I think it’s going to be a good year. I like the number 11…I have yet to overdraw my checking account (yes, I realize it’s only January 5th)…my Christmas food baby (whom I affectionately and little bit creepily named Lech) disappeared…we’re good to go.
Not so much with the blogging, though. Probably because it is, in fact, 2011. And not 2004. The last time anyone who was remotely cool blogged.
I’m working on a book review for tomorrow, but in the meantime enjoy this entry that I sort of wrote a week ago and just never posted.
Oh. And I hope your 2011 is going well so far too.
(See? I’M NICE.)
I’m rather into makeup. I have been since I was fourteen. Only junior high girl who could do a perfect eyeliner line, natch. I’m not shallow, and it’s not that I think I look particularly good in the makeup…I’m just into it.
Weirdly, in my head, this isn’t how I think of myself. Even though for the last nine or ten years I’ve worn skirts and high heels and makeup and hell, I’ve been known to put on mascara before I go for a run in the morning (okay, not this morning), I still instinctively feel like the thirteen-year-old version of me who was typically into horses and wore riding boots all the time and smelled like a barn most days because I worked in one (yeah, that broke like twelve child labor laws, I’m pretty sure) and asked for a grooming set for Christmas.
The obsession portion of my interest in horseback riding ended around the time I was 13. Because even though I like to think of myself as a special little flower whose life is totally unique and fascinating to everyone who hears tell of it, yeah, it was pretty typical. I realized that while sports bras are unbelievably helpful and necessary if you maybe woke up one day a B cup and still planned on bouncing around on a huge animal for hours straight, they are not terribly attractive.
(Okay. Maybe I am a little bit shallow.)
ANYWAY. That’s over, I know it’s weird that that is still how I think of myself…whatever. Moving on.
I received a Bare Minerals eyeshadow and mascara gift set for Christmas. I was fricking thrilled. So thrilled that I decided that I LOVED Bare Minerals! Bare Minerals was THE BOMB! (Oh, hey, another thing you haven’t heard since 2004!) I was NEVER wearing EXCEPT Bare Minerals EVER AGAIN OMG! I needed MORE Bare Minerals!
So I hopped in my car and drove to Bayshore post-haste.
I was planning on buying more lipgloss and maybe some eyeshadow. The eyeshadow was fantastic, and I am a whore for lipgloss. However, as awesome as Bare Minerals totally was in my book, I was definitely not buying foundation. No sir. I don’t like mineral foundation; it doesn’t work on me; it’s always too dark; it disappears by 9 am; absolutely not.
So when the salesguy (who was annoyingly prettier than me) offered to do a color match, I scoffed. Pssh. No. I’m fine. I like my makeup…well, that one looks pretty light. And only *a disturbingly high percentage of my paycheck*, you say?
“We have an excellent return policy.”
“I don’t think…oh really? So if it’s too dark like every other foundation in the world I could return it?”
“Absolutely. But I think you’re actually a lot darker than you think.”
Bahahahaha. Uh. No. I’m not. I know I don’t look inordinately pale, but I totally am. Seriously. I have found one (1) foundation that didn’t make my head appear like a totally separate entity from the rest of my body. In nine years of trying. Pretty Salesguy began applying strips of foundation to show how he was right.
“See! You’re actually a medium!”
I have never been a medium anything in my life.
Let’s go over to the natural light, Pretty Salesguy.
“Oh. Wait. No, you’re right. You’re actually the fairest color we have.”
Uh. YEAH. Don’t try to tell me about my ruddy complexion, Pretty Salesguy. I may be a pushover who’s leaving here with foundation, primer, moisturizer, a brush set, and the lipgloss I originally came in for and do you have that eye cream in a larger size? but I KNOW MY CRAZY IRISH SKIN.
So. I bought the foundation. In the lightest color they offer. And…well, not only am I not returning it, I’m thinking of how many body parts I could sell in order to replenish my stock.
Thus concludes the Kathleen is Being Ridiculous and Fiscally Irresponsible AGAIN portion of this blog. Have a lovely day.