Actually, it is Brenda's—but I've stolen it, you see. I first applied this scrumptiously aromatic bliss last February, and fought the urge to use a rubber spatula and my tongue to clean the beauty treatment from my visage. It isn't made for eating, but you could've fooled my nose...and she isn't so easily deceived.

I brought a bottle with me for this trip; the impenetrability of the hard water around here is legendary. Last night, I applied a layer as we watched Primal Fear. I situated myself on the couch, in plain view of my husband. Miles looked at me in a long and scrutinizing gaze and offered a dual comment/question, obviously unsure of which he wanted it to be. "You have a mask on...or something?"

I looked at him, thinking thousands of sarcastic replies all at once, but my heart wasn't in it. Not...really. "Nope," I replied, pretending to be unaware of the goop on my face. Meanwhile, my stomach growled at direction from my olfactory gland, which was channeling quite the articulate little description of the foodstuff thought to be imminent.

"If you don't have a mask on, you look a little sick," Debbie added from her chair.

Brenda looked over and added, "Naw, she looks fine. Skin like porcelain. Porcelain!" They all shrugged and returned to the movie. Five minutes later, I removed the mask and my tongue's temptation with the broad swipes of a soft cloth. I returned to my place on the couch feeling girlish and attractive after the skin nourishing treatment. Brenda lolled her head back over to me and cringed. "Do you have a mask on?"