Waste arrived last night. Yesterday I washed my towels and sheets and got the dirty clothes off the bedroom floor in preparation for his arrival. And I even broke out the eyeliner. Yes, I know, I lived with him for almost two years and he isn't impressed by "look, mary ann put on make-up" anymore. But he knows, I'm afraid of eyeliner.
I could go on and on about how my eyes are entirely too dark for my face and how I think that means the my entire appearance is much improved by anything that doesn't make my eyes just look like two navy blue spots on a white backdrop.
I have blond eyelashes and eyebrows and before I dyed it most of the hair in the front of my head was blond. And I'm pale. Very very pale. And the white part of my eye is blue. A shade of blue that is darker than my complexion. So, I think that any eye makeup that helps my eyes look less like some alien just dropped them in my head as a way of saying "we were here" and more like they actually belong in my head is a good thing. That means making my eyelashes and sometimes even whatever you call the area where eyeliner goes darker than the lightest part of my eyes.
That was the condensed version.
But eyeliner frightens me. Basically it's the proximity to my eyeball. I've got no problem sticking things in my eyes. Less problem than most people actually. But taking my coordination levels and adding a sharp stick and then trying not to poke myself in the eye? Doesn't seem that likely to me.
So, Waste appreciated my efforts.
I'm having much fun with him. He is very entertaining and useful.
