28 January 2007

So the other day...

I'm at work doing surveys. And I call a man named Mr. Mehboob. Heh. Meh. Boob. I giggled out loud.

Ah, it is the first day of my "weekend". Last night, our friends came over. We drank a little beer, smoked some cigarettes. The boys went off to listen to some music. The girls sat on the couch and clucked away. We ordered some pizza and that was an instant satisfaction. You see, PMS Monster demanded melted cheese and lots of it. There has been a sad lack of cheese in my life lately so that pizza made me feel truly euphoric.

Tomorrow, I get my blood work results back from the doctor. I won't lie and say that I'm not concerned. I'm just a little nervous. I suppose the reassuring thing is that they didn't need to see me immediately. I'm assuming if it is truly bad, they would have rescheduled my appointment to an earlier date. Wish me luck! I still think people should be placing bets on what's my health problem. It could have been a fun thing to do - you know, like raffles during the Grey Cup. Most people have their bets on low iron. I agree with the odd few that say hypoglycemia. Who knows, maybe thyroid will be the winning diagnosis. Thyroid's a jerk that way. My bosses keep saying I'm "with seed" and have the tapeworm, since I'm always hungry. That's how rumours start, I told them. To set the record straight, I am neither "with seed" or do I have the tapeworm.

I feel like the day zoomed past me. Didn't I just roll out of bed a few hours ago? And now it's quarter to midnight. It's no fair, I say! I have to say, I accomplished very little. I did some of my darling domestic duties. I took a hot bath. I surfed the net and posted in my daily photoblog. I drank hot tea. I played around with my cosmetics. And now it's close to midnight. I guess I'm allowed to slack off on my day off.

I did, however, have fun playing dress-up. I, once again, attempted to create a vampy 1920's face. I wouldn't call it a great success. 1920's makeup always seems like a good idea. I love that decade for makeup but I can never get it right. It's frustrating. Painting on those Clara Bow lips, those bee-stung lips, is always a huge disaster. It never fails, I end up looking like a bad drag queen.

It reminds me of that time my friend and I thought it would be a brilliant idea to dress up in modest lingerie and do our makeup in 1920's style....while drinking copious amounts of gin. Anyway, once we got the photographs back from developing, we had a good laugh. Yep, drinking and applying vintage makeup looks don't mix. And nothing is more glamourous than vomiting after a boudoir photoshoot. Hot.

My attempt at a 1920's eye went alright, actually. I suppose if I had the appropriate costume, eyebrow shape, and hairstyle - I'd be more convinced. I don't know if my face belongs in the 1920's or a goth club.

The bee-stung lips. Ack, disasterous as usual. Perhaps if I had a different shape of lips it would look better. I can achieve the shape of the popular lip look of that era with lipliner. Once I fill in the lips with lipstick...enter bad drag queen. I laugh at how ridiculous it really looks. I ended up filling my entire lips, in defeat. I guess I'm just not ment to have bee-stung lips.

Excuse me while I babble about makeup.

That's what I love about makeup. It's fun and I get lost in it. It relaxes me, unless something goes terribly wrong. Like that time I thought my black liquid eyeliner was concealer. I think I breathed fire that morning.

Meh. Boob

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