So, today was supposed to be my newswriting exam. Unfortunately, due to a chain of misinformation, I and several of my classmates missed it. It was all very exciting (and by exciting I mean stressful and inconvenient) and I should (hopefully) be taking it on Saturday morning. The upshot of it all was that I ended up with an unexpected day off today. I got some serious lounging about done, and also saw Jumanki, which was nice. We went on a quest to find a proper-sized supermarket (Tesco in Surrey Quays, in case you were wondering, although I can hardly describe it as a Dream Destination) to buy some small essentials. I now have new batteries for my camera, among other things.
It's probably time I had a little muse about Black Lipstick week, as this is my second day free of it. I'm very happy about this, which is mostly what I intend to muse about. Firstly, having to wear the same thing every day is boring. When it's make-up, it's very boring indeed, and rather inconvenient. I don't really like dark lipsticks (too much effort, too much tooth-staining potential) as it is, and having to put on exactly the same face would have been annoying enough if it had been a face I liked. Which brings me to my second point: I do not like black lipstick and it does not like me. Overly dramatic/gothy/catwalk/undead is not a look I like. I know it's very boring, but I want my make-up to make me look, well, pretty. It's there to enhance, otherwise I wouldn't bother. Also, as you may have noticed, I am of the Pale Persuasion. Black stood out in my glowingly white face like a clown in a monastery. Not good. Part goth, part gremlin, even I found myself recoiling when I caught sight of the horror in the mirror.
I have touched on the fact that people are much less accommodating of someone who has obviously marked themselves out, and I am still enjoying the return to normality. I appreciated the friendly smalltalk with cashiers this afternoon to an almost pathetic extent. People think I'm nice again! Middle aged women bestow motherly smiles on me on trains! A man with an adorable baby daughter smiled indulgently as Jumanji and I made eyes at her. I can wander into a shop ignored by the security guard. It's really, really wonderful, and I can't believe I ever took it for granted. (And I have a newfound respect for goths, emos, scene kids, gangstas and whatever who go through that alienation every day uncowed.)
I am also really enjoying being able to make myself girly again. On went the pink lipstick this morning, contrasting nicely with my bright blue nails. Did you notice them last post? Here's a closer look (mostly as an excuse to have a picture):
|Blurry blue nails|
They make me happy. I actually love the colour (it's from Miss Sporty (yes, the same purveyor of shoddy black lipsticks! All is (almost) forgiven)), and I think it's quite flattering - it brings out the pink in my skin. I'm having a nail polish moment this month (a very long moment...), as it's my recession treat. For some women it's lipstick (although I'll be going easy on that for a while), the little something that brightens up your day for not too high a price. I think I'll be sticking with the brightest colours I have to counteract any residual goth-ness. I like typing with nail polish on, and the way people glance at my hand on the rail on the underground. A good mood lifter, in short. (Although I'm nowhere near deft enough to try out nail art - managing not to paint my cuticles is about as artistic as I get.)
This was just supposed to be a short post as I need to go to bed. I should probably curb my rambling tendencies, but then what on Earth would I write about? (I hope tomorrow is somehow exciting... I always hope for exciting, photogenic days, so I am not reduced to London Facts again (incidentally, have you noticed that there are barely any homeless people in the Hallowed Shopping District (Oxford Street et al)? So different from Edinburgh. Does the council move them on or are they (rightly) afraid of being trodden on by gawking tourists?))
That is all for now, then. Happy birthday again, father mine. I hope you have had a lovely birthday meal and do not have another House duty before the end of term.