I made a major life change this week. It was one of those things I said I’d never do. I don’t know why I even bother uttering the words. “I’ll never do that,” because nine times out of ten I let myself down.
Sometimes, I have even been haughty in my declarations. I once told a homeschooling friend, “I would NEVER homeschool!”
A couple of years later, she was very kind as she watched me eat crow and ask her advice on curriculum. Three of my children were homeschooled through 7th grade, and the two younger ones will eventually be homeschooled as well. (For the record, my older kids continued their education in a local public high school, so they are educated beyond the seventh grade.)
I once said I would never do the Atkin’s diet, but I did. I was wildly successful until I discovered the Atkin’s bars. I ate so many, I ended up gaining weight.
I said I’d never yell at my kids. Yeah, right.
I said I’d never be happy writing my little stories on anything but a typewriter. I don’t think anyone resisted the computer age more than I did. I fought tooth and nail to keep my sleek orange typewriter, and yet here I am, happily tapping away on my laptop! Typewriter? What’s that?
Given my history, I should have known better than to state, “I will never wear blue eye shadow!” I even wrote an entire article devoted to its horribleness. I said only flaky people and strippers want to look like they’ve spread cupcake frosting onto their eyelids. Well, I’m certainly not a stripper (although I’m slightly scared to say I’ll “never” be one), but I might be a little flaky.
Through a series of Keystone Cop type of events, I locked myself out of the house. My oldest daughter had just returned home from college for the weekend, and was less than thrilled to be locked out with me. She had not even managed to enter the house yet, so she still had her car keys in hand. Unfortunately, we had recently changed the locks, and had not yet provided her with a new house key. (Or maybe that was the plan.)
Hubby was somewhere around Louisville, driving home from Florida with the rest of our kids. With two hours to kill until he arrived with a key, I figured the best thing to do was take daughter’s car and debit card and head to Wal-mart.
I whiled away the time, buying candy for Easter baskets, and picking up the few things I could remember from the list I left locked in the house. With ninety minutes to spare, I wandered into the makeup aisle. I needed a darker face powder to go with the spray tan I said I’d never get. I also dropped a new eyelash curler into my cart, as well as two new pairs of fingernail clippers. I toyed with the idea of liquid eyeliner, but long repressed memories of a previous liquid eyeliner fiasco came flooding back.
And then I saw it. Beautiful shades of blue with names like Turquoise Tempest and Indigo Impact. These are the same colors that catch my attention when picking out paint samples, but I’m always afraid of the commitment. However, eye shadow isn’t really a commitment at all! If I hated it, I could wash it off and no one would be the wiser.
I didn’t hate it exactly, but I decided it definitely was not for me. Unfortunately, hubby loved it! I think it goes back to that whole stripper thing. Or maybe he was reminded of the hot cashier that worked at our local supermarket in 1988.
I wore it for three days, including to church on Sunday. I felt a bit like the dyed eggs in our kids’ Easter baskets. Every time I looked in the mirror, I was shocked all over again. I think maybe the problem is that the rest of my makeup was still very neutral. My powder was translucent, my lip gloss was virtually colorless, and I don’t wear blusher. I probably just need to amp up the rest of the color palette and then my blue eye shadow wouldn’t be so glaringly obvious. For example, the Fire Engine Red lipstick my grandma used to buy from Avon would totally detract from my garish eyes. But I would never wear Fire Engine Red lipstick. Never.
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