I like it online and I like it live and in person. I like here, there or everywhere.
In a box, on a fox, in a mall, in the fall, I like to buy things and then put them on my human person body.
Then I like to gaze upon them, reflecting on my good taste and personal style. Which more and more frequently is involving animal print, and begs the question: what exactly am I advertising? That I’m a mom and I’m 40 but I’m still “wild?”
That I GASP still like sex? Or maybe we should just call it “getting frisky” like the Cunningham parents did on Happy Days.
Well, I do still like getting frisky, but not like Tasmanian Devils do it. If that seems like a non-sequitur, I’ll explain.
I’m worried about the Tasmanian Devil population, as they are said to be dying out at an alarming rate of 90%.
The reason is a Tasmanian Devil highly lethal contagious cancer (!) that is spread from mouth to mouth, causing the Devils to be endangered in the wild.
The cancer is easily transmitted between the Tasmanian Devils because they bite each other while mating and fighting.
The moral of this story is do not get frisky with a Tasmanian Devil, no matter how desperate you are in prison or while visiting Australia with Oprah.
By the way, speaking of Australia, can I just say that actor Hugh Jackman flying in on a wire stunt, cutting his face open near his eye and then going on with the Oprah show like a trooper this week?
If I’m a director, I’m hiring Hugh Jackman on the spot for my next movie. That Aussie is a team player, Mate.
Well, back to the point, and I do have one. I do like getting frisky, but not like a Tasmanian Devil, mind you. I prefer not to be bitten in the face during the act of love and I’m pretty sure I don’t have to use a laser pointer to explain that to my darling husband.
Meanwhile, will someone please save the Tasmanian Devils? Poor little guys. Not cool, cancer, not cool.
Was I talking about…shopping? Oh, right.
So I guess I’ve somehow become a Superfan of singer Katy Perry, although I think she’s also a fan of me because she cast actor Joel Moore, the lead from my blockbuster hit film The Hottie and the Nottie in her Las Vegas video for her song Waking up in Vegas.
She cast him after Hottie was released so I’m pretty sure she saw it first and yes, I’m taking credit for his role in Avatar as well. *Hee*
(Read my first imaginary interview with Katy Perry and Elmo here to see how deep this goes.)
What happened was I saw in In Style Magazine Katy’s “beauty picks” make-up wise, and it compelled me to go buy her brand of eyeliner and concealer at the mall department store. I mean, as I wrote in Hottie, who doesn’t have something to conceal?
Have you been to a department store beauty counter lately? The salesgirls are very done up, it looks like they spent hours upon hours styling their make-up and hair to go to work at a really boring job.
Well, I asked the very nice salesgirl helping me if Katy’s fave eyeliner, a liquid black one, was waterproof. I like waterproof so I don’t have to worry about it running down my face if I start sobbing in my laundry room.
Salesgirl: It’s not waterproof, but it’s kind of…water resistant.
Me: Oh, well, I cry a lot.
Me: Well, you know, I’m a mother.
(She looks at me blankly.)
Me: You know, will it stay on if you tear up?
Salesgirl: What? I don’t know what that is.
Me: Not cry cry exactly, will it smudge when you just get emotional and…mist over?
(The robot salesgirl looks at me blankly.)
Soooooo…I bought the waterproof one instead.
In the meantime, I complimented the other salesgirl on her hair, which was really thick and beautiful and styled within an inch of its life. If she didn’t want to be noticed, she wouldn’t have done up her make-up within two inches of “drag queen” and stayed up all night doing her hair.
She threw me a weak “thanks,” averted her eyes and then walked away, even though she had no customers to help nor stocking to do.
It was like water off a duck’s back, my compliment to her. Hmmm, I blinked, was that rude? And then I suddenly realized she’s twenty years old. Oh. I probably accepted compliments like that when I was twenty.
I flashed forward to her at 40 and realized she better learn to graciously accept a compliment by then. I guess we’re all still learning how.
Then I was passed to the Other Expensive Brand salesgirl for Katy Perry’s fave concealer.
She had green fingernails, this salesgirl, painted green on purpose. Is this the new look, post mortem?
She was nice and she saw a burn mark on my hand, I burned it this week while washing a hot frying pan after cooking eggs. She asked “Do you want me to try to…cover that?”
The embarrassing moments never end, do they? I also couldn’t fit into my designer splurge fresh-out-of-the-dryer jeans when I left the house that day, they had shrunk to itty bitty, so I threw on an old pair from Forever 21 35. The 19 dollar ones. So not only do I look old and burned, I look cheap and tacky.
I said “yes” about her covering my burn mark and ended up buying the concealer too, but I didn’t have a brush to apply it with, so she sold me the brush. Which was nearly 30 dollars. For a synthetic brush.
Well, there goes my retirement fund. Now I truly see why I buy cosmetics at the drugstore.
I’m a drugstore whore and I blame Katy Perry.