Until I make the money for that kind of lifestyle (it's more expensive to live on a qualitative less, isn't it?), I have to shop with the cranky, suburbanite masses and eat with them, too. Actually, this is okay by me - I know I have the choice to make better choices and I like the masses, besides (except when, on occasion, I feel agoraphobic -and that I blame entirely on suburbs).
This weekend, I was at the mall(s). Oh yes, yes I was! I was a mall slut all weekend - buying things for a strange combination of co-workers, family members, and daughters of co-workers I don't really know that well. I worked in a mall intermittantly for seven years, but mostly to punch the clock and GTFOWML. I had no idea that Bath and Body Works actually became insanely cool. The last time I shopped there, I was smelling different kinds of vanilla hand lotions and blinded with nausea by the gingham picnic basket-ness of the entire store. Excuse me, but, when did that place change and begin selling ridiculously delicious-smelling Henri Bendel candles?! Everything in there is so-o-o luxurious; I hope my friends and family think so, too. A candle that smells like firewood: are you kidding me? Yum-yum-yummity-yum (don't worry dears - I know this is one helluva bizarre scent; I might buy this for myself after the holidays have subsided, as it is a small fortune for a candle: $26):
And there were other strange surprises, like cursing ice-queenish grannies, doors held open for me, nice handle bags for my packages, and a peppermint hot chocolate on the house (thanks, Starbucks). I may or may not venture out again - so far, though, so good. Now it's time for some Sunday night food + wine + perhaps, oh perhaps, another quick jaunt to my nearest mall, as it closes at 9 p.m. Skip, skip, skip!
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