makeup

Last Sunday I returned to Okazaki from a weekend trip to Tarui. On Monday morning I realized that I had failed to return with a towel and my makeup.

The towel wasn't a concern. I was without roommate at the time and I have no qualms about drying myself off with the random peices of clothing that I tend to leave lying around.

The makeup was a concern.

Even at 23, my hormones have yet to get their shit straight. They seem to be perfectly happy being set in Pubescent Teenager Mode. While my pimply face may help me to convice people that I am younger than I actually am, I have yet to learn how to appreciate it...that is why I turn to makeup for a confidence boost.

Class on Monday was horrible. I could hardly bear to look up from my textbook to spew out garbled Japanese answers to my teacher's questions, let alone sneak a glance at the really nice French guy sitting nearby. I was simply too ashamed of the state of my face.

After class I braved a trip to the nearby shopping mall, and let a Japanese woman rub all sorts of lotions on my face. Despite the initial embarrassment of having someone give my face so much attention, the experience was totally uplifting. In the end I came away feeling pampered, confident, and beautiful...despite being slightly less affluent.

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