Brett's Facial

- A heart-warming story about a contemporary man and his small pores

So rather than be embarrassed about it... I might as well post it for the world to see, exposing a new, delicate, yet oh-so-masculine side of me and just own it. Yes, it is true... Mr. Maylett got a facial treatment in June. It's not like I paid for it though!

For a work related event I had to go to Los Carneros Resort Spa in Napa Valley, California (poor me) for three days. The company that hosted the event set us up with several activities including golf, mountain biking, swimming, massage etc. However, one day they gave us the choice of either going on a wine-tasting tour or getting a facial treatment. Most of the people there were really excited about the wine-tasting, so they went a wine bibbin'. Being the sober Mormon that I am, I hesitantly opted for the facial.

So I showed up at the spa 15 minutes early as instructed, and the lady at the desk told me go into the locker room, shower, sit in the steam room for 15 minutes, get a bath robe on and meet the facial therapist (is that what they are called?) in the lobby. My question to the receptionist is... "Why does one need to be in the buff for a facial?" The whole thing sounded kind of fishy to me, but I did it anyway after she assured me that I would be covered with blankets.

So after I sat in the lobby in my robe for about five minutes with all of the other ladies (they only had Cosmo and Self magazines) the face lady came in and took me back to the face room where I listened to some New Age Peruvian music and got into the massage bed thingie until she came in. First she steamed my face and picked all of my zits, which is always a treat. Then she rubbed some stuff that felt like sandpaper and smelled like lemons into my face. Then she began massaging my face in a manner most pleasant while we talked about everything from Oprah to natural gas. I kind of tuned out the face lady after she started saying something about free radicals in my skin and how some miraculous new lotion had beads filled with Vitamin C in it. She complimented my skin (I think that telling someone that they have fine, small pores is a compliment, right?) and my skin thanked her. She also told me to make sure that I always put sunscreen on my temples and the top of my head, which I took as "You are going bald". Then I got the hair yanked off of my back (that helped explain the previously mentioned excessive exposure) with some sticky crap and some fly paper. It took everything that I had not to spew out a stream of obscenities at the face lady. The whole thing took about an hour and a half.

Of course, I would never pay for a facial, but overall, it was a gratifying experience. I didn't have any wrinkles in my face for about three days and the best part was when I went back into the locker room and a man said "Oh my gosh look at you! Your face is like... GLOWING!" I waited until he left the locker room to change back into my clothes. I felt creepy doing it with that dude around .

The Napa Valley trip was actually very relaxing. Along with the facial, I got in a little golf, some swimming and some mountain biking. I also now know more about wine than most people that I know even though I couldn't really tell you what it tastes like.

Next month I may watch Divine Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants so stay tuned for that!