I’ve been watching my girls put fake eyelashes on for the last few months.
Large enough to fly away with.
I have three eyelashes that are my very own.
You can’t see them unless I put on mascara.
I hate mascara.
Put it on you have to take it off, right?
on Saturday I was going to speak at the League of Utah Writers and I decided that I was going to wear eyelashes that were someone else’s. Fakies.
Why not be glamorous? Huh? I needed a break and eye lashes seemed to be the answer.
I had Elise help me.
She didn’t put on the vulture size, but a few little ones, fake hairs in groups of threes or twos or ones, all glued down to my lid.
“You have three minutes to do this,” I said.
She said, “Don’t move! Look up! Stop that!”
And I said, “Wait! Why scissors? My eyeballs!”
Believe it or not, she got them on me.
(No one will believe I am a complainer. Not from knowing me or reading this blog. But I am.)
She put on mascara for me. And eyeliner. And eyeshadow.
I was way dressed up.
(I couldn’t find my Nice Mustache! shirt. So I put on a great bra [everyone says it's great] and a shirt thing and then a different shirt.)
Once, a long time ago, I saw AFI in their last concert on a tour DVD. The lead singer, Davey Havok, wore a pair of eyelashes and one was coming off, like hanging-in-his-eye coming off (plus he was way off-key during all the songs except the scream-o parts but I’m not so sure you CAN be off-key in those.). Anyway, I just remember thinking why doesn’t he pull off those eyelashes. He has to notice them. Right in his eyes like that.
Well, now I have walked a mile in Davey Havoc’s way expensive shoes and I’m not so sure he could see them dangling like that because fake eyelashes feel like little elephants on your eyelids. (Small ones.) And it seemed he sang with his eyes closed.
So–I went in to see my own glorious eyelashes and, well, one was way too long.
It looked different than the other,
(Don’t worry Mom people your age don’t mind when their eyelashes look like that.)
(What?! If I’m going to put on Fakes then I want them to look good. Stop laughing. I know I’m old.)
Elise left the scissors behind on the living room floor where we keep all the scissors, it seems.
When I snipped those eyelashes off I didn’t mean to get my real lashes underneath.
Or to go that crooked.
Or to try and hide them when I got in the car.
Or to show them to Cait who said, “Mom, no, ” when she finally got me to take off my sunglasses.
Do you know what????
Not one League person said, “Uh, what happened?”
(They also didn’t tell me how pretty I looked, either. I may have been too beautiful for words.)
They just listened to me chat and were very nice.
I like nice people.
Here’s one of the things I noticed about me.
After I saw what I had done, I shrugged. “Meh,” I said. “People may notice. I don’t even care.”
I don’t care!
A character in my book would have cried three days or walked around with one hand covering that one eye or backed out of going to the prom.
I’d like to say that there is something to learn here, but there’s not.
Except maybe I’m growing up.
Maybe . . . maybe I am getting so old in my head that I won’t write for kids but will start writing for real people (like some have asked before).
Nope. That won’t happen.
So, how about lunch at the Thai Village on Thursday of this week at 1 pm?
Thai Village in on University Avenue in Provo. Across the street from Jim Brady’s law office.
Unless Ann Dee objects.
(I am going to move into Ann Dee’s basement with my girls and let Ann Dee help with my mom who will live upstairs with Ann Dee and her boys so I can just yell up the stairs when I need information. We will watch the boys anytime she wants.)
PS I LOVE AFI. And I went to their concert and knew almost all the tunes (I can’t understand the words) and I didn’t even get trampled to death–or trampled at all–but it was one of the best things I have done in a September. If OFFSPRING come to town, wanna go?
PMS My books arrived!