stretch marks

When I was in high school, there was a teacher who made his classes do these things called "stretch marks". You had to complete a certain number of "stretch marks" per semester, where you get a "stretch mark" for doing something that you've never done before, or swore you'd never do. I guess the point was to make us more well-rounded people who've experienced different things, faced fears, or otherwise stepped outside the box.

Some of you may remember my entry a few weeks ago when I bought my first pink shirt. In high school, I fought it as hard as I could, but in the end gave in and went to my first dance. In a dress. Or how I swore I hated vocal music until I went to see Handel's Messiah and ended up taking Opera my senior year. Or how I said I'd never do a spinning hook kick at a tournament, and then I did.

Yes, compared to most people, who do things like go skydiving - my stretch marks aren't quite so pronounced. Haha, but if you know me, you know that...I like my box. I like it a lot.

So the other day my cousin Gina (who is about an expert in girl as you can get) took me to Sephora. (Sly, these are the things I do for you...) So along with the wearing the dress and shiny silver shoes thing, this whole bridesmaid thing apparently means you have to get made up and do your hair. As much as I dislike the whole getting girlified thing...I figure if I'm going to do it, may as well do it right.

I'm not a fan of putting chemicals on my face to alter my image. I suppose it will make me look nice, but...really, the only thing I like to have on my face is sweat. (I know, so totally attractive). Ironically, I have no problem ingesting chemicals INTO my body for the sake of practical things, like pain relief. But covering up stuff on the surface isn't really my thing.

That being said, I was absolutely floored by the store. So bok-jap-heh, I didn't know where to go during the 5 minutes I was wandering by myself before Gina got there. Some serious panic attack coming on with all the women pushing past me getting from one place to another, grabbing all these little bottles and pencils and whatevers along the way. Or the metro guys getting their fancy cologne or whatever else it is that guys apparently go into Sephora for.

After being whisked around by Gina and getting her expert advice, I emerged poorer but with a bag full of what is apparently the essentials of makeup. She even showed me (on my hand) how to apply it. It's so complicated, I had to take notes. Haha. But thanks geener, it was much less painful than I imagined! =)

By the way, if anyone thinks they're repiercing my ears, there is no way that a sharp metal object is going through my flesh....I've been stretched enough for awhile.

Thank you, Sly, for making your bridesmaids' dresses blue...