That time I tried to perfect the smoky eye and raged at Adele

Was going to a mom party where we get all glitzed out and fight over cookbooks. Thank you, girlfrann Joy.

So of course I decided to bust out the smoky eye. And by that I mean I took 40 minutes total to research smoky eye shadow on Pinterest using my particular eye shadow palette, tailored to my particular eye color. Then another 20 to follow along and another 20 to correct my mistakes so that I didn’t look like a wax figure in Madame Tussauds. Thanks all-girls high school, thanks for skipping over that whole chapter where you’re supposed to master eyeliner applications that don’t look like electrocardiograms on the ol’ eyelid. Memorizing the epilogue to the Tales of Canterbury was clutch, though.  You just can’t imagine how often I quote Chaucer on the daily, while applying eye primer.

After I finally got the special effects where I wanted ’em, I snapchatted smoky eye game on fleek because social media rules.

Drove to mom party. En route, Adele’s new song “When We Were Young” cues on FM dial and let me state for the record that that song is a nuclear weapon. One moment, you’re just riding in the car to your mom party looking shnazz and the next moment, Adele is hefting onto your lap all the anguish and catharses that everyone who has ever fell in love has ever experienced including all the characters alive and dead on Grey’s Anatomy and suddenly the 4.5 hours you spent on your eye shadow is blobbing off into rivers and snowdrifts and you are looking for the windshield wipers for your eyes because you are about to arrive to the mom party looking like you spent the last 3 nights in the poky.

And isn’t it ironic that Adele, whose smoky eye game is on a whole ‘nother level, whose eyelashes are the same ones used for centuries to paint Italian frescoes, and who sings everything with the most perfectly breathy brassy ache, just became a mother herself. Of all people, you’d think she’d be more respectful of the smoky eye perfected for the mom party. I can’t help feeling she knew I could have had it all. Instead I was rolling in the deep. Of the feels and black eyeliner.

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This was the only picture I took, screenshotted from my snapchat. Oh there’s a barfy sentence if you want.
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The gal in the foreground is my optometrist. She’s a total babe and might be single. Apply within. 
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Loved how Christa looked with her big pink prezzie. 
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Thank you for wonderful book party memories, Joy. “Calhoun Rocks!”
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