Sunday, October 3, 2010

99 Luftballons and a Balm Ain't One

Relaxation.  The more you try to let go and lift up, the less you actually do.  Outside problems seem to overflow too easily these days (the US economy, the housing market, China-Japan territorial tensions, there's a giant spider now living right outside of my window.)




And for some reason, my method of yelling "RELAX!" in the mirror isn't working.


So, I decided to investigate alternative forms of healing and healthy activities.  This is what I have discovered, thus far.



Bath Balms:  Ask Yourself If You're Really Ready To Go All The Way


Recently, while on break from my latest theatre gig off San Francisco's illustrious Tenderloin I wandered up to Union square.  I remembered there were pretty things up there that I couldn't afford, but I was allowed to breathe next to.  So, I went.  

Before I could get all the way up to William Sonoma, I was stopped by the welcoming aroma of Lush, the UK-based handmade cosmetics shop.  I hadn't been in one since my last visit to London 3 years ago, so I figured why not?  I rarely indulge in cosmetics, let alone indulge.


The gal that helped me let me try out different soaps (one felt like I was rubbing jello on my hand but definitely wasn't edible. I know. I tried.) and bath balms that were reminiscent of an alka-seltzer pill, but much bigger (imagine the dosage amount for a young hippo).


I ended up choosing a delightfully pale blue bath balm ballsay it four times fast now, wrapped up with lavender, jasmine and tea leaves.


Upon coming home, delighted in my first-in-a-long-time-fully-indulgent-purchase-for-self, I immediately turned on the bath water full blast and watched as my homemade anti-acid burst into bubbles and foam.  The blue color that erupted from the thing alone was fascinating against the pale cream of the tub.  I was so excited and simultaneously overjoyed that I had found, bought and was about to experience something that was meant for relaxation.


However.

It became apparent rather quickly that freshly cut leaves, dried flowers and yes, twigs, are not exactly good to sit on top of, naked.  


And that's orifice, not to be confused with an orophus, which may be where Lush went wrong in the first place.  


-Beryl