I’ve just scrubbed my face with a mini loofah and slathered copious layers of lotion on my skin. I feel dried out, despite the 40 ounces of cream I’ve applied at $100 a pop. I mean dry -- as in my skin feels like it’s been lying dormant in a crypt since the beginning of the pharaoh age. I look in the mirror and I see bloodshot eyes with slate colored circles underneath, little webs of red lacy blood veins cover the apples of my cheeks, and tiny new wrinkles have been etched around my eyes with a mini chisel by efficient little Age Elves while I've slept.