Inner Farm Girl and Inner Critic have joined forces. Together, they have decided that if I'm going to buy like a mad woman at the Bath and Body Works semi-annual sale, I better figure out how to use it. It's the only way they will unfold their arms and stop glaring. God, they just wear you down.
Somehow, I ended up with a full dresser drawer of lotions, body sprays, travel size stuff and mini perfumes. I've learned that different items are offered at different times through the 3-week sale, so one trip just isn't going to cut it. On my last visit, I walked through the door and the SA said, 'Wow, you're back again.' Damn right I'm back.
Plus, I change my mind about stuff. For example, I ended up with tons of Midnight Path products: body lotion, body spray, eau de toilette, body oil and body butter. Later, I figured out that MP was best to sleep in. In fact, it's amazing sleep lotion. Not so much a day lotion. So I had to take some of it back and swap for other stuff. Some of which I also took back and swapped for other stuff. Hey, is 100% satisfaction guaranteed or not? Says so right on the receipt.
After realizing that I would have to up my consumption to use the lotions (at least!) before the next sale in June, I began a new morning ritual that's actually working quite well. Here's how it goes:
First, I work out early in the morning (starting at 4:45 - 5:00). Wait, let me define 'work out.' This consists of walking leisurely on the treadmill for up to 20 minutes while I drink a large glass of my water/juice blend. Then, I do a few stretches if I don't change my mind, and top off this vigorous session with a downward dog that is downright embarrassing. You can imagine the sweat.
After coming upstairs, I lotion my whole body with - say - Forever Sunshine lotion. Then I top that with Pink Chiffon body oil, after which I apply Honey Sweetheart sparkling body spray. I put on my favorite sweats and settle in on big red for coffee. Imagine those gloves you wear to bed after greasing up your hands. Same concept, but full body. Each day, I change up these combos but in the end, I always smell amazing. B-man will make some comment, like 'you always smell amazing!' See, that's how I know. By the time I shower and get ready for work, my skin is soft and Daphne, my nose, is ready to take on the world.
Inner Farm Girl is feeling comfortable enough to go about her business, but Inner Critic is hanging back, squinting at me like he doesn't quite trust this plan. Dude, relax and unfold your arms.
image from kottke.org
Like all good perfumistas, I have spring perfumes, summer perfumes, fall perfumes and winter perfumes. Sometimes I arrange them in my cabinet to reflect this so that my choices will be narrowed as I'm running late for work. It's a foolproof way to ensure that I wear the appropriate perfume during the appropriate season for as long as it's appropriate.
That's such crap.
Take today, for example. It's cold, not bitter cold, but barely warm enough for me to leave without a coat this morning. (In my defense, I keep a coat in the trunk of my car, a blue anorak number that goes with absolutely nothing I wear and would look hideous should I get stranded on the side of the road.) Still, I get full credit for having the damn coat.
Anyway, as I'm showering and mentally sorting through my perfumes - the winter perfumes, of course - I can think of nothing at all that lights me up. Yes, it is a perfect White Aoud day, but snore. Mauboussin is certainly a contender because its smokiness would mirror the lung destroying substance we call air in our city. Or maybe Queen by Queen Latifah, one of my favorite cheap chocolate and patchouli loves. Suddenly, they all seem too...I don't know, wintry.
Then it hits me - I want coconut. Yup, tropical and spicy, warm and summery coconut. So I slather on coconut body butter from the Body Shop and reach into the back of my middle shelf for Versace's Crystal Noir. All day, I catch whiffs of my loveliness until I go to a meeting at 3:00 and get out-sillaged by a colleague wearing Angel. What the hell? To make matters worse, it is beautiful on her and I spend the whole meeting wishing I had obeyed the rules and worn something January-ish that could trump all competing sillage in the board room.
The quest for airspace supremacy lives on, seasonal or otherwise.
Image from marketingessentialsblog.wordpress.com
January this year feels like most Januarys in a lot of ways: I'm chubby, I hate my hair and I'm wondering what to do with the rest of my life. Same old.
But there's good stuff, too. I have a new great nephew and, after much procrastination, B-man got his hernia repaired. I know - these things don't exactly belong in the same sentence. But after all we went through with Dad, this minor procedure was a bigger deal than it should have been, and I caught a little PTSD waiting for B-man's surgeon to come and tell me all was well. Thank God we were home before happy hour.
B-man apparently doesn't understand that he's supposed to have at least some pain after surgery. He's also getting used to my Mother Hen approach to healing.
Me: Are you sure you're not in any pain?
B-man: A little achiness, but nothing I need medication for.
Me: Are you sure? Because I could cut your pain meds in half - or even in quarters.
B-man: No, I don't need it.
Me: Okay, but you're not working out or doing anything strenuous.
B-man: I know, but I'm going to walk Paige.
Me: No, I'll walk Paige.
B-man: They said to judge my activity by pain. And I heard them say walking is good.
Me: You were still loopy from the anesthesia.
B-man: I felt fine.
Me: You asked if it was a bad idea to do a happy dance.
B-man: I would have, too.
Me: I don't trust your freakish pain tolerance to know that you're healing.
B-man: I feel pretty normal.
Me: Nice try, but you've never been normal.
B-man: Look, I'll cut Paige's walk short and take my phone in case I need your help.
Me: Promise to stop in your tracks and call for a ride if you get tired, feel pain, or just want to.
B-man: I promise, Mommy.
His walk was fine, and I fully expect him to ignore my motherly warnings and go about his life. I have worn him down to the point that he has committed to a week of exercise that only includes walking Paige every morning. That's a major win. Now if I can just figure out what to do with my hair.
Image from mirianda.com
The holidays were a blur this year and I don't remember a time when I was more relieved to see them go. Thank God for my family, my work, good food and the Bath & Body Works semi-annual sale.
Throughout the past months, I've sniffed more than ever...it was the only way to distract my mind and rest instead of worry about Dad or worry about work or just worry in general. I'm not a worrier by nature, so now I hope to settle back into my own groove. If I can just remember what it is.
This morning over coffee I wore Twisted Peppermint by B&BW. Twisted seems appropriate.
Image from Bath & Body Works website
