Wednesday, 24 August 2011

Another catch up

I haven’t blogged in ages (notice how most of my posts state this?) so I thought I’d do a little catch up post just so you all know I’m alive (after recent encounters I thank my lucky stars for this) and still attempting to blog.
I do have excuses for my absence. I’ve endured ten rather disappointing days in Turkey stranded beside a plastic fantastic poolside, complete with screeching children, industrial food and a whole host of Jeremy Kyle show-esque characters. Hell on earth my friends. I know I sound beyond miserable ( I do enjoy a bit of negativity) but oh my gosh, somebody tell me, where is the enjoyment in sitting on a stiff sun lounger for six hours solid, sweating like a pig on thanks giving beneath a scorching sun while being attacked by a mini army of mosquitoes?! Give me an iced coffee, a little rain shower and an episode of Eastenders over that any day. Maybe this type of holiday would have been more enjoyable had I had some company capable of rubbing two brain cells together but, instead I was surrounded by holiday makers who seemed to have learnt the English language from a different dictionary to myself, one that lacked the letter ‘t’ and included some rather repulsive words. By day two I had acquired a second knee on my right leg due to a hideously inflamed mosquito bite, a vile rash on my left arm courtesy of my florescent orange ‘all inclusive’ band (let me tell you, that tacky disgrace was ripped off after 48 hours of shame) and I was reduced to crying silent tears of despair beneath my sunglasses (not that I’m one to over dramatize a situation, obviously.)

However, the worst part of this holiday had to be the day I made the grave mistake of visiting the local market. I was shuffling along behind crowds of people, who are evidently yet to discover the quirks of a stick of Dove deodorant, and desperately trying to keep up with my mum who was, most probably, attempting to loose me when I felt a set of fingers twisting around my upper arm. I turned around to be greeted with one of the creepiest faces I’ve known a man to own (a discovery that set alarms bell ringing straight away). He stood still for around 30 seconds with my arm still in tow and I began to wonder if he was ever going to speak or if I’d managed to paralyse him with the shock of my ugliness. Finally, he whispered in one of those voices that belong in horror movies and horror movies alone ‘are you from paradise?’. Oh dear, somebody needs a trip to the Turkish equivalent of Specsavers. I explained that no I wasn’t and I must get going because my mum was still storming off and I was quickly losing sight of her, but he didn’t care much for my request and before I know it my other arm is being held by a companion of his. By now I was starting to lose my humorous stance on the situation and I could feel hot tears building up behind my eyes at the thought of my year 7 school photo being published all over the news above a ‘missing, possibly stolen’ type headline. It was when they started talk of going back to their apartment that I was getting somewhat desperate and tried to pull myself away but with little success as even my 9 year old brother possesses more strength than me. After 5 minutes of them asking me some rather, erm, personal questions (which I did not answer for the record) I realised that now was not the time to consider dignity and thus began my desperate screeches of ‘MUM’ at the top of my voice. Did she hear? Oh no, don’t be stupid. She was too busy god know where in the market, pondering over the disgusting act of counterfeiting designer goods than to worry about little old me being held hostage by two foreign men who had the same level of personal hygiene as my dog. This screeching went on for around two minutes and astonishingly nobody seemed to think that the 16 year old girl crying for help in the middle of the market was abnormal and so left me to it. To my utter relief I noticed our holiday rep approaching from the distance as he had been stirred my desperate cries on despair (nice of somebody to notice). He began to explain to my capturers that actually you know, grabbing teenage girls is kind of frowned upon and could land them in a bit of trouble and all that. You don’t say?! Reluctantly they let me go leaving me standing awkwardly besides my saviour who was evidently panicking like mad at the concept of having to comfort a distraught 16 year old girl. This served a very uncomfortable 10 minutes as he helped me search for my mum. Eventually we found her pondering over what anklet matched the colour on her toe nails better, she looked slightly relieved to see me still alive and everything and after being nice about the situation for a whole 2 minutes she looked at me and announced ‘Tessa, you really should stop walking off like that.’ Oh my fucking god.

So to conclude, I hate holidaying with the family because every year I’m left trailing behind in a bored trance while my family continue on like I don’t exist. Anybody else had any similar holiday experiences or am I the only one who prefers rainy England over being stuck so closely to the parents for ten days? Let me know!
& good luck to anybody who’s getting results tomorrow!

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Lush’s guide to happy feet (review and shameful story)

I was browsing the lush website last week when I spotted Lush’s new ‘happy feet’ set (well I say new, it hasn’t actually got new products in it). The set contained a pot of Volcano foot mask, a pot of fair trade foot lotion and a stepping stone scrub. The idea is that you use each product in stages and, in turn, are left with super softer and (more importantly for the open toed shoe season) presentable feet. I thought I’d talk my mum into buying the set for herself and then steal some for a quick review. I’ll just go into some depth with the foot mask because that was the more involved treatment and I have nothing much to say about the other two, I mean they were ok but certainly nothing worth waffling about.
Volcano foot mask

This product was the one that most interested me in the set, Lush claims that it’s a ‘thick effective mask to draw out deep down dirt.’ Up until now I’ve never heard of nor considered the idea of applying a mask to my feet so I was pretty excited about giving this a go (I lead a sad life). When reading previous reviews I thought this would be pretty simple, just slap some on your feet, wrap in plastic and wait 10 minutes before washing it off however, I soon discovered that there was a particular etiquette to applying this so take note and don’t make the same mistakes I did!
Mistake #1 – Choosing my white carpeted bedroom as my destination for application.
Lush were right to describe this mask as ‘thick’. Honestly, it really is! When applying it I soon realised that it dried and solidified really quickly leaving huge clumps of it stubbornly attached to your hands. This meant it was a bit of a nightmare to put either the plastic bags or cling film (I personally choose cling film as my wrapping, deciding that a Tesco’s bag would have set of an unintentional tramp look far too well) around your feet. I therefore found myself stranded in the middle of my room with one foot weighed down by a spicy smelling clay mask hence being unable to walk. At this point I knew I had two decisions. I could either do the unthinkable and place my foot on the white carpet and forever listen to the outrage of my mother (‘do you know how much I paid for that carpet?!’) or I could hop like a demented creature to the bathroom. The latter option was undeniably more shameful however, needs must and I began to tap into my primary school speciality of being able to hop the egg and spoon race (yes, you heard me right, I was forced to hop the egg and spoon race by a sour faced teacher who should thank her lucky stars that, aged 9, I didn’t know the number for childline). Luckily all that practice had paid off and I got to the bathroom and managed to awkwardly wash my hands and wrap the cling film. By now I could feel the mask heating up over my foot and I was pretty confident that it was doing what it was meant to be doing. I quickly applied the mask to my other foot, washed my hands and wrapped the cling film as I had done before leaving me with a look that I’m sure will be a huge hit in autumn 2011.

Mistake #2 – Ignoring ‘VIRGIN MAN PM’ written on the calendar. I applied this mask and cling film duo thinking I was home alone with only El Barno (a black Labrador who is, shamefully, the most attractive member of our household) present to judge me. This was true until I heard a knock at the door by which time I’m thinking ‘omg fml’ and a selection of other negative acronyms that I’ve picked up from my time searching the urban dictionary. I opened the door to find a man (somewhat attractive may I add) carrying a tool box and wearing a virgin media polo shirt. Now on the social awkward scale I would say that, like myself, he was around an eight. However, the presence of my cling film filled feet (nice bit of alliteration there) rocketed his (and mine) awkwardness up to a big fat 10. Even worse was the fact that he didn’t even acknowledge them but instead pretended it was normal which was very courteous of him but left a very uncomfortable atmosphere. After what felt like years but in reality was around 30 seconds he told me that he had received a letter of complaint and was here to change our box. Erm yeah, I did send a letter of complaint (a favourite pass time of mine) – last summer. What is it they say? The ship’s already sailed my friend. Usually I would point such a poor service out but I just didn’t feel it was socially acceptable for the idiot/ tramp with cling film plastered to the soles of their feet to have an opinion. I expressed my outrage by not offering him a drink and left him in the living room while I ran upstairs to quickly wash the mask off. By the time I got down he was done, said his goodbyes and hurried out of the door.
So did it work?
Well, over all I would say that the mask has improved the state of my feet. After first taking the mask off it was like walking on air and the skin on the bottom of my feet had definitely softened. I was also pretty pleased with the way it had cleaned them, successfully removing discoloured areas (a result of wearing open shoes for the past month) and leaving them baby pink. They’re fit for two weeks in Turkey now and I’ve already ordered my second pot of ‘volcano’ so I can carry on using it throughout the summer. Try it out yourself!
Ha, I’ve only just realised how long this post is! Thank you for reading!