Ain't She Sweet

My school has little torture devices called "activities". They're the hippie version of extracurriculars. What was my activity you ask? Dance. I'm talking "step, shuffle, ball change, ball change" dance. With jazz hands and everything.
Okay. So the 85 year-old instructor (with a broken arm no-less) never used the words "jazz hands" but they were there.
So, it was less than half an hour to the big performance (make that flop. it seems I don't know how to kick in sync with the two boys walking next to me) and the girls were crowded in the bathroom passing my deodorant around. Then Josie dumped a bag full of makeup on the bathroom counter. Of course she had this fabulous powder and concealer from Neutrogena. The last time I wore powder it was cover girl and some how or other they made it even paler than my face. But Neutrogena did it right. This powder matched every girls face, as in tan Erica's and my pinkish-whitish face. It didn't feel like a powder either. Try it. It works and it treats blemishes.