Just a minute! I have to put on my face… January 30, 2008

I started wearing make-up when I was thirteen years old.

 My first eyeshadow was a teal colour. I applied it every morning. I marched into that Grade 8 classroom with my teal eyes shimmering and my confidence level through the roof. That colour looked terrible on me.

 Soon after that, I bought eyeliner and mascara. I discovered concealer and foundation. Then I tried powder and I traded my teal eye shadow for a nicer pink colour my mother helped me pick out.

Somewhere between 14 and 21, I found out what cleanser, toner, and moisturizer did to my skin. It cleared my complexion and smoothed out the lumps and bumps of my skin.

Now my daily routine involves washing away the dirts and impurities of my skin and putting on a mask. I disguise that zit on my face, and I soak the oil with powder to make it not so shiny, and when my eyes are looking a little droopy I apply some foundation under my eyes.

Just now, I’m looking over my life and wondering how many pallates of colours I have been through, how many gallons of foundation has passed over this skin and then washed away, how many make-up brushes I have lost in the bathroom and on on my travels, how many zits I have actually had that were covered by caky concealer, and just how much money I have spent.

It must boggle the minds of men everywhere to see women trotting around with a layer of make-up on their face. I wonder to myself if men every wonder if the woman they have their arm around, or the girl on the date they are paying for, would look the same without the thickening mascara and the complexion smoothing foundation. I wonder sometimes, what a man thinks when they see a woman leaning over a counter or dresser applying make-up like it’s a lost art. I wonder sometimes what those men think, when it’s all washed away, and the make-up is gone, and they watch us wake-up just to apply it all again.

Woman wake-up. Woman wash face. Woman moisturize face. Woman apply make-up. Woman apply make-up during the day. Woman comes home and washes make-up away. Then it all happens again the next day.

Now if you excuse me, I see I need a touch-up.

Hello! I’m Shitty… January 30, 2008

When I say “Shitty”, don’t get worried. I happen to have a very high sense of self-confidence and self-esteem. In fact, some may say, it is a borderline attitude problem (my mother being one of them!).

I coined the nickname in my first year of college. I was sent to interview two characters from The Trailor Park Boys. One was Mr. Layhey. Somehwere in the interview, he called me Shitty MacDuff. He then started telling me about a character named MacDuff in a Shakespeare play. My friend was with me. He spread that nickname through the class like wild fire, and the next thing I knew, when people said “Shitty”, I said “yeah?”

It lead me into my second year of college. Just seconds into meeting up with my friend from first year after our holiday, I heard the word “Shitty”.

 Among Lolly, Lala, Larry, Duffer, Duffy, Duff’s Little Sister, MacMuffin, and MacDuffer, I proudly added “Shitty” to the list.

I just turned 21 years old. All my friends are calling me an old fart, and yesterday I changed my Facebook status to “is an old fart” to prove it.

Usually when people write these beginning blogs, they tell their audience a little about themselves. Well I’d like to say some things about me too, but it goes beyond just where I am from and what I am up to today.

I’m a goofball. I have a sense of humour that nobody really understands other than my very best friends, who usually laugh AT me rather than WITH me. I laugh at things like people falling on the sidewalk, funny bumper stickers, people who walk into a room from the cold who have their glasses fog up, the movie Mr. Bean’s Holiday, and puppies falling backwards off of porches. I have been known to laugh until my stomach hurts and there are mascara stained tears rolling down my cheeks. When someone asks “what’s so funny?” it’s probably just something like “I stubbed my toe for the tenth time today”.

 My favourite books are produced by the Oprah Magazine. The first is titled “Oprah: Live Your Best Life”. I bought it for five dollars at Value Village. The second, “Oprah: O’s Guide to Life”, I scoped out at the mall. It was on sale at Coles for 50% off. Jeremy, a guy I’m still seeing, and was starting to see at the time I saw the book, didn’t know what to think when I stopped bug face in the Mall and spent the last few dollars in my bank account on a book that weighed ten pounds and that I had to lug around the mall. I started reading the book immediately.

The books are collections of the best of Oprah Magazine over a year long period. I’m a Journalism student. This just makes sense! Don’t hate me beacuse I’m beautiful, hate me because I have books that belong in a 50 year olds bookshelf!

I love pictures. It’s me at the party snapping photographs and it’s me on Facebook with all the albums. I love photographs so much that I’m sure if I added up the amount of money I spent on them, I could have probably paid for my first year of college (I think this may be an over estimate but for the sake of getting my point across, please go with it!). I love photos because they tell a story at that time. They speak of friends that you had, and that you overcame. They spell stories without words of families who have loved and lose, undertook and overcame. They can make you smile and make you laugh, and are a treasure to those who hold them to their hearts.

Hello. My name is Shitty, and I’m a shopoholic. Writing this, I’m wearing a pink, brown, and white coloured shirt I bought at Dynamite today. Beside me is a new pair of jeans and a t-shirt I purchased as well. I love the mall experience. I love buying new clothes. They can make you have a new level of confidence, or just make you look nice. I find it fun to hunt down the best deals. It’s a great way to bond with friends, or spend some alone time with yourself. I love the “retail therapy”.

I listen to “the oldies”. There is nothing like the real old 60’s tunes to wake you up on your way to school, or shake you out of a sad mood.

 Those are my odd quarks. I’m sure that these blogs will expose more of my little qurks, but for now, I’ll just leave it at that.

Cheers!

Hello world! January 15, 2008

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