Unlucky 13...

...my arse. I just wanted to share it with the world. There's nothing unlucky about my Friday the 13th. The salon I go to had it's 10th "birthday" today and they were handing out freebies and vouchers. I have a collection of Dermalogica samples, €20 gift voucher, and I got facemapping done for free.

If you haven't had facemapping done before, a word of advice; don't do it. They stick your head into a little box where you can see yourself in some kind of UV light. Everything shows up. I mean everything. Remember that holiday you had 6 years ago when you got badly sunburnt? Even if you don't, your face does remember. Unless you have spent your entire life in the shade or have slathered on factor 50 every time you step outside, your face is going to be covered in little dark spots. They look like freckles' evil twins. And they're everywhere. Apparently dehydrated skin comes up purple. Needless to say, I looked like Barney with skin cancer. It wasn't pretty. I have resolved to cleanse, tone and moisturise religiously every day. We'll see how long I last this time. Standing record is 11 days.

I'm saving the best for last, obviously. I opened the glove box of my car to put some unnecessary crap from my handbag in there, and I was greeted by a lonely, forgotten unopened bag of Pick'n Mix! I bought it on wednesday when shopping with Mr S, shoved it into the glove box and forgot all about it. I smiled all the way home.

Unlucky 13 my arse.