When I finished my last job I was given a gift voucher at a nearby shop - the sort that sells expensive skin and hair care products - including obscure-purpose ones - as well as services like facials, spas, etc. So I thought I'd add a little $ to the voucher and turn it into a 2hr massage. I was looking forward to a slow transformation from adult woman to puddle.
It was lovely. I could've had the back massage three times over. And I recall clearly thinking in my head 'Gee I hope she does that again' after the hot face towel press. I found it really hard to relax and had to focus on releasing a lot of hand, arm and knee muscles. But the facial part took me by surprise.
It was something like a dozen different applications - something cereal-like, things cold and avocado-y, hot presses, slippery oils, eye pads, gels, the who gamut. Mind you, 2hrs was the longest service they offered, so if a gamut was to be had now was the time.
It was reported to me that my face has combination skin and that it was 'okay' considering.
Considering what? Considering that no-one pegs me above 25? Considering I've had new graduates talk down to me because they think they're senior? Maybe she meant I've gotten too much sun. Who knows, but I was slightly miffed at 'okay'. I prefer 'in great shape',or 'really good', or some other euphemism for okay, frankly. Like 'Do nothing, it's perfect'
I'm in denial about it but I suspect this little miffiness got the better of me: I bought some product. :| I know. I'm so weak.
And its the cereal-type stuff, of all things, because if one must buy something one should always start with this. So I'll be trying desperately to keep my boyfriend from looking at it or seeing me in it lest he a) run from the flat screaming, or b) fall unconscious from an oxygen depriving fit of laughter. I've even been trying to think of things I can say to lighten the mood (read, gain some respect) if he does see me in this leprous oatmeal/almond stuff; at the moment I'm planning on a lazy-eyed 'braaaains'. I mean, I really can't defend this, other than to say my skin is simply 'okay', but not good. I'm so ashamed. (And the stuff stinks too.)
The whole day, begun with a sleep-in and largely filled with this indulgence, was continued with more indulgence at Borders where I tried to spend a voucher from my brother. After being cyclically miffed, appalled and disbelieving of the paltry selection of knitting mags (all of 3), and then unimpressed with the offerings on the bookshelf, I settled on The Nanny Diaries (which I now highly recommend for nice and smart brainfood) and Girls' Night Out 3.
And then it was home for an evening of telly and knitting. Almost perfect.
