A Very Mildly Deep Thought

I was watching a friend get ready to go out last night, and once she had figured out her outfit I was promptly bored by the makeup portion of the preparations. I quietly started getting bored on her behalf as well, and then realized she seemed to be having fun with it. For the life of me I could not understand how she could think it was fun to dig around for makeup, try to find the right thing, apply it correctly, etc.

Then I realized she was getting ready to go out and do something that's lots of fun for her. To me, fun is taking my magazine and going to Starbucks for an hour or two to read (read = people-watch). Fun is playing with a dog. Fun is wasting a few hours in a bookstore. Nothing that is fun for me EVER involves makeup. If I have to put on makeup, it's for a job interview, or a wedding, or because I'll be seeing people who I feel like won't think I'm good enough the way I am so I need to make myself look as absolutely good as I possibly can. Makeup or fancy clothes are never for good reasons in my world.

Never mind that I don't know how to use makeup. I always thought all those articles in YM and Seventeen were for girls whose mothers had died, but maybe they were also intended for the girls like me, who just somehow didn't learn it from their mother.

At one point I almost wanted to ask the friend how she learned to put on makeup, but she was trying to get out the door, and I thought I might cry if I asked, so I just didn't. She asked me how her eyes looked right around then and I said I didn't know, because I know nothing about makeup. She said "You have eyeballs, don't you?" You know what my eyeballs saw? That she looked about the same as she usually does when she's going out.

Sometimes, I just really hate myself. This was one of those times. And no, I don't actually *WANT* to wear makeup.