"When I was in grad school," I said, carefully attempting to keep one eye open so I could watch myself clumsily apply eyeshadow just at the lash line. Frowning darkly at the effort, I closed both eyes, swiped some on and warily blinked to view the results. Shrugging, I continued my story. "I had my hair done and asked for the complimentary make-up freshening."
Tiny Friend nodded, gracefully accenting her wide eyes as the Mary Kay consultant looked on proudly. I glared down at the color before sighing once more. "She went a little crazy - lots of foundation, heavy eyes, dark mouth. Thanks," I interrupted myself to take the tiny vial of lip color that was put on my palette. "I went back to the lab, walked in the door - hair wildly curly, makeup extremely done - and watched Nicer, Taller and Smarter turn around. Their mouths fell open," I remembered, watching my lips curve in the tiny mirror that allowed me to view the color I absently applied. "And Taller finally said, 'Whoa,'" I recalled, smile widening. "'What happened to you?!'"
TinyFriend and MaryKayLady giggled at me and I shook my head. "I am not," I offered simply, "the sexy type. I'm very lip gloss and neutral eye shadow. Cotton panties and black flats with little bows on them." Feeling a twinge of regret that my arches cramp when I wear my red pumps and that eyeliner looks far more silly than sexy, I waved away the feeling and decided I'm a bit too old to play dress-up and wish for what isn't.
I recalled the evening spent in my dining room as I winced at my reflection in the master bathroom this morning. I looked pale, dark circles under my eyes contrasting sharply with my overall pallor. Swirling, tapping and buffing for all I was worth, I sneezed at the powder that hung in the air from my furious application and cocked my head. Adjusting my glasses so they perched straight on my nose, I tugged at the hem of my black top and shrugged before moving slowly downstairs.
Apple juice and saltines tucked safely beside my laptop, I carefully drove to work and parked neatly in a spot before wandering toward the building. Feeling too queasy to want lip gloss, my naked lips and I went to the first of 9 hour-long meetings and tried to sleepily pay attention. I escaped briefly to head to the restroom, smiling weakly at the woman washing her hands.
"You work on that team," she told me, turning to smile brightly.
"OK," I agreed absently, shaking myself when she looked a bit bewildered. "I'm sorry - yes, I do work on that team."
"You won an award," she said, smiling again and I laughed as I went into the stall and unzipped my gray pants.
"Yes," I agreed, wondering what the appropriate response to that is. Someone who wears eyeliner well probably knows a gracious and elegant reply, I decided.
"Could we have a meeting?" she asked as I finished and emerged from my stall. "Would you mind?"
"Not at all," I said politely, wondering if she was Southern and wondered what we'd discuss.
"I'll book time on your calendar," she decided happily and I grinned at her enthusiasm before nodding. People are funny, I decided, counting slowly to 15 as I washed my hands and reaching for a paper towel.
After I tossed the damp towel in the trash but before I managed to open the door, my simple black flat hit an unexpected puddle of water. I hit the tile with a thud, whimpering a bit with pain before scampering to my feet before anyone saw me, wishing once more for a bit more grace and beauty.
I have showered and washed my face, carefully applying moisturizer because it's getting dryer up here. I managed a full day at work, though I'm utterly exhausted and don't know how I'll manage a 10 hour day tomorrow. And my bottom hurts. Because I can't walk around without falling down.
Tiny Friend nodded, gracefully accenting her wide eyes as the Mary Kay consultant looked on proudly. I glared down at the color before sighing once more. "She went a little crazy - lots of foundation, heavy eyes, dark mouth. Thanks," I interrupted myself to take the tiny vial of lip color that was put on my palette. "I went back to the lab, walked in the door - hair wildly curly, makeup extremely done - and watched Nicer, Taller and Smarter turn around. Their mouths fell open," I remembered, watching my lips curve in the tiny mirror that allowed me to view the color I absently applied. "And Taller finally said, 'Whoa,'" I recalled, smile widening. "'What happened to you?!'"
TinyFriend and MaryKayLady giggled at me and I shook my head. "I am not," I offered simply, "the sexy type. I'm very lip gloss and neutral eye shadow. Cotton panties and black flats with little bows on them." Feeling a twinge of regret that my arches cramp when I wear my red pumps and that eyeliner looks far more silly than sexy, I waved away the feeling and decided I'm a bit too old to play dress-up and wish for what isn't.
I recalled the evening spent in my dining room as I winced at my reflection in the master bathroom this morning. I looked pale, dark circles under my eyes contrasting sharply with my overall pallor. Swirling, tapping and buffing for all I was worth, I sneezed at the powder that hung in the air from my furious application and cocked my head. Adjusting my glasses so they perched straight on my nose, I tugged at the hem of my black top and shrugged before moving slowly downstairs.
Apple juice and saltines tucked safely beside my laptop, I carefully drove to work and parked neatly in a spot before wandering toward the building. Feeling too queasy to want lip gloss, my naked lips and I went to the first of 9 hour-long meetings and tried to sleepily pay attention. I escaped briefly to head to the restroom, smiling weakly at the woman washing her hands.
"You work on that team," she told me, turning to smile brightly.
"OK," I agreed absently, shaking myself when she looked a bit bewildered. "I'm sorry - yes, I do work on that team."
"You won an award," she said, smiling again and I laughed as I went into the stall and unzipped my gray pants.
"Yes," I agreed, wondering what the appropriate response to that is. Someone who wears eyeliner well probably knows a gracious and elegant reply, I decided.
"Could we have a meeting?" she asked as I finished and emerged from my stall. "Would you mind?"
"Not at all," I said politely, wondering if she was Southern and wondered what we'd discuss.
"I'll book time on your calendar," she decided happily and I grinned at her enthusiasm before nodding. People are funny, I decided, counting slowly to 15 as I washed my hands and reaching for a paper towel.
After I tossed the damp towel in the trash but before I managed to open the door, my simple black flat hit an unexpected puddle of water. I hit the tile with a thud, whimpering a bit with pain before scampering to my feet before anyone saw me, wishing once more for a bit more grace and beauty.
I have showered and washed my face, carefully applying moisturizer because it's getting dryer up here. I managed a full day at work, though I'm utterly exhausted and don't know how I'll manage a 10 hour day tomorrow. And my bottom hurts. Because I can't walk around without falling down.
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