I'm so vain I probably think this post is about me

I didn't mention in my last post that on the way to the airport on Friday, the cab driver asked me how old I was. I'm used to being mistaken for much younger (more than once now I've been asked if I was my 16-year-old brother's girlfriend) and while it's annoying and encourages all my Napoleonic tendencies, it doesn't really phase me anymore. So the driver's shock at my being 23 wasn't anything unusual. His informing us he needed to know because children over TWELVE are an extra dollar per passenger, however, threw me for a loop. Twelve. That's a new record. That's about half my age. That's early stages of puberty. I am not twelve. I may think and act like a 12-year-old boy sometimes, but wow. Twelve.

This may have been why I was so willing to give myself over to the makeup consultants at the Pasadena Sephora. My sister likes all things makeover, so she was all for having me be the one to get done, and my mom has been trying to get me to wear makeup more regularly since I was about 15. So with Mommy's credit card and approval, I found one of the women working at Sephora (Jesika) and basically said I have no idea what to do when it comes to makeup and I was just mistaken for 12 and I'm 23 HELP! And help she did. Instead of just pushing product, she taught me to actually apply makeup in the most tasteful, artful way, right down to the proper way to hold the proper brushes. The thing I found strangest but kind of like a lot was when she darkened my eyebrows with a deep brown eyeshadow. My eyebrows are blonde and I've never given them much thought or shaping, but Jesika suggested that my fair hair and nearly invisible eyebrows are part of what make me look like a baby. $75 later (thank you Mommy) I left with two professional brushes, a "smudge pot" of gel eyeliner, a combination blush/lip color thing, and a new sense of confidence in my makeup application abilities. Yesterday I got a cheap eyeshadow compact at Target with similar colors to the ones Jesika used, and today I did the whole thing all by myself for the first time.
It took half an hour.
The world didn't stop in my tracks as I went about my day, though Elizabeth did say, "you're wearing makeup!" If it continues to take half an hour, I may slip back into my lazy, naked-faced ways for regular days at work, but I do feel a bit like I've been on What Not To Wear or some other makeover show and I should now have a new lease on life and a party with all my friends telling me how good I look. Then again, it's just a little fucking makeup. Most of the female adult world wears makeup. I am not a unique snowflake, but I do have a foundation brush.

Neurologist appointment in the morning. First time seeing this guy. Mostly I just want my drugs refilled as the migraines have been (knock on wood) fairly well behaved.

Time to peel off my pore-cleansing face mask and get my beauty sleep.