Do I have Sucker written across my forehead?

I swear to myself I'm not buying. Every.Single.Time. I get invited to one of those at-home-party thingies and I say, "Nope, not this time, no not me. I'm not spending a single dime."

"Ha!" that's what I'm saying now. Anyone got a mirror and a baby wipe so I can wash the big old SUCKER imprint off of my forehead?

My neighbor and good friend was launching her Arbonne career this evening. She saw my mind working on an excuse the second she asked me to come. She spoke faster than I could. "Don't feel obligated, really. Come, drink a glass of wine, if anything it's a chance to get out of the house." Sure, yea, right. Okay.

What she failed to realize, hmmm, or maybe she did, is that it wasn't a glass. It wasn't even two, I think it was almost the whole bottle. Well, minus one glass someone else had. And theirs was a small glass. You can't expect someone NOT to buy something when you are liquoring them up! She's evil. But smart. Very, very smart. She'll be climbing that corporate pyramid quickly.

So, I whip out the old credit card and say, "What the heck." Yea, to the tune of $100 worth of skin care products for the woman who uses liquid soap to wash her face! I know you are all cringing, everyone at the party did when I shared that little tid-bit. But if it's so bad for you then why do I always get compliments on my "beeeeuuutifulll skin"? I know, I know, I'm gonna be 40. It's time to start filling up the medicine cabinet with lotions, creams, and efferdent. The stuff did feel good on my skin, I must admit. And I do love the smell of the body salt scrub. I was feeling better about my purchases.

I came home and told Mr. Schmitty to feel both of my arms. "Which feels better, come on, which one is softer?"

"The right feels better."

Crap, wrong arm.