Yesterday, I should have attacked Alejandro's camera and taken my picture. Yesterday, I looked pretty. My hair was doing what it's supposed to do, and my eyes looked enormous and shiny and not just brown. I have a strange obsession with my eyelashes, and I think Jennica started it for me. She can't stand to not have curly eyelashes, and therefore, I got into the groove.
Now when I go into WalMart, no matter how much I resist, I am drawn to the makeup section. I desperately try to find something that satisfies my sense of wanting a new mascara, just to see if I can somehow make my lashes stay curly and look like there are three times more of them than there really are.
It's a complicated science. Some mascaras make your eyelashes look skinny, and like you only have five or six of them, because they're all stuck together. Some of them clump up and make your eyelashes look oily. Some of them are pretty, and they fluff up your lashes, but it still doesn't look like you've got anything on.
My eyes are my favorite part of my face. I'm entitled to be retarded about them.
To all the boys who read my blog:
I'm so terribly sorry about all that.