Most days I try to put on some sort of make-up to try to “enhance” my looks though I doubt it does me any good. I’ll admit it makes me feel better to put on a little blush, some lipstick and definitely mascara. I used to do it everyday without fail but I guess as I grow older I am starting to care less and less what others think of my looks and more and more what I think. Going to the store in my pajamas, fuzzy house shoes, and eyeglasses is proof of that! If I feel alright then who cares what I am wearing?
So this morning I had plans to run some errands and in deciding not to go out as a total slob I stepped up to my bathroom mirror where I apply the pretty pink and neutral hues of color to my face—hopefully just enough so as to look as though I was born with such beauty. I applied the foundation, my pink blush, eye shadow and lipstick in that order until I came to my eyelashes.
Ah, the eyelashes, they deserve special attention. They must be curled not only so they look nice and long but because curling opens my eyes making me look awake (something I rarely am). I place my lashes in between the curler, close it, then as I begin to open it…#$@!! The tiny crevice at the end of the curler is holding my outside corner lash hostage causing me excruciating pain! Who the hell invented this thing in the first place?! After walking around the house with a five inch metal object attached to my right eye looking for scissors small enough to rescue my poor lashes and then freeing them, I decide to take the chance to curl them again. $#%@!!??? Why the hell did I DO THAT?! My lash got stuck again! OK, I’m prepared; I have the scissors right in front of me. Third time is a charm. Slowly and carefully placed they curled beautifully so I could take on the outside world. When I left the house I felt like I was lookin’ pretty good, but I’ve been cursing that curler all day. Sometimes beauty does come at a price…next time I go out, I’m just washing my face.