Confessions of the ill-groomed
Like my friend KC, over at Where's My Cape?, I kicked-off the new year with a gift-certificate trip to the spa last Friday. Oh, hello hairless ladies!! Yes, it's me. Please provide with dew and white robe.
I had signed up for the "European" facial, which I have had before, but did not clearly remember. As in, I do clearly remember with great appetite last year's post-facial lunch: fried fish with Marie Rose sauce, hot chips with vinegar, and a Cadbury Flake bar at Eamonn's in Old Town.
What I could not quite recall was the choking mist machine. (I'm sorta more comfortable in a fog.) Nor the blinding interrogation light, the near-endless extraaaaction of useful facial oils (hello! now the evil ozone can penetrate my pores!), or the very uncomfortable conversation between moi and Madame.
Her: Tell me about your skin care regimen.
Me: Umm, well...
Her: You just use a regular cleanser and moisturizer.
Me: Oh, well, sometimes, maybe...
Her: Sometimes... Like last night, how did you prepare your skin for bed?
Me: Giggle. Um, we just said good night and went to bed.
Her: Silence.
Her: And this morning, what did you do?
Me: I took a shower.
Her: And you used??
Me: Um. Water.
Aie! Here is the awful truth: I don't wash my face. There! I said it! I don't use a "cleanser" or a "moisturizer" or anything else with "essential oils." But I swear I do take a shower. And I *think* my skin looks okay... I haven't gotten any notes from HR that says something like, "Re: Personal grooming. Meeting 10 a.m., please." And I do like shampoo! I do wash my hair!
Her: Does your skin itch?
Me: No.
Her: Do you break out?
Me: Never.
Her: Silence.
White light goes on. She grimly studies my skin. Sigh.
Her: I believe you have conditioned your skin to this treatment.
I had signed up for the "European" facial, which I have had before, but did not clearly remember. As in, I do clearly remember with great appetite last year's post-facial lunch: fried fish with Marie Rose sauce, hot chips with vinegar, and a Cadbury Flake bar at Eamonn's in Old Town.
What I could not quite recall was the choking mist machine. (I'm sorta more comfortable in a fog.) Nor the blinding interrogation light, the near-endless extraaaaction of useful facial oils (hello! now the evil ozone can penetrate my pores!), or the very uncomfortable conversation between moi and Madame.
Her: Tell me about your skin care regimen.
Me: Umm, well...
Her: You just use a regular cleanser and moisturizer.
Me: Oh, well, sometimes, maybe...
Her: Sometimes... Like last night, how did you prepare your skin for bed?
Me: Giggle. Um, we just said good night and went to bed.
Her: Silence.
Her: And this morning, what did you do?
Me: I took a shower.
Her: And you used??
Me: Um. Water.
Aie! Here is the awful truth: I don't wash my face. There! I said it! I don't use a "cleanser" or a "moisturizer" or anything else with "essential oils." But I swear I do take a shower. And I *think* my skin looks okay... I haven't gotten any notes from HR that says something like, "Re: Personal grooming. Meeting 10 a.m., please." And I do like shampoo! I do wash my hair!
Her: Does your skin itch?
Me: No.
Her: Do you break out?
Me: Never.
Her: Silence.
White light goes on. She grimly studies my skin. Sigh.
Her: I believe you have conditioned your skin to this treatment.
posted by Mary Ellen at
10:17 AM
5 Comments:
Sounds to me like she was just jealous.
Whoa, we have the same skin care regime! Maybe we should film an infomercial to sell our "low cost method of skin care".
In unrelated news, I finally got around to answering your question about shrimp recipes. I'm sure the shrimp has long been eaten, but for the future, I love this recipe for Lemony Quinoa and Asparagus Shrimp Scampi from the Boston Globe. Sooooo good! http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/magazine/articles/2008/05/18/runaway_grain/
I'm sure I started lecturing you in high school about such things. And she probably didn't get into the sunscreen issue! Deaf ears!
That explains the dyed eyebrows. I'm amazed there is no photo of them here. They are very fancy.
Aie! don't spill my beauty secrets, Pamela!
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