Lately my blogs have been a wee bit pissy. Because I have been a wee bit pissy. Ha. How's that for honest? Well, I have something to tell you. When I am in this funk of a mood, there is seriously only one thing I can do to get out of it: I must beautify myself. ANY WAY I CAN. I truly am a girly-girl. I remember this time last year very distinctly. I was fat and pregnant; my skin was dry and my clothes didn't fit and I'd gone for my regularly scheduled wax at the spa, and the makeup artist woman there looked at me and saw 'prey' written all over my face -- and she 'innocently' asked me if I needed my makeup done.
I should have been insulted.
I must have looked even worse than I felt.
But I was like, 'Would I?" -- and that wasn't exuberance you heard in my voice. That was shear and utter desperation. I was begging her to please please make me feel beautiful so I could get out of this sad, pathetic, gloomy-ass funk.
So, she did; and of course I was swindled into buying up all the products she used (which by the way were not the greatest)--again telling you how desperate I was for attention, love, and beauty.
Anyhow, let's just jump to this year. This week. This new funk. I don't know how they do it, but sale's ladies find me, EVEN IF I AM AT HOME IN MY P.J'S trying to safely ride out my funk there (where no sale's lady can accost me and swindle me into spending my hard earned government funded pay cheques).
Well let me tell YOU!
They find me there too! I must have a really strong homing device attached to me somewhere. And I must emit some really strong currents into the universe that beg, no plead for someone to take me under her wing, beautify me and make me feel all good again.
So Friday night, I was reading my bloggies that I love...and the phone rings. I think it's my sister-in-law, so I answer it all 'um helllloooo' (as in thanks for finally calling me--you know the attitude).
Well, turns out it was my favourite local cosmetics girl. Let's call her Barbie. She sought me out! She calls and is all 'We have a special event coming up with gifts with purchase' etc. etc.
Let's be honest.
She had me at hello.
I was salivating. Only just that day I was begging my dutiful j.b. to let me loose in the Estee Lauder store where she works so I could buy my favourite, and already emptied lip gloss (Orchid -- which I highly recommend everyone buys because it is the most gorgeous fuchsia colour that would look good on everyone, but no one would buy because it's fuchsia. But it is gorgeous and the colour stays on the lips as if it were a lipstick. And it feels so good on...And. And. Oh man. I have a problem).
But j.b. knows me, and he was hesitant. But he had okayed it!
So, truly serendipitously, the phone rings and Barbie calls and I'm all "OMG I was TOTALLY going to be coming in to see you tomorrow to buy me some gloss!". And then she tells me of the gift with purchase event if I only spend such and such amount of money. But then she says, never mind that, when can I do your makeover again!?
Those are the magic words.
I was all "Can you do it tomorrow?" -- I was never one to shy away from looking desperate, you see.
And it was on!
So yesterday, I was so excited, I got OUT of my p.j's and into an outfit in which I actually felt pretty and I went to the mall! I felt re-inspired. Like I had purpose once again! And then 'Barbie' did my makeup. I must preface (or epilogue, maybe?) this by saying that she did my original make-over back in November and did such a good job I bought almost everything she tried on me. And this is Estee Lauder we're talking about here? Not cheap. Nope. Barbie is one of the main reasons I have spent more money on makeup than clothes. I might as well be the Paper Bag Princess. But at least my face will look good! Because, after all, is that not the most important? No? (p.s. wouldn't that be a really good ad. idea -- I should copyright that).
Back in November, Barbie did the best make-over I have ever had. And if you haven't gotten this from my post so far: I've had many many many many many many make-overs.
She is the best.
She picks the most silky, luscious, properly bold colours for my taste and my colouring. She does things to my face I didn't know could be done. I loved love loved her first go at my face. But with yesterday's look I had random people approach me after and tell me how great my eyes looked. AND EVEN MY HUSBAND! When I got home, his first words were 'Oh wow. Your eyes'. If you have a husband (or at least one like mine), then you know that this statement is more rare than seeing a Robin in February.
So, my point to this long rant is. If you are feeling like I was. And you need something to pull you out of your sad little funk. And you are as superficial and easily bought as I am -- a makeover may be just what you need. It lifted me up -- it made me stand tall -- it got me out of my p.j's.! And Barbie -- well, she did what all good sale's ladies do for me: she made me and my face feel like Goddesses.
And it only cost me -- well, that's between me and my Visa (if I can help it -- and can keep it hidden from j.b., that is!)... ha ha.
In all seriousness, if you live anywhere near me, I recommend a visit to the Estee Lauder at the Bay in Masonville. Don't ask for Barbie, though -- ha ha. I will let you know her real name:-)
For now, though, I am signing off with a smile: Just call me Pretty in Pink.
Or better yet: the Paper Bag Princess -- because after yesterday's adventure, I can no longer afford to buy the new wardrobe I need for back to work -- woops.