Painted Lady (Or Not)

As much of a girly-girl as I am, lately I have fallen off the makeup wagon. Don't get me wrong, I still loooooove make-up. Nothing makes me happier than a turn through Sephora (or even a quick stroll up and down the makeup aisle in Walgreens- I'll take it any way I can get it thankyouverymuch). Neiman's? Nordstrom? Just the thought of their cosmetics departments is enough to launch me into a happy-coma. It just seems to me that unless I know I have an appointment, there's not much point in "putting my face on" when The Mace is the only one who's going to see me. And maybe the UPS guy. But, hey, that's his problem. He's on my turf.

During high school and college, I would go out frequently with no makeup. I've always been blessed with good skin and was told often that I didn't look my age. This is genetic. No one- and I mean no one- in my family looks his or her age (it's like a Dorian Grey convention up in this piece). For that reason, I hadn't thought much about venturing out to run a few errands au naturel. Until today. In the interest of full-disclosure, I woke up feeling pretty crappy this morning. My guess is I probably look about like I feel (I base this on the reaction I received from the bubbly girls in our leasing office when I ran over there earlier). Henceforth, I should probably put in just a little more effort. Nothing drastic- concealer, mascara, maybe some gloss if I'm feeling especially saucy. Because instead of the fresh-faced young un I imagine myself to be, I'm guessing I'm a little closer to this:



And I don't think anyone wants to run into that while picking up some Diet Coke and pita chips, am I right?