As I plan my sojourn to yoga class, I wonder:
- whether I can cover the scab on my chin with enough of that spackle-dy stuff to hide it for the entire sweaty adventure
- whether on the way home I should stop at the unbelievable cosmetics store they just opened at Paseo Nuevo....
I took my daughter there one day during spring break. Schlumped in there in my sweats, hair unbrushed. It's lit up like a landing strip and filled, stem to stern, with absolutely fascinating little bottles, tubes, brushes, sponges, powders, and potions. The labeling is intelligent, the concepts brilliant. We spent an hour dabbing stuff on our faces with the proffered q-tips, sponges, etc.
Despite my desire to not buy into the whole cosmetics trip, I want to look better.
Still waiting for the magical transformation, I guess. I'm as much a dupe as anyone. Good thing I can't afford the dermabrasions, the plastic surgeries. Then I'd have to do more internal dithering: shall I get a tummy-tuck? I need about a year without mirrors.
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