I just escaped from the Ulta store with my self-image still intact while having dropped less than $50 which must be some kind of national record or even a Christmas miracle.
I hate that store. First, there are too many mirrors for someone my age. I think they should have a special 'Of A Certain Age' section where the lighting is softer and all mirrors are paired with smoke machines.
Furthermore, the wrinkle creams Ulta sells are bogus. In fact, all creams promising dramatic results which include younger-looking skin are scams.
Look, the first one I tried promised dramatic results in 30 days. After that, I tried one that promised dramatic results in 10 days. After that, I tried another that promised dramatic results in one week. The last one promised dramatic results in just three days. Then I stopped them all; I couldn't stand all the drama of broken promises and accompanying hits to my self-image after I realized that instead of looking years younger I looked 50 days older.
The worst, however, is at the checkout. Today I had to stand in line for 16 eye rolls. Sixteen! A new record.
Many eye rolls were necessary because of Ulta's complex discounted pricing which demands lengthy complicated explanations to each customer. See, in addition to coupons, there are loyalty points, sale items, clearance items, specials, today's specials, special specials, extra-special specials and I think the Ulta Ultimate Super-Special Special.
Outside of these categories is the Buy One at Regular Price and Get One Half-off from a Special Selection of Merchandise, which is 60 percent off two if you buy three, or 20 percent off three if you buy two, which entitles you to BOGO of the store brand of anything under $10 as long as you buy more than one and are a member of the rewards program. Sign up now! Tallying up your remittance takes 20 minutes of studying the circular, higher math skills than what I got, and four eye rolls.
Final humiliation: The chick on line in front of me commented on what she called my 'facial exercises.' Naturally I told her the eye rolls help eliminate crow's feet and that sticking out your tongue helps smooth double chins.
So next time you're standing knee-deep at some cosmetics counter waiting to pay, try some 'facial exercises.' They are great stress relievers/conversation starters, are cheaper than wrinkle cream, and it doesn't matter if you forgot your coupons.
Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)
Friday, December 14, 2012
Monday, December 3, 2012
Magical Mist Tree Tour
Today we put the finishing touches on our Christmas tree. Yesterday we motored out to Pell Farms in Grafton to cut one down; little did we know what magic awaited us.
It was all because of the fog. Temperatures the night before had dropped below freezing before quickly rising with the sun. When the low-angled sunlight beat down on the snow-dusted ground, the result was a chowder of fog thicker than a South Boston accent.
Look, we already are experienced in picking out a tree after a six-inch snowfall. Therefore we had no thoughts of canceling, figuring that at least we won't have to shake six inches of fog off every balsam fir on the 10-acre farm in order to see what they look like.
It's not surprising we made a wrong turn en route since visibility was reduced to 30 feet.
Our eyes were peeled for Stowe Road, but when we spotted a sign with a Christmas tree and an arrow pointing left, we confidently turned to follow it.
The fog quickly became so dense that we had to slow down even more to avoid unseen danger on the narrow twisting roadway lined with old stone walls and bisected by small creeks.
Suddenly we came upon a great stone castle with a tall, wrought-iron gate guarded by a strange creature who looked like a cross between an elf and a fairy. He was called a Felfry.
The Felfry, whose name was Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe, guided us through the fog to an enchanted forest beyond the castle with Christmas trees of every size, shape, and color. I wondered whether they were all atavistic intangibilities, although none of them were crowded by anonymity. Row after rainbow row of pines, firs, and spruces shimmered with an ethereal light shrouded in a milky gray mist. It was the most uncommonly beautiful sight ever. I had to pinch myself to make sure I was awake before grabbing my phone camera.
Through the fog we heard a murmur of music and laughter, which seemed to emanate from the middle of the forest. Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe told us there was live music and food there and invited us to mingle. After a few delightful hours of drinking, dining, dancing, and conversation, Husband and I regretfully bid farewell so we could complete our tree-cutting mission. Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe said we were welcome to take any tree we fancied. He waited patiently, nodded with approval as we made our choice, then refused to take compensation. He wouldn't even accept a tip, even after helping us load our tree onto the car's rooftop.
He lead us back to the gate and we all took more pictures and said we'd friend each other on Facebook. Finally with a wave and a honk, we pulled away back into the fog.
It lifted less than half a mile after we left that enchanting forest. We found our way back to the highway, returned home, and immediately put our lovely tree in water. Then Husband took me to see 'The Life of Pi' (after I falsely convinced him it was about mathematics); afterward both of us took a nice long nap.
I awoke first, feeling totally refreshed, then charged up my phone to upload the pictures.
Here is Husband and me with the tree:
Here is Husband and me with Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe:
Mitt Romney, President Obama, and I toast each other:
Here I am dancing with Daniel Craig:
Here is me with the castle in the background:
The Lady and the Tiger: Me with the co-star of 'The Life of Pi.'
We had been contemplating buying an artificial tree this year, so I'm glad we made the decision not to go that route. Perhaps this surrealistic experience foreshadows a fake tree next year, because surely no tree-cutting trip could compare to yesterday's 'mistical' journey.
Kind of like 'The Life of Pi.'
http://www.pell-farms.com/christmas.html
Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)
It was all because of the fog. Temperatures the night before had dropped below freezing before quickly rising with the sun. When the low-angled sunlight beat down on the snow-dusted ground, the result was a chowder of fog thicker than a South Boston accent.
Look, we already are experienced in picking out a tree after a six-inch snowfall. Therefore we had no thoughts of canceling, figuring that at least we won't have to shake six inches of fog off every balsam fir on the 10-acre farm in order to see what they look like.
It's not surprising we made a wrong turn en route since visibility was reduced to 30 feet.
Our eyes were peeled for Stowe Road, but when we spotted a sign with a Christmas tree and an arrow pointing left, we confidently turned to follow it.
The fog quickly became so dense that we had to slow down even more to avoid unseen danger on the narrow twisting roadway lined with old stone walls and bisected by small creeks.
Suddenly we came upon a great stone castle with a tall, wrought-iron gate guarded by a strange creature who looked like a cross between an elf and a fairy. He was called a Felfry.
The Felfry, whose name was Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe, guided us through the fog to an enchanted forest beyond the castle with Christmas trees of every size, shape, and color. I wondered whether they were all atavistic intangibilities, although none of them were crowded by anonymity. Row after rainbow row of pines, firs, and spruces shimmered with an ethereal light shrouded in a milky gray mist. It was the most uncommonly beautiful sight ever. I had to pinch myself to make sure I was awake before grabbing my phone camera.
Through the fog we heard a murmur of music and laughter, which seemed to emanate from the middle of the forest. Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe told us there was live music and food there and invited us to mingle. After a few delightful hours of drinking, dining, dancing, and conversation, Husband and I regretfully bid farewell so we could complete our tree-cutting mission. Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe said we were welcome to take any tree we fancied. He waited patiently, nodded with approval as we made our choice, then refused to take compensation. He wouldn't even accept a tip, even after helping us load our tree onto the car's rooftop.
He lead us back to the gate and we all took more pictures and said we'd friend each other on Facebook. Finally with a wave and a honk, we pulled away back into the fog.
It lifted less than half a mile after we left that enchanting forest. We found our way back to the highway, returned home, and immediately put our lovely tree in water. Then Husband took me to see 'The Life of Pi' (after I falsely convinced him it was about mathematics); afterward both of us took a nice long nap.
I awoke first, feeling totally refreshed, then charged up my phone to upload the pictures.
Here is Husband and me with the tree:
Here is Husband and me with Esodidfgfdiohgafuieoripe:
Mitt Romney, President Obama, and I toast each other:
Here I am dancing with Daniel Craig:
Here is me with the castle in the background:
The Lady and the Tiger: Me with the co-star of 'The Life of Pi.'
We had been contemplating buying an artificial tree this year, so I'm glad we made the decision not to go that route. Perhaps this surrealistic experience foreshadows a fake tree next year, because surely no tree-cutting trip could compare to yesterday's 'mistical' journey.
Kind of like 'The Life of Pi.'
http://www.pell-farms.com/christmas.html
Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)
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