Tuesday, September 29, 2009

One Spritz!!

I am gagging.

Until recently, I thought it was just men who had a hard time grasping the concept of cologne moderation. Then the Temp started here.

It's not every day, but at least once a week she breezes to her desk in a thick fog of perfume, leaving everyone gasping for air in her wake. Lucky me, I get to sit right across from her all day! She hasn't been here 15 minutes and I already have a headache. Plus, she has literally sprinted past me 4 times already. It's like she's trying to stir up a hurricane of her own stench.

Not that it makes a difference whether it's Designer Impostors or Chanel #5, but I must mention that her particular eau de toilet reminds me of someone's crazy, old Aunt Myrtle. It smells like a base of baby powder layered with herbs, and it is in no way pleasing to the nostrils. And trust me, it's even worse when you can taste it.

Therefore, I thought it my duty to get the word out: ONE spritz of perfume, please! I'm of the opinion that no one should be able to smell you unless they're close enough to hug you. Especially when people are forced to be around you all day (like at WORK, for example??). At home, you can bathe in it for all I care, but PLEASE consider others before subjecting the general public to your odor.

-Kitty

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Kabuki Death Mask

I was on the dreaded lunch hour in need of some new face make-up. As I bobbed and weaved with the old-timers on the road to Macy's, I was excited at the prospect of some new make-up.

I confidently walked up to the Clinque counter. ( face make-up of choice) I didn't want to got to the MAC counter and come out looking like a middle aged stripper,and I felt I was just WAY to young for Lancome and besides Clinque has always been there for me.

I was greeted warmly by Juanita, she was pleasant and understanding and asked me lots of questions on what I was looking for. I thought, this is good, Juanita is older than me, she understands my needs more so than "Syndi" with and "i" would. As I was discussing what I look for in face make up ( eg: light, NEVER heavy, not trying to pretend I have perfect skin, just a touch of cover, with a hint of sunblock)Juanita thought this certain type of make up would work well for my needs and could she apply some to my face? SURE! Why not! OH LORD! Juanita broke out a PAINT BRUSH! ( if I am lying I am dying) and proceeded to dump about a 1/4 of a cup of make up on the back of her hand and started PAINTING it on my face! PAINTING PEOPLE! NOT JOKING! Oh, and she only did half my face! Half of my face looking like a beige tarp, and the other looked like a white and pink blotchy road map. OMG! WTF?

Being the nice person that I am, I couldn't hurt Juanita's feelings, she was SO proud. So I ask, "would you mind doing the other half".. ( FAMOUS LAST WORDS) she again, dumped about 1/2 a cup of make up on the back of her hand and proceed to PAINT the other half of my face. PEOPLE! MY LIPS WERE GONE! MY WRINKLES EMPHASIZED! I was an inch deep in Clinque makeup. Juanita, steps back looks at her handy work and asked if I wanted some lipstick! I quickly said NO! OH, HELL NO ( in my brain).

I quickly made my purchase ( YES! I BOUGHT THE CRAP), and realized I had to still go get lunch! Me and my KABUKI DEATH MASK had to walk through the mall to Subway. The poor kid at Subway he didn't know where to look. He took my order, refused to look me in the eye, but I don't blame him, how could he? I looked like a nut, one of those bag ladies with their make up all smeared on their face, all I needed was some lipstick in a shocking pink and I would have been committed.

With my head down, I ran out of the mall and to my car, called my friend and vented. I looked down at my cell phone it was COVERED in make up, still I swear there is make up on the keys of my phone. I looked in the mirror as I was driving and didn't recognize myself. Now I still had to walk into work! I walked as fast as I could to the bathroom, and got a real good look at Juanita's handy work! JEEZ JUANITA! Was your previous profession, painter. There wasn't enough toilet paper in the bathroom to get it off. I felt GROSS.

The best part is, I ask the guy at the front desk, if I look horrible with all that make up, and you know what he says? "Oh, it looks good". WTH? Men just don't understand.

-Katherine - wearer of the Kabuki Death Mask