A spa day for me and my gal

My daughter is still home for spring break, but what with one thing and another (husband up to his eyeballs at work; son unavailable; too exhausted from all those auditions) we didn't go anywhere for a break from winter in the Great Lakes region. I decided that this general lack of airfare and hotel bills meant that she and I could afford to do a spa day. So for five hours today, she and I got the following services:

Daughter:

Shampoo, haircut, and blow dry
Manicure and pedicure
Facial
Eyebrow wax (her previously-untouched weedy eyebrows are now a flawless topiary of beauty)

Me:

Hour-long deep tissue massage (there were times where things got so deep-tissuey that I felt inspired to use my almost-forgotten Lamaze breathing)
Facial (30 percent glycolic peel for the win! I'm expecting all my creepy bits of sun damage to fall off overnight.)
Eyebrow wax (just a little neatening up--nothing major)

I brought my current book (Kurt Vonnegut's Galapagos, and I don't recommend it) and enjoyed a nice rest while for a piquant change of pace, my daughter talked someone else's head off. I pity the woman who had to administer the no-chip pedicure and manicure; the talking went on and on. I have NO IDEA where she gets that from.

Don't worry; I tipped generously.

Then, because we were looking splendid and felt a desire to show off, we made Mr. Buxom take us out to dinner.

I sneaked a picture of the Arcona products my facialist used, but the room was so SOOTHINGLY DARK and filled with the plaintive wail of the shakuhachi that my picture is a blurry mess. 

Very Zen but useless photograph.