i was an aveda store celebrity.
this last weekend, i pretty much lived the southern california consumption dream of driving hundreds of miles while staying within one metropolitan area, and visiting four different shopping malls, including going to one of them twice. i went to two different Banana Republics, two different Williams-Sonomas, a Pottery Barn, a Crate and Barrel, and three Ann Taylors. I went to Pier1 Imports twice, and Cost Plus once.

i was looking, to no avail, for the perfect utensil caddy. i guess they don't sell those at Banana Republic.

the highlight of the ridiculously unfruitful weekend-long shopping mall safari, however, wasn't the teflon-coated pastry cutter, it was the Aveda store visit.

erik was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and happened to come with me. usually, he loves shopping. loves it! but when we stepped in the store, the primary purpose for our walk though The Valley of the Shadow of Fashion, erik turned to me and said, "please don't take forever." he then slouched on the bamboo makeover chair, sipped some complimentary "calming tea" (mmm), and just sort of audibly rolled his eyes if i happened to ask him for suggestions or advice.

at one point, i happened to mention to the worker (you know, the Male Cosmetics Employee type) that i had filled up my punch card, which grants me $40 of free shit. (this also means that i, over the past few years, have spent far too much at aveda.) all of a sudden, it was as if i'd unwrapped the golden ticket. he told another worker. who told other workers. workers told customers. customers told their husbands. "she filled her punch card! her! over there! see, look!" new customers scrutinized me, wondering if the condition of my skin/hair/makeup/whatever was worth it, after i'd obviously used a lot of aveda stuff.

outside of lifting me up on one of those bamboo makeover chairs, the aveda employees had successfully made me feel special and important. they also gave me an extra punch on a new card.

here's to another $400, aveda.