Spa Night

I went to a friend’s house last night for a spa party. Let me first tell you that I hate those kinds of parties. If I really want something, I will go to the store and buy it or I will order it from the 800 number conveniently displayed across the tv screen at 3 AM. I do not like being “sold” on something that I didn’t even know I really wanted and couldn’t live without. The only reason why people even have those parties is because they got roped into attending one for a friend and the person selling convinced them that if they have their own party they will get tons of free goods. They in turn dupe their friends into coming to their party and it happens to somebody else… it is a vicious circle. The only party that I don’t hate going to is the Tastfully Simple parties… for obvious tasting reasons and the fact that it is good stuff you really can’t just go buy in a store. Ok, really it is just the tasting.

So, first things first, we learned to think of our skin as grapes, raisins, and cornflakes. What’s that, you think this sounds dumb?? No shit, you should have been sitting there with me getting the live version. When we are young our skin is fresh and supple like that of a grape, then we get wrinkles and dark circles (raisins), and eventually we become dried up old corn flakes (Apparently, this stage happens around age 30). Maybe this lady isn’t going to “sell” us on stuff, she is going to make us so disgusted with ourselves we shamelessly purchase all her crap so we are able to go out in public?! So, we all had to gather around the sink and wash our faces to begin the process of de-cornflaking. One of the final steps in this process was a micro-bead sloughing cream. I was just scrubbing away waiting for my turn at the sink… and waiting… and sloughing… and waiting… and slouphing… Finally my face started to burn, because apparently I had sloughed my way to the grapes. I think the lady could tell I was beginning to feel some pain and calming told me that I could quit sloughing. Lady, you just told me that I was one foot in the cereal grave and you expect me to stop sloughing now… when I have a chance to use all these deliciously free products… uh uh, not a chance! Luckily by then the sink opened up, so I was able to sooth my burning skin and move past my urge to seize the moment in this skin-tervention.

Next up, more slouphing. Yay! Thankfully, it was of the lips and not my cheeks. So, all of us girls sat around in a circle waiting for the copious amounts of white cream to dry on our lips. We looked lovely. By “we looked lovely”, I mean “we looked like a bunch of jackasses”. After we chipped the dried cream along with our lip skin onto our spa towel, we had to slather more cream to replenish the moisture. I was beginning to feel greasy at this point. Then when the lady looked at me with huge, expectant eyes and asked, “And, how do your lips feel?!?!”, to which I blankly replied, “Little.”, we had to move onto a different treatment, because I think she was annoyed.

By this time all the girls, who for the most part didn’t know each other, were becoming more comfortable and in the grand tradition of girls, a little giggly. Yeah, that’s right boys… I just used the word “giggly”! The host of the party recently developed a cold sore on her lip and we all had a lot to say about her “Herp”. And, as you can imagine, Herp jokes are always funny. The seller lady just wasn’t have it. She wanted us to pay attention and she wanted us to pay attention NOW! So, the next stop on our spa treatment train was the aroma therapy/hand massage treatment and she was adamant that not only could we not use the word “Herp” again, as soon as she put the aromatic spa towel on our faces we had to keep our mouths shut. Bitch, I am a grown ass woman… If I want to say Herp, I will say Herp… If I want to laugh and over slough my face and announce that I have little lips, I will do that too! One by one she put the towels on our faces as we were sprawled out across our hosts living room. I did take a little offense when she said she was going to skip over two of the girls to put the towels over mine and another girls face to speed up the “as soon as I put the aromatic spa towel on your face you have to keep your mouths shut” command….

But my disdain for this BeautyControl product pushing dictator was quickly dispelled when the hand massages began. As I laid there on the floor of my new Herp afflicted friend listening to the spa music CD, smelling my aromatic peppermint towel, enjoying the fact that this bossypants was not only massaging my hands but that she was doing so when I had no intentions of buying her products, I couldn’t help but to enjoy myself.