2. Ask for a sample of the night cream and day cream and under eye lotion.
3. Use the stuff.
4. Rinse out the containers.
5. Once your Carmex (or toothpaste, or neosporin) is at the point where you can no longer squeeze another drop,
6. Cut the top off,
7. And squeeze into saved Laura Mercier jars.
If I had, like, lots of fucking time, I'd bedazzle those fucking jars. Heck, I'd bedazzle my damn fucking face if I had the fucking time. Maybe that's what's so irritating about Lady Gaga. Who has the time to bedazzle their face during a recession? "I can't get behind this Lady Gaga," I say to my dad in the car after picking him up from work.
He shakes his head in disbelief, "Lady Gaga ... during a recession of all things." He never makes sense, until days later I'm cutting off the top of my Carmex, and it makes perfect sense. I'm stuck wondering why it took me so long.
When I'm not working, I'm delivering pizza to people with goats in their front yards. Did you know that it can be raining and foggy at the same time? Neither did I - until last night when my dad and I drove the kind of road where a person dumps bodies and shoots drugs. We backed up over mud puddles and potholes of unknown depth, knocking over someone's snowman. Then a guy yelled at me because I wouldn't drive over his homemade bridge to get to his house.
When I'm not picking him up from work, we're delivering pizza's together. Our whole relationship takes place in cars. It is as it should be, since we live in California.
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