Siddity In The City

Sweet baby Jesus, I've lost the will to live.

And by "to live," I mean shop, eat delicious fancy things, drink, or generally otherwise spend money on beautiful frivolities. Case in point: I've had about 3 days off now (technically it was supposed to be 2, but nobody told me I'd be needed that first day and it never occurred to me to call in to check because, damn, I thought I had the day off, I mean, did I not have over 100 hours on call last week, jeebus? So woops, my bad. *snort*) and I am only today doing anything besides clean, sleep, watch DVDs or workout. And I almost didn't make it today. I mean, I was planning to spend the afternoon shopping just because I finally have the time off and I can, but I opted to take a nap. A nap. I finally dragged my bleary-eyed arse out around 6, hoping that actually seeing lovely frivolous things would perk me up. First stop, Housing Works, a thrift shop on Columbus and 76thish. I've been to Housing Works one other time--when I first moved to the city and needed flatware. I got a nifty bridal-worthy set of service for four for $30. Today I popped in just before closing and only managed to pick up some CDs--this one, this one, this one and this one. Then I moseyed down the street peeking into accessory-shop windows, but nothing really tickled my fancy. There was, in fact, no fancy to tickle. Not a single goddamned sparkly thing set my heart aflutter. Neither shoe, nor hat, nor a spangly, dangly bauble. I meh'd my way down Columbus and then took a little detour down to Broadway, stopping only in Off Broadway Boutique (139 W72nd, where the card reads "If you're the kind of woman who enjoys being a woman, craves caviar before noon, gets a kick out of sculpture, and loves making an entrance, Off Broadway is definitely for you!") for a lookie-lou before sulking off to Urban for what I thought would be a spirit-rousing session of sneering and disdain, and, with any luck, enormously discounted housing items. Ahem. Not to be. I got there, found most of the goodies--er, trend-monkey schlock--no better nor worse than I have ever seen, and couldn't muster a single genuine sneer. In fact, I almost paid full price for the "Best Girls Are Black" pillow. Craziness. I didn't, of course, but the impulse was there, and I am mildly ashamed. In a last-ditch effort, I hied myself over to the Sephora at Columbus Circle for prettifiers and yummy-smelling things. This always puts me in a good mood. Always. Er. Now I have to amend that to usually. Don't get me wrong. I did some damage up in that piece. But none of it made me tingle in my secret places, if you knows what I means. My take: Lorac lip/cheek Sheer Wash in Sheer Emotion--for the upcoming winter, when I go all pasty-yellah, because when I can be assed to prettify, it usually consists of mascara, lip balm and this kind of thing, period. Philosophy Lemonade shampoo/shower gel/bubble bath--I'm a lemon-citrus-ginger-sweetness scent whore, okay? If I were allowed one scent on earth to wear forever, I think I'd go citrus, because you almost cannot go wrong. A teeny travel-sized Fekkai shea butter hair mask to treat my locks overnight tonight, after my lemonande bath, o'course. Peter Thomas Roth Potent Botanical Skin Brightening Gel Complex, to keep spotting to a minimum--I started on it last summer and never went back. Brightening, indeed. PTR Ultra-lite Oil-Free Sunblock, SPF30--because what the sam-hell is the point of bleaching out your freckles and spots with the other stuff it you're going to subject your skin to spottifying sunrays, anyway? L'Occitane tinted shea butter balm in Miel, a perfect nude pinky-beige I only really started to perk up when I hit the Bed, Bath and Beyond on 60whateverth and Broadway on the way home. I got a bunch of magnetic spice tins , some cutting boards and a two-liter pitcher in which to make jugs of iced instant green tea, given to me by my best bud J, who picked it up when she went to visit her folks in Korea. Holy hell, I was excited about all that. I damn-near drooled on the locked glass case with all the Wusthoff knives, leered in the general direction of several small, colorful kitchen appliances, and almost cried when I realized they didn't have my Swiffer refills. My god, the emotion! Go figure. I'm gonna go take my bath and curl up with some tea and a book like the crotchety old bootch I apparently am. Tomorrow, I'll try to be more exciting. Maybe I'll see that virgin movie and actually buy snacks at the theater or something equally outrageous. Oh, yeah, another soap-castmember sighting. I dunno what show. For chrissakes, they're everywhere, these people. WHEN WILL I GET TO SEE SOMEONE I LURVE?! I demand the opportunity to make a fool of myself in public! Ah, feck.

posted by Sid @ 8/25/2005 10:02:00 PM