beauty blog

I have a style complaint: gladiator sandals. Apologies to those who own a pair or want to own a pair, but I personally think they look hideous. As a nearly five-foot-seven girl, I have thoroughly enjoyed the trend of ballet flats and cute flip flops, because shoes with heels turn in me into a monster, at least height-wise. However. I do not approve of gladiator sandals. At all. And I don't think I ever will. I tried really, really hard to like them because I thought "Ou! A new style of flats! Perfect." But I couldn't bring myself to like them even the littlest bit.

So recently, I've been noticing my affinity for low-cut tops. I went to a private, Catholic high school, so we wore uniforms with dress shirts buttoned up to our eyeballs. It's taken two years in college for me to realize that, hey look! everyone is showing The Cleavage. Until recently, I felt weird and uncomfortable wearing low-cut shirts, because I felt like I was too uncovered and that everyone was staring. Plus, I've never been particularly well-endowed, so I sometimes forget that I actually do have boobs. (I think that in my mind, I'm perpetually flat-chested. What a trip I'll be in for when I have kids.) Anyway, it's quite liberating to show The Cleavage. That's shallow, but I'm not going to lie about it. It makes me feel awesome, like I've suddenly become part of the Girls with Boobs club.

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This morning, at the ungodly hour of 3:30am, I decided to paint my nails. What I failed to realize was that my nail polish collection is probably completely expired, considering the contents of nearly every bottle had separated. I tried to remember why I had even acquired any of these bottles because, um, I've been biting my nails since age eight. I think some of them came with those massive make up kits you get when you're in middle school because you want so desperately to bulk up your make up collection, even if it means sacrificing quality for quantity. Others were purchased in fits of confidence, when I truly believed that THIS TIME I WOULD REALLY STOP. FORREALS. The rest were bought during moments of complete acceptance, when I knew their sole purpose would be for painting my toenails.

Still, I can't remember the last nail polish I purchased, which means it's definitely been a couple of years. I'm pretty sure the shelf life is somewhere between one and two years. That frustrates me, because I hate throwing out things I've never even used. It makes me feel incredibly wasteful. But I just checked out this website, and with the exception of a few of my beauty products, it suggests I need to throw out almost everything I have. At the same time, though, I've been meaning to go through my make up because I don't even use most of it anymore. I just keep holding on to stuff, like bizarre-colored eye shadow, "just in case."

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I just realized the actual amount of things I have to do to prep for Wednesday. I don't know if I've fully explained what Lion's Fest is, but basically, it's a campus-wide carnival that my organization puts on at our school. Anyway, we've decided to provide breakfast to everyone who's participating, and I'm in charge. That means I have to buy orange juice, butter, cream cheese, and an insane amount of bagels. I'm also writing out thank-yous and making little favors for all the participating clubs, so add to my shopping list baggies and candy. I can pretty much buy all of that ahead of time, except for the bagels, so right now I'm having that internal battle of whether I should go out now or wait until Tuesday afternoon. I'm leaning towards going now because not only do I want to procrastinate, but I'm using that backwards logic of how I've already wasted so much of the day, so why stop now? Right.

So I guess that's what's happening right now - I'm going food shopping for Wednesday. Um. Bye?