SWEET SEPHORA
Sephora stores are like Mecca for girly girls. If I'm in the right mood, I like nothing better than to wander around with my wire mesh shopping basket loading up on make up, nail polish and skin care products that I will take home and probably never use because I'm not really into wearing makeup. I am however, a packaging whore. I will buy anything if it has cool packaging. Or a gimmick, like the perfume they carry that's called "Dirt" and it totally smells like dirt. I didn't buy dirt perfume, but I was so pleased to sample it.
My friend Marcia recently went and spent some time at Sephora - she was euphorically rapturous upon her return home. But there is apparently a downside to the Sephora experience as illustrated in her e-mail which I have permission to share with you...
So this is hilarious. You know last night I scrubbed with Ginger scrub and used strawberry body wash and shampoo and then I put Origins Ginger soufflé cream on and dusted with honey dust. (okay no problem yet.) Then in the morning I got up early to go roller blading. Normally I use a Baby Block sunscreen without scent. But I was so into the scent thing, I decided to use Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen.
So basically, I smelled like a fucking tropical fruit salad. And...basically...I turned into one gigantic meal for bugs. So I am skating along nice as can be and I get to my "half way blow my nose...catch my breath and turn around spot" I notice that I am FUCKING COVERED with blackish green bugs. They are all over my tie-shirt front and back. They are in my hair. They are on my shorts. They are on my arms and legs. They are stuck in the Velcro of my skates and knee/wrist guards. Naturally I completely freak out and start shaking my clothing and slapping them away. A female jogger sees me in distress and comes to help me get them off my back. But now I have to skate all the way back...against the wind. So every 25-50 ft I'm shaking my clothing and wapping at my head and body and the bugs are flying into my mouth and nose. And I am not exactly silent. I am making little "ach" and "yech" and "ahhh!" sounds all the while. And I am aware of what I must look like to the people walking on the walkway above me. I'm sure I looked like someone either having a schizophrenic paranoid attack or perhaps someone going through the worst part of drug withdrawal. I finally get to my car, rip off my skates (extracting the bugs from the Velcro) and slap the crap out of my clothing and body. I jump in my car and rush home. I do not rest or stop to hydrate. The second I get in the garage I shut the door and rip off my clothing. I leave my clothes in the garage and run inside to the shower.
And now we know that there is a hidden downside to Sephora.
Marsh
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