Things I Miss

I've lived in the wilderness for about 3 weeks now and reality is starting to sink in:

There's nowhere to get a pedicure.

At first I was in denial. After all, I'm still in the US, and even though I'm in the wilderness, I live on a resort with a lot of modern conveniences. I have a delicious, custom made Eskimo Kiss mocha every morning (soy, 1/2 the white chocolate, no drizzle). This has lulled me into a false sense of complacency about my situation.

I thought there must be a nail salon in Talkeetna. I pushed my way into the general store, asked a lady stocking the fridge where to go for a mani/pedi, and the look on her face after I asked was not encouraging.

She looked at another lady, and that person said, well, there is a place at the end of the spur road. I asked if that was within walking distance. She said no, it would be a pretty far walk. I said, that would defeat the purpose of my pedicure, then wouldn't it?

I did manage to buy a jar of Nutella that wasn't too horribly marked up at the general store, thus it wasn't a complete loss.

So, once I came to grips with the idea that I'm roughing it and will be for the next few months, I decided I would have to do the unthinkable and paint my own toenails. One problem: there is no place to buy nail polish. No CVS. No Walgreens. Not even a lousy dollar store.

How do people survive like this??

I have these faint, lingering memories of what it was like to be in a mall. The bright, shiny things available for purchase. The smell of new clothes mingling with hot buttered pretzels and maybe even the whiff of coffee from a Starbucks. I can't even think about Teavana...the memories of hundreds of loose-leaf teas for the tasting are too painful. Aahhhh. Right now I'd even settle for stepping foot inside a Wal Mart, just to see all of the things, to hold them and touch them. It's not that I want to buy lots of things, I just miss knowing that I could if I wanted to.

I confessed to one of my friends that I miss the smell of a mall. She said, we're only two and a half weeks in, pace yourself.

Oy.