all around me are familiar faces.....

yesterday i had a waxing appointment, during which my gal and i chatted it up like we always do, talking about anything and everything - whatever to keep our minds off of the fact that she's down there making me look like a prepubescent teen. actually this was only my second appointment with this new gal, so she and i really have so much to talk about relating to ourselves and are quite far from the talking shit about our friends and neighbors phase of the client/aesthetician relationship. ha! anyhow, yesterday in our conversation we began with talking about family/kids and the long weekend, then moved on to the dire need for central air conditioning to live in the valley (she lives in encino) as opposed to the westside or beach cities, and ended comparing notes on surfing & punk rock and their influence as the twigs & spit that bind south bay natives and denizens... after a game of 'do you know so-and-so?' and 'have you ever been to here-and-there?', we almost squealed like school girls impersonating pigs (or vice versa) and exclaimed a few 'oh my god!'s, and then speculated that it is a small world but needed more confirmation... last night when I got home from work (at around 10 p.m., yeah that late!) there was a message on my machine from her husband who confirmed it is, indeed, a small world... but still, i wouldn't want to paint it.