Birthdays & Beauty

Yesterday was Adam's 35th Birthday. I baked him a cake (it was a sad, sad little cake but it was a homemade...sad, sad little cake), bought him balloons and decorated the house a little...

I thought the silly faces would be cute...but they look kind of creepy!

We had a lovely evening. Happy Birthday Adam...love you much!

Adam's birthday got me to thinking about my next birthday. I'll be 37 this summer and I’ve noticed I’m no longer as young as I think I am. This epiphany usually happens when I look in the mirror, a habit I'm trying to lose. I don’t wear a lot of makeup usually, but recently (yesterday cause I left work early to bake a cake, baked the cake, looked in the mirror, felt old, went to the mall to buy something to fix it), I forked over $27 for a tube of concealer. I walked into the makeup section at the Bay...something I never ever, ever do. In fact, I go out of my way to never enter the Bay using the entrance that deposits you into the deep, dark depths of the makeup section. That place has always frightened me.


I put on my big girl pants and faced my fear (no, I will never ever face my fear of clowns so don't even ask). I glanced around like a tourist trying to get my bearings. A woman with dark cascading curls and perfectly airbrushed skin approached me. Her lab coast made me think of dissection. "Can I help you?" she asked. I stepped back in an attempt to avoid her eyelashes. "I'm looking for something that will hide the dark circles under my eyes". She observed me, a specimen under her beauty microscope. She paused and then turned on her six inch stilettos. "Follow me" she barked at me. We stopped at a new counter. "Try this" she said, pulling out a tube the size of a crayon. I stepped closer. Using a Q-tip, she deposited a glob under one of my eyes. "Now dab it in". I started dabbing away but apparently I was doing it wrong. "Use your ring finger", Professor Curls snapped. 


I paused to look at my offending finger. I started again with what I hoped was my ring finger. This process was taking a while. "Now you're rubbing. Dab...like this". She took over. "There, do you see how much better you look?" I squinted into the mirror. I saw one partially obscured semicircle. It reminded me of when you draw a picture, make a mistake and then try to correct the mistake. Anyway, she's pressed the pencil so hard that even when she erases it, the original line is still visible, albeit slightly smudged and worn. Like me. "I'll take it", I said in an attempt to make a quick getaway. But before I could make my escape she asked "Can I interest you in anything else?", waving an acrylic nail around. "Perhaps some moisturizer? Anti-wrinkle serum?" I muttered in reply "No thanks, not today". I'd been schooled and scolded enough by Professor Curls, I just wanted to go home. 

What I notice when I get home that I didn't notice in the store...is the name of the concealer. It’s called, Cover FX - Camouflage Concealer. Apparently, the heavy-duty equipment’s been called out. Wish me luck. I’m going into battle.