Makeup and Misery

Below is where my freaky mind goes when making random observations.

~ Makeup. I don’t leave home without it. Yes, yes, I know, I’m vain. I don’t really wear much. I curl my eyelashes (no mascara). I absolutely have to use concealer under the eyes. Then, I do a quick brush of blush for color.

Having said that, I started observing women around me to see if they wore makeup. At a local bagel shop one day, I noticed that not a single woman was wearing makeup. Not the young girls, and none of the women my age either. Was I the only one? In fact, one young twenty-something who grabbed a latte and ran out, wore a gray t-shirt, a pair of pajama bottoms and red slippers with tassels. No joke.

Then, one evening when I was at dinner at Mom’s senior place, our twenty-something server looked as if she shaved her black cat and used the fur for eyelashes. Those fuzzy jobbies were so long they almost tickled my nose from her spot near the table! Her black eyeliner was thicker than molasses, and her face looked like she fashioned it out of clay.

This is just an observation, mind you. Aside from naked (or almost naked), I really don’t care what other people wear. As usual, for myself, I prefer a state of balance between PJ-lady and furry-lashes-lady.

~ I’ve noticed that some people actually like being miserable. They are the crabby people I bump into out in the world, along with the angry people on television and social media. It seems to me that they allow people they hate to live rent free in their heads. These angry people come across as self-righteous. And, who doesn’t love being “righteous?” They are happy in their misery because so many are beneath them.

~ Speaking of angry people, last week, an old guy yelled at me from his car. It was at the library. They were blacktopping part of the parking lot, so some of it was blocked off. I had to go the wrong-way down the parking lot lane to get out, and so would anyone else who was leaving. An old guy in an SUV coming from the other direction didn’t want to move over for me. I waited him out. When he finally moved, he rolled down his window and yelled at me for going the wrong way. When he got to the end of the lane he had to do a three-point turn to come back my way and get out. I don’t know how this wasn’t obvious. They had blockades that could be seen down the street.

There you have it, my random observations for the day. Have any of your own lately?