Those of you who know me know that I usually look like this when I’m walking around in the world, plus an Instagram filter:
I know, kinda cute right?!
So in case anyone saw me today and was confused or shocked or baffled or felt betrayed by my utterly unrecognizable face, before I get the Uma treatment, I just want a chance to explain. Let me start from the beginning.*
1. I woke up. I was really tired last night from staying up late the previous night listening to hair metal ballads and drawing still lifes of treasure trolls and denying that the work week would begin—so I went to bed early last night and slept for like ten hours. I woke up looking kinda like this:
Sorry guys, I didn’t mean to confuse you.
2. I wore glasses instead of contacts. I know, it’s like I’m totally trying to pull the wool over your eyes, and it isn’t working.
3. I developed zits. There is a cluster of them on either cheek. I thought zits were for teenagers, not 32-year-olds. So it’s confusing for me, but even more confusing for my spectators.
Hark, tis a family of zits!
4. I put on zero makeups. Since I was heading to the gym, I opted not to put on my normal regimen of three different kinds of eyeshadows, two types of eyeliners, one mascara, MAC concealer (does it give you zits???) some swipes of blush, and lipstick.
5. My bangs got too long, so I pushed them to the side.
6. I put off threading my eyebrows for God knows how long. I go to a place in Union Square, and it’s kind of out of my way now that my therapist’s office isn’t located there anymore. So I just haven’t gone. And now I wear my bushy eyebrows like a veil of cunning deceit.
7. I sweat a bunch at the gym. It made my face kinda red and blotchy, and wiping the sweat off of my face with a towel while on the treadmill caused my bangs to push up at an angle, resulting in an utterly stunning shift from my normal non-sweaty, kempt-bangs look. It’s not an excuse you guys, but it is an explanation.
I could say my raised heart rate caused me to sweat, but then I’d be dodging responsibility.
8. I aged. As hard as I’ve been trying to outchase this process of growing older, I have failed. I turned 30, and then 31, and then even 32. And there are tiny wrinkles forming around my eyes, you guys. I hope you can consider forgiving me.
Tiny wrinkles framed by bushy eyebrows ’cause I am not a woman but a monster. Plus, no, that’s not your computer monitor—there is dry skin on my nose that is so not supposed to be there.
9. I left the house in sweatpants and a t-shirt that says “Dare to Use the F-Word: Feminist.” I know, you’re looking around for someone whose charming young face is complemented by a sleek combo of sweater or skirt or statement necklace, but she’s not here anymore.
Look for me tomorrow, when I plan to transform my face into an entirely foreign, completely new face all over again.
* Shout-out to Caolan Madden, who helped inspire this post with her excellent jokes on Facebook about Uma, transformation, zits, and haircuts.
Hah! This is awesome. The ways media and people in general freak out over women’s faces and bodies, as it was anyone’s business but their own is utterly ridiculous.