So as I was opening my birthday gifts from my family this weekend, I realized something.
I am a hypocrite.
And yet somehow, I'm ok with that.
You see, I got some extremely rockin' gifts, and my squeals of delight could most likely be heard down the block. I got an awesome Brighton wallet/purse thingy that is so cute I could just hang it up on the wall and never use it. I got a rather large (for me, anyway) check. I almost swooned upon viewing the Sephora gift card, visions of spending hours at those yummy displays dancing in my head.
I know you are asking yourself, did Gina not, like three posts ago, complain about the rampant consumerism of Americans? That we are too obsessed with things? That we buy things to make us happy, thinking that they actually have that ability?
I'll answer that for you. I certainly did.
But less than two hours ago, I was feverishly looking at the Sephora website for new products in anticipation of my planned visit tomorrow. I was actually placing in order of importance, the things I would buy with my large check.
Do I get a pass because they were gifts?
Allrighty then, I'll just pick up this piece of red fabric I happen to have here and sew it on my shirt right this minute.
So if you happen to be at a Sephora tomorrow and see a woman with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a large scarlet H on her chest trying on the latest Stila lipstick, that would be moi.