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Sephora Visit, Ladies and Gents, this was crucial.

I recently posted this on my Xanga blog, thought I could share this somewhere where it might be more relevant. Today had to be the worst day of life. Not only did my spanish exam go terribly, but my consultation at Sephora was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I go in, as confidant as I am about my face finally clearing up, ready to get a flawless coverage with the help from some experts. Boy was I in for it. My mom went first, and was treated with extreme care. Switching this color to that color, to this foundation to that powder. Continuous trial and error attempts to perfect her face. And then, it is my turn. I expect the same friendly treatment. I was eager. Little did I know that I would not be helped by the same girl. Instead, I was helped by the b*tchiest, most inconsiderate, could-careless what you walk out of here with.. well b*tch. It was embarrassing. It was the most embarrassing situation to be in. Never have I ever walked outside of my house without face make-up. That is how bad my face is. Anyway, I willingly took my make-up off in the middle of a busy, and very popular make-up store. It was a hot spot, and here I was sitting right in the middle of it with red and brown marks plastering my face. At first glance from my consultant, I knew I was not going to get the same treatment that my lucky mother received. She did not even care. She covered half of my face with a thin layer of powder foundation, and the other half in a different shade. That was it. Have a good day I hope you choose one of them. I can give you a lousy little sample that will take me almost fifteen minutes to put together because I am such a lazy b*tch that I will take my sweet ass time for your convenience. No problem. I cried. The first time in a long time. And I had to hold it in because for one, we were in a public place, and two, because I did not want to bring my self-esteem down (once again) because for so long I have been telling myself that it will be ok and it will go away one day. I have been telling myself that for three years now. Each and everyday I am so self-consious about how I look and if I have had a bad breakout. It tears me apart and it tears my social life to pieces. It is damn f*cking hard. And the thing that bothers me is that I willingly took my mask off for that ignorant careless b*tch. Never have I showed my face to anyone. That is the exact reason why I do not want to. Her reaction, her carelessness, and her ignorance. She is being reported to the head department and there is no doubt about that. I am just going to try and enjoy my sixty dollar make-up, kid cudi's stories, and my winter break the best way I can: With the few friends that I have and with a fake smile, a full-covered face, and hopefully some carelessness thrown in there. Happy Holidays. **Be careful who you reveal your inner feelings to because they can easily tear you down.




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