there are certain perils that one encounters as a wearer of eyeliner. aside from the aforementioned prejudice, the principle conundrum is the sheer inability of making one's eyeliner stay put. it wants to migrate and play the field. to fool around with the chin or party with the nose or have a forehead one night stand. eyeliner is très JFK.
the catch-22 is that the simple wearing of eyeliner can make one look 37% less haggard- a figure overwhelmingly in its favor. but a figure rendered less glorious by the fact that eyeliner gone awry can make one look 42% more crazed. it's a risky fine line.
today, i did a series of bold, not so smart things. i put on eyeliner in the dark. i did not turn on the lights to check the stay-puttingness of said eyeliner that had been applied in the dark. and then i went out in public.
it was a freaking awesome hair day and the sun was shining in such a shiney way that i almost believed i had somehow awoken into a shampoo commercial.
happily, i skipped to the marché to post a certain christmas present to a certain someone. happily, i conducted an entire business transaction, tossing my glossy raven locks so that everyone else in the line could appreciate their uncommon luster.
it was with less happiness that, at the completion of our business transaction, i received a gentle pat on the hand from miss marché postal worker, who said in a tone hushed with concern, honey, what's all that dirt there under your eyes?
29 comments:
Well, at least she said something to you, and your hair was in your favor. Did the clean-up of the eyeliner allow you to re-live your Morning of the Hair and Babefulness glory?
my dear slut, indeed! once i'd pried the black flecks from the haggard hollows under my eyes, the reliving was quite glorious.
incidentally, it thrills me to no end to have fostered your tabloid habit. the tabs are, after all, the greatest feminine literature of our time.
yay for christmas presents!
and the greatest masculine literature of our time...? *please say comic books, please say comic books...*
that one's your call, pirate, so comic books it is.
Powder makes eyeliner stay very nicely.
this is why my mum shouldn't've left me to fend for myself in her makeup bag.
i'm picturing a mini-Oline tossed into her mum's make-up bag, swimming about on rainbow colored seas of, um, make-up.
wow. i'm dazzled by my own cuteness in that image.
do you mean cutness?
i hate birds.
really? learn something new every day.
dear sarcasticO,
had i not mentioned that i hate birds? i thought for sure i had mentioned that i hate birds. because, really i do hate them. damn birds.
and since we're getting around to things that have yet to be say... if i haven't mentioned it before - typically, i am the warmest person in the room.
I'm always the coldest... Mike always wears shorts and a t-shirt over to my place and I'll still be under a blanket...
Nickie, it's the skinny people curse. You'll realize it with Caro. We're freezing and you guys are sweating up a storm.
Oh, btw, Nickie. You're in trouble with me. I got your plague. Curse you!
LG, i do believe you've mentioned that.
and meggie, don't you be canoodling with the LG and catching his plague from two states over. (and yes, that was a completely transparent excuse to use the word canoodling, which i rather love.)
shameless word display Oline. Pirate approved (and reccomended). thank you (and by extension, Nick) for my new Wife.
oh i should have posted her, then she could've been your mail-order bride. there's not enough of that these days. it's so cary grant.
i had nothing to do with any of it!
Your fervent(sp?) denial only implicates you further Herr Nicholas. And as far as dead celebs go, ole C K Dexter Haven the creme de la creme.
right, right, pirate. i'm glad someone's keeping a ranking of dead celebs.
if i don't who will i ask you?
the absence of a comma there made me wonder for just a fleeting moment: is the dougO not a native english speaker?
Is it dougO that writes all those weirdo spam emails???
Quite frankly, I feel like I am getting a computer virus just looking at his sentence.
i've known the dougO all these years, and i never realized that he was rami jacme. lindear, you're so wise.
what(,) a sentence where every word has an equal stress freaks you ladies out(,) does it? just go back and read it over and pretend I am a robot. makes things easier on the brain.
also, get offa my back grammar police! i'll poor syntax you fools into oblivion.
A robot is just as bad. Bastard robots...
lindear swore!
i think i'll syntax you fools into oblivion is the perfect precurser to the bombshell's servant! fetch me my boombox! line.
what music would accompany the drafting of poor syntax?
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