Thursday, June 18, 2009

Steady as she goes.

There are a lot of things in life that I choose to be ignrorant about; basketball, reality television, how life insurance works, and lady stuff. For instance, if I am watching television and a commercial for a feminine product comes on, that's generally the end of my television watching - I'll go find something else to do. (Part of the reason for this is that if a commercial like that comes on, I know I'm probably watching a show intended for an entirely different audience than I thought.)

It's not just feminine products though. I'm also willfully ignorant of makeup. I know that most women wear it, and I know that there is a process of putting it on, but I have never watched it done. My wife wears makeup, but I couldn't tell you exactly what or how much, or even what brand. I can confirm 100% that she wears lipstick, because I have seen her putting it on in the car. Other than that, it's all a mystery to me, and that makes me very happy. I don't have a problem with makeup, but I do believe that some things in a relationship should remain a mystery. If you ask my wife, housework is also one of those things that I choose to remain ignorant about, but that is a blog with a different name:

How does this all relate to the train, you ask? I was given a crash course in makeup application yesterday. I got on the train a little late, which generally means more people, and that leads to a better chance of wierd behavior. This older (mid to late 40's?) woman got on the train, sat down, and proceeded to unfold this rag and put it on her lap.

I wish my phone had zoom, because you lose a lot without seeing exactly how the rag looks - it's covered in blue, black, pink, and brown stains. It's a lot like a shop rag, but much more colorful. She then proceeded to lay out her working tools. Several compacts came out of her bag, along with several different brushes and tubes, all of which were laid out on her rag. She started by applying a basecoat of something over her entire face.
This took a couple of coats of different stuff, and about two train stops to get things just right. You can't see it in the picture because I didn't have a good angle, but the woman next to her was also applying makeup at the same time - she was yapping away on her cell phone the entire time though, and not taking it as seriously as our the woman in the brown shirt. After the basecoat came the eye makeup.
This took a couple of different things from different compacts. I believe she ended up with two tone eyelids at the end of the entire process, which took about 3 train stops. After the eyeshadow it was time to curl her eyelashes. I've seen one of these tools in the bathroom before, but I've never seen it used - I had no idea you had to squeeze your lashes for 5 or more minutes each. It was very surreal watching someone do this in public. At this point, her seatmate was finished and had already put away her makeup kit.
After using her lash tool, it was time to apply mascara. I didn't get a good photo of the mascara process, but I'm sure most of you are familiar with that. It was the next step that really made this whole process worth writing about. After she put her mascara away, she got out a safety pin and proceeded to separate her lashes with it. On the train. That bounces a lot.
If you look closely at the photo, you can see that her mouth is open in an "o" shape, I guess to enable her to open her eyes even wider. I don't have any pictures of myself at this moment, but I can guarantee you that my mouth was making the same "o" shape. I, however, was making mine in shock as opposed to trying to keep my eyes open as wide as possible in order to wave a giant safety pin around them. I could not believe it. In fact, in writing about it now I am getting a little shiver down my spine. The DART train is a rough ride - I can't think of any part of the ride downtown that is smooth enough for me to even let go of the handrail I hold onto, much less smooth enough to comb my eyelashes with a sharp metal instrument designed to poke holes in stuff.
After she finished her daredevil stunt, Lady Steadyhands put her makeup in the bag, shook off her little rag on the floor, and proceeded to read the paper, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I have 2 questions about this woman; 1. Is it really that important to sleep that extra 25 minutes, so important that you are willing to share the intimate process of making yourself up for the day with a bunch of strangers? 2. Are you a brain surgeon with hands that steady? If not, you have the wrong career.

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