October 13, 2011
Last night, I spoke to a group of 50 women.
About ten minutes before my talk, I popped into the restroom to check the status of my makeup.
That's when I realized that I wasn't wearing any.
I don't feel like makeup is required for most of life's events. The only two exceptions that I can think of are your wedding day and the 20 minutes in which you are giving a motivational speech about how it's possible to be smart and sexy at the same time.
The case is impossible to make (at least for me) without the assistance of five layers of foundation.
"Ack!" I screeched when I saw my reflection. Before I left the house, I remembered to iron my dress and curl my hair (thanks instructional videos on YouTube!). As I was getting out my makeup, one of my kids distracted me by accidentally dropping a plate on the kitchen floor. Clearly I didn't make it back to the mirror again before I left the house.
Panicked, I rummaged through my purse and prayed for a miracle in the form of an eyeshadow compact or lone wand of mascara. All I found was an old Wal Mart receipt, a travel-sized bottle of hand lotion, and a tube of hot pink lipstick.
So here's what I was thinking at the time: any color is better than no color.
I have since learned that this is a logical fallacy.
While I was rubbing two sticks together so to speak, another woman came into the restroom. "Are you okay?" she asked nervously.
This is an acceptable response to witnessing someone apply lipstick to her eyelids and cheekbones.
"I have a super weird favor to ask," I replied.
The woman looked at me blankly. It was hard for her to imagine things getting any more weird than they already were.
"Do you have anything on you?" I ask. "And if so, can I buy it?"
Here's what was going through my mind in that moment: I have germs and I don't want anyone to loan me their makeup and then be so grossed by out the idea that it's touched someone else's face that they can't bear to use it anymore.
My intent was to be thoughtful.
After saying this, however, I realized that the way I phrased my request made it sound like what I wanted wasn't a dab of blush, but a kilo of cocaine.
The woman exited the bathroom very quickly after that.
In the end, I gave my talk looking like I had gotten sunburned in very strange places.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
Here's the crazy thing: I have a sneaking suspicion that I was more aware of my deficiency than anyone else was in the room. In hindsight, I regret the fact that it got the best of me, and made me so self-conscious that I couldn't enjoy the experience.
As usual, my husband was a fortress of support. "That's not nearly as bad as the time that you taught an entire class unaware that you had a melted Hershey's kiss stuck on rear end. It looked like you..."
"All right," I interrupted.
"Or the time that you got so animated about a point that you were making in class that you fell into a garbage can."
He could have gone on for hours.
Ever forget the obvious? Tell me your stories. Please!