Mascara. It is the totally underrated makeup tool. More often than not it is the foundation or the eyeliner that gets kudos for being the make or break factor of a woman's boudoir arsenal. I beg to differ. For it is a well known fact that the eyes are the doorway to the soul and would it not make sense that how you present your peepers is of utmost importance?
Many women spend hours perfecting their base makeup, starting with the primer then foundation then bronzer and blush and then ruin the whole affair by not paying enough attention to their eyeballs.
I know from personal experience that your face could be a hot mess covered in pubescent acne but if your eyes are flawless no one will give it a second look. I know because senior year I was that hot mess. So I perfected the art that is mascara application. I can make my normal length lashes look like a Maybelline ad in less than ten mins. Give me any mascara and magic will happen. I am the Gandalf of eyelashes, clumps shall not pass. This wand of wonder also has the transformative power of making your day go ten times better than normal if applied right.
When my lashes are perfectly coated in black and each lash is individually magnified, personified and exemplary its going to be a damn good day. It could rain mud and snow goose poop but I'll be damned if the weather is going to mess up my day! My lashes are flawless!! Take that stupid weather!
This may seem like a stupid brainless girlie thing to obsess over but trust me this is cosmetic voodoo. Men, you may think you don't care or notice but believe me you do why else do you smile at us, hold open doors, and offer to cary our groceries when we batt our perfectly peerless peepers at you? It sure doesn't happen when were going au-natural. Accept this mystical makeup masterpiece that grants us unlimited power over you and I promise we wont tell anyone ;)
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Sparkling on the Cusp and Slow like Molasses
Tonight was one of those nights when everything just fits. The pieces of your life fall into place. Somehow you got so much accomplished during the day and that feeling of absolute accomplishment overwhelms you, then everything has moved into its place and created a night that is full of unlimited possibilities.
It seems as if you could do almost anything, run forever, ride a unicorn, even jump off the Empire State Building and fly! The sky looks as if it was painted, like a vaulted ceiling in a cathedral. The City almost boils over with life. People are alive with anticipation of what the night could bring. Even the City itself seems to be on edge, waiting with baited breath. Sparkling and teetering on the cusp, like a champagne glass on the verge of overflowing.
You walk the streets with a sense of bubbling expectancy waiting for the moment. The moment that is so obviously there waiting on you that you cannot possibly stop roaming until it has happened. The moment that slowly fills you with so much expectation that you dare not even breath. The sidewalk sparkles and the buildings are full with parties. Everyone is ten times more attractive and everyone seems to smile.
When you walk down those sparkling sidewalks towards that moment you cant help but bounce. Bounce along as if your walking on marshmallows. I swear if you were to walk behind me tonight you would have seen glitter and bubbles magically appear and float behind me like a vapor trail. Its nights like these that reinforce this as the City of possibilities. I wish I could wander forever and have these nights never end.
I always feel as if your right around the corner waiting for me and then we'll wander together. Time passes so much more slowly and yet with so much more sweetness. Time slips away with the sugary stickiness of molasses. Each moment as perfect as the last as if Father time himself can't help but want this night last as long as possible. Why is it we can never seem to inhabit these nights together? Is it because they are meant for only one person? Probably. I always feel isolated on nights like this, as if we are alone on islands of blissful perfection. But that solitary feeling isn't weighty like sometimes, it is liberating.
It seems as if you could do almost anything, run forever, ride a unicorn, even jump off the Empire State Building and fly! The sky looks as if it was painted, like a vaulted ceiling in a cathedral. The City almost boils over with life. People are alive with anticipation of what the night could bring. Even the City itself seems to be on edge, waiting with baited breath. Sparkling and teetering on the cusp, like a champagne glass on the verge of overflowing.
You walk the streets with a sense of bubbling expectancy waiting for the moment. The moment that is so obviously there waiting on you that you cannot possibly stop roaming until it has happened. The moment that slowly fills you with so much expectation that you dare not even breath. The sidewalk sparkles and the buildings are full with parties. Everyone is ten times more attractive and everyone seems to smile.
When you walk down those sparkling sidewalks towards that moment you cant help but bounce. Bounce along as if your walking on marshmallows. I swear if you were to walk behind me tonight you would have seen glitter and bubbles magically appear and float behind me like a vapor trail. Its nights like these that reinforce this as the City of possibilities. I wish I could wander forever and have these nights never end.
I always feel as if your right around the corner waiting for me and then we'll wander together. Time passes so much more slowly and yet with so much more sweetness. Time slips away with the sugary stickiness of molasses. Each moment as perfect as the last as if Father time himself can't help but want this night last as long as possible. Why is it we can never seem to inhabit these nights together? Is it because they are meant for only one person? Probably. I always feel isolated on nights like this, as if we are alone on islands of blissful perfection. But that solitary feeling isn't weighty like sometimes, it is liberating.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Ocean Storms
Have you ever stood on the beach as the sun was setting and a storm was building on the horizon?
That span when there is this combination of incredible beauty and immense power all at the same time. The clouds build in the distance and pile up into thunderheads and race towards the shore. The sun is setting and turns the storm into towering columns of dusty pink, rose, gold and shades of dusky purple. It becomes a breathtaking moment when time seems to stop and all other things become inconsequential and all thats left is the majesty of it all. Then as slowly as you thought it was happening its over and the sun has set and the thunderheads are rumbling their discontent and then bottom drops out.
Sheets of rain chop the water and sand while the waves grow in height. Gulls scream through the storm and pelicans skim the choppy surface of the sea. The ocean roars and tears itself against the shoreline that holds it captive. As the ocean voices its anger so does the storm itself. The storm rages and sends shuddering rumbles through the air that shake your very insides and produce goose bumps. But however dangerous it may be it is also so thrilling that nothing could tear you away.
That span when there is this combination of incredible beauty and immense power all at the same time. The clouds build in the distance and pile up into thunderheads and race towards the shore. The sun is setting and turns the storm into towering columns of dusty pink, rose, gold and shades of dusky purple. It becomes a breathtaking moment when time seems to stop and all other things become inconsequential and all thats left is the majesty of it all. Then as slowly as you thought it was happening its over and the sun has set and the thunderheads are rumbling their discontent and then bottom drops out.
Sheets of rain chop the water and sand while the waves grow in height. Gulls scream through the storm and pelicans skim the choppy surface of the sea. The ocean roars and tears itself against the shoreline that holds it captive. As the ocean voices its anger so does the storm itself. The storm rages and sends shuddering rumbles through the air that shake your very insides and produce goose bumps. But however dangerous it may be it is also so thrilling that nothing could tear you away.
The Golden Moment
The most beautiful moment in this city is the moment when the sun is slowly setting and turns everything to gold. It touches each window and facet of the buildings and turns them to beautiful sculptures cast in gold then bronze then a shade somewhere between deep blue and ocher. They slowly transform into more than just concrete and steel. These glorious beings who are steadfastly watching over us as the day disappears and promise to forever be there for whenever we should need them. They watch us as we move amongst them a silent presence observing our lives and protecting us as we struggle to live out our dreams.
These monoliths of mankind's construction are forever invisible in their roles until that brief moment most of us miss. That moment when the earth slowly rotates to reveal their true perfection while slowly casting them in darkness. Try and catch it if you can.
What If You Woke Up
Many people confess to not being happy with who they are. For whatever reason it may be lets just say that you are not content with who you are.
What if you woke up one day and could change? What if you woke up one day and could be just as new and inconsistent as the weather? What would you change? Purely the physical? A personality trait? Everything?
Do you ever think "If only I could change this one thing I would be happy"? What if you actually could? What if you could stop time and change the things you aren't happy with.
Would you be happy? In all honesty would it really make you happier to have a slimmer nose? Probably not, once you fix that one thing you'd find another and so it would continue. Its hard not being perfect but thats what makes people interesting.
Like the City itself we are each imperfect in perfect way. Our imperfections are what make us beautiful.
We make mistakes and yet we also make miracles. Life some say is about "finding yourself" but I think its really about coming to terms with your imperfections.
What if you woke up one day and could change? What if you woke up one day and could be just as new and inconsistent as the weather? What would you change? Purely the physical? A personality trait? Everything?
Do you ever think "If only I could change this one thing I would be happy"? What if you actually could? What if you could stop time and change the things you aren't happy with.
Would you be happy? In all honesty would it really make you happier to have a slimmer nose? Probably not, once you fix that one thing you'd find another and so it would continue. Its hard not being perfect but thats what makes people interesting.
Like the City itself we are each imperfect in perfect way. Our imperfections are what make us beautiful.
We make mistakes and yet we also make miracles. Life some say is about "finding yourself" but I think its really about coming to terms with your imperfections.
Monday, January 23, 2012
When The City Weeps So Do I
The City, today, was engulfed in those gloomy depressing gray misty clouds that make the buildings disappear.
In the country it would be mysterious and beautiful but here it makes everything seem ten times more gray and dense. You almost feel as if the mist is somehow creeping up on you and will soon swallow you like it did the Empire State Building.
All I wanted to do today was curl up next to you and watch the rain fall and the day creep by. It was one of those days when you just feel like you need a good cleansing cry while curled in a pair of strong arms. (You know those arms that are so gloriously muscled that even when resting the muscle underneath is both hard and fluid at the same time) The type of cry that mirrors the City's depression. You feel as dense as the gray monoliths that surround you, so heavy that at some moments you feel as if you cannot possibly pick up your own head. Every feeling, even happiness, has undertones of melancholy. When I look at you its with a sort of sad ecstasy, I could never see you with just pure sadness but it has become even harder when the City itself seems to weep with me.
The days when this overwhelming wretchedness casts itself over the City you cannot help but reflect its mood. The City thrives on its inhabitants yet we also thrive upon it.
In the country it would be mysterious and beautiful but here it makes everything seem ten times more gray and dense. You almost feel as if the mist is somehow creeping up on you and will soon swallow you like it did the Empire State Building.
All I wanted to do today was curl up next to you and watch the rain fall and the day creep by. It was one of those days when you just feel like you need a good cleansing cry while curled in a pair of strong arms. (You know those arms that are so gloriously muscled that even when resting the muscle underneath is both hard and fluid at the same time) The type of cry that mirrors the City's depression. You feel as dense as the gray monoliths that surround you, so heavy that at some moments you feel as if you cannot possibly pick up your own head. Every feeling, even happiness, has undertones of melancholy. When I look at you its with a sort of sad ecstasy, I could never see you with just pure sadness but it has become even harder when the City itself seems to weep with me.
The days when this overwhelming wretchedness casts itself over the City you cannot help but reflect its mood. The City thrives on its inhabitants yet we also thrive upon it.
The Breaking of Growth
It seems so long ago that we met.
And I suppose it was, so much has happened since then.
Heartaches. Trials, and Triumphs. Ends, and Beginnings. The New and The Old. oh and Beauty Pageants.
I have changed. I have become something different entirely. They told me this year would change me, I didn't really believe them. They were right.
At the beginning of this year I was told this year will change you, it will force you to either fail or rise above. I have done both. I have failed and then somehow managed to find my wings and still fly. It is a gut wrenching, soul breaking, will smashing process that wrings out every last possible reserve only to demand even more. You give more but that still is never enough. You succeed when you reach the realization that there comes a time when you can no longer afford to care about others opinions.
And I suppose it was, so much has happened since then.
Heartaches. Trials, and Triumphs. Ends, and Beginnings. The New and The Old. oh and Beauty Pageants.
I have changed. I have become something different entirely. They told me this year would change me, I didn't really believe them. They were right.
At the beginning of this year I was told this year will change you, it will force you to either fail or rise above. I have done both. I have failed and then somehow managed to find my wings and still fly. It is a gut wrenching, soul breaking, will smashing process that wrings out every last possible reserve only to demand even more. You give more but that still is never enough. You succeed when you reach the realization that there comes a time when you can no longer afford to care about others opinions.
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