund for the botched wax job, a $20 gift card, and booked me for a free facial. How was that for customer service?

Not once did I have to plead my case. Not once did I have to yell or get mean. They just went above and beyond after seeing the atrocity on my face. In other words, my upper lip did the speaking for me.

My lip will take some time to heal, and I was instructed not to wax that area for at least six months to give my skin time to thicken. But they exceeded my expectations for handling the situation, and in my opinion, more than made up for what happened. They will certainly keep me as a customer, even if I decide to quit waxing my lip (don't worry, I'll find another way. My husband won't have a wife with a caterpillar for a lip).

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but when you ask nicely, sometimes you get what you want and more!

One Magical Freaking Trip

At this point, if I even make it on the plane, I'm going to consider it a miracle.

I don't think I've had a more frustrating travel experience than the one I haven't had yet; I leave for Orlando tomorrow, and the planning process has been a complete nightmare.

It all started when my boss agreed to send me to a Communications and Social Media conference in Disneyworld. I was stoked! I've never been to Florida, never mind Disneyworld. My inner child freaked out just a little bit. And my outer adult freaked out a lot.

After I paid the conference fee, I realized I paid more than the price the conference brochure stated. So I called a conference organizer, who offered me a free $350 workshop to make up for it. I had to alter my travel plans to accommodate this new freebie, but I accepted since it was a better deal than the price difference I initially called about. And then I didn't get any confirmation about my workshop attendance.

After a week of hounding the guy that made the offer, he finally sent me an email proving he had indeed offered this.

After all of that, I then received another email promoting an even cheaper rate for this conference. So my co-worker (who is also coming with me) and I called to say, "What the heck is the real price of this conference? You need to give us your best deal, refund the extra, while honoring your workshop freebie." So they finally honored our request, but it took speaking with a few people to make it happen.

Now, this is where it just starts getting ridiculous. When I called to book my hotel, I got one of the most computer-illiterate "cast members" to assist me. After being on the phone with her for one whole hour, she lost my information several times after entering it into the system, and she kept mixing up which hotel I was trying to stay at due to all of the "magical" enhancements their computer system was going through. By the end of the conversation, I was told that I was staying at the hotel in which the conference was being held.

But over the weekend, I was mailed a confirmation stating that I was booked at a completely different resort. It was in a location that would have forced me to get a rental car, since it was so far from everything. After being on the phone for another half day, and speaking with two different "cast members," Disneyworld made it right and got me booked at the correct hotel.

And I wish my story ended there. But it doesn't.

Southwest Airlines apparently needs God to beam down a stone tablet blessed in holy water in order to change your last name on your frequent flier account. I called to change it, but they actually need me to fax my certified marriage certificate, along with a bunch of other identifying information. I asked if I could email it, since fax machines are so 1989. The woman I spoke with exclaimed that email was completely out of the question. She was almost appalled that I would suggest such an efficient communication method.

You know what Alaska Airlines did for me when I needed to change my name on my mileage plan? They just changed it over the freaking phone.

In the process of writing down step number 20 from the Southwest rep, she decided she was going to hyphenate my last name on my account. But not only that, in her hyphenating process, she transposed my married and maiden name. So this morning, when I went to check in for my flight, the website wouldn't let me. I could not figure out why the site wasn't accepting anything other than my legal, married name, which I used to book my flight.

When I called Southwest for help, the new, less derpy, call center employee, was able to change my name back to Hana Medina so that I could finish checking in. So here's my question: If Southwest can change the name on my ticket with a simple phone call (and without verifying any identifying information), why couldn't they just change my damn frequent flier account? I don't get it.

When I return, I'm going to have to fax Southwest all of my documents, and a plea that they give me credit for all of the flights I'm taking this week. After that, Southwest will be joining United Airlines on my "Airlines to Avoid" list.

Tomorrow, I leave my house at 4 a.m. to go to one of the "happiest" places on earth. If anything else goes wrong, I'm just going to contact Murphy himself and say, "Why have you cursed me?!" But that means I'll probably have to dial a 1-800 number and speak to four different agents before I actually get Murphy.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but in the words of a Disneyworld call center agent, I hope I have a "magical trip!"