Yes, I have fallen behind in my quest to become more girly. Or well, as girly enough as it takes not to have a heart attack when I enter the makeup aisle of a drug store. I don’t do hot very well so when summer comes, I am not likely to put much effort into doing my hair or wearing makeup. I rock the snood, wear sunscreen, and just try and get through the day without melting. But the Birchbox still comes. Here’s this month’s offering.
This month’s box is inspired by Glamour.
I haven’t tried any of this stuff yet. However, I am proud to say I am completely aware of what mints do and what ear buds do. XD The rest I can figure out as I go.
I think what gives me the most pause about what I’ve been getting is the perfume. I can over do make up and just wipe it off but too much perfume can down every breathing person within a 20 foot radius if I’m not careful. o_O Of all the items I’ve gotten, those are the most likely to sit unused or be given away. Maybe I’ll hold another contest and in addition to my book, I’ll give away some of the samples I’ve been hoarding. They’re not bad; I enjoy the scents. I’m just a body spray sort of gal, not perfume. It’s lighter, cheaper, and hard to overuse. XD
I was so very tempted to alter the path my own series will take in order to sink to the lowest common denominator, which seems to be an asshole main guy and a brainless main girl who screw for reasons unknown because neither are attractive to the reader so how they are attracted to each other is a mystery. But I refuse. I’d planned for my series to get more sexual at it’s own pace in ways that make sense and don’t leave the reader wanting to hurl and throw the book across the room.
Am I jealous? Hellz yeah, I am! The author is laughing all the way to the bank. And more power to her. But I’m not changing how I write in order to sell books. It’s not why I write, its not how my characters demand to be written. I may never get a movie deal, I may never sell more than 50 books a month, I may never get a stranger running up to me to proclaim how much they have loved my book but I refuse to sell my writing soul in the hopes of achieving literary success. Because then what real achievement is there?
I’m not completely hating on the books; there are plenty of other people to do that. XD I wish the author all the success in the world (wish granted, it seems) but I have no intention of reading these books; so I won’t trash em. When something is touted as “mommy porn” or “Twilight for moms” I run in the other direction. *shudder* So if you’ve read it and liked it, bully for you.