Tag Archive | Makeup

Being a Lady

I take a huge bite out of the greasy sandwich I’m eating, instantly hiding it under the table, pretending that I don’t have food in the no-food school library. The librarian shoots me a glare that would make a bloodsucking mountain goat recoil in fear, but at this point all I can think about is eating before my afternoon classes start, so I shoot him my sweetest smile, completely forgetting that my mouth is full of tomato and cheese. His eyes widen in horror as I quickly gather my books and dump the rest of my lunch in the trash. As I pass the front desk I stub my toe in the doorframe and utter a string of swear words as he chuckles and looks away so I don’t see him laughing at me. Yeah, as if. Nice try dude.

Being the perfect lady has never been a particular goal of mine, but as I progress through life and have people say things like “No spitting contests. They’re so unladylike.”, it does force me to think of what being a lady is all about. So, without further ado, here is The Mostly Confused Teenager’s guide to being a lady.

#1: Be Respectful of Others
Some would call this first rule “be kind”, however I tweaked it purposely because in my humble opinion life would be a complete drag if you couldn’t tease people just a little bit. I guess that you could just implement the rule that teasing and ribbing (are those the same things?) are fine up until the point where you’re causing pain through your words. Now now, I can already hear your cries of protest: “CT, laughing at someone is always wrong!” Well, yes; but my wise sixteen year old self knows that some relationships are based pretty much purely on insults and fake-loathing and that those friendships are worth everything in the world. So in a short, babble-free resume: teasing = OK, one-way insulting = well… guess. Bad (duh.)

#2: Make Your Own Choices
You all know the meek “we can do whatever you want” type. I’m not talking about normal polite people who can easily go with the flow, but rather people like my mother. I love my mom to bits and would without a doubt jump off a cliff to save her (although I’m not sure in which circumstances this would ever take place), but she annoys me to no end by having no particular opinion about most anything. Ladies, if you want to do something, as long as it doesn’t involve insulting nuns in their presence, go ahead! Being a lady means being a person, and being a person means standing up for yourself and for what you believe in.

#3: Respect Yourself
This suggestion ties in with the previous one. A lot of people would say that being a lady entails having perfect hair and makeup at all times, having the posture of a telephone poll and dressing like a 1950’s housewife. I think that that’s cow poop. The basics are hair that doesn’t have capybaras living in it, a face that doesn’t look like a grizzly bear gave it two black eyes and no bikinis (or equivalents) in business meetings. Other than that, do whatever the hell you want, within reason! Respect yourself and, generally, others will respect you.

In short (yeah, ironic I know), being a lady means being yourself. There are no 100,000 commandments to obey to the letter; there are only a few guidelines to follow. Swear, get sweaty, eat pizza with your hands and get it all over your face… And most of all, have fun. Otherwise, what’s the point of being anything at all?

Live long and prosper \V/
Yours sincerely,
The Mostly Confused Teenager

PS: On the 3rd of August 2014, TMCT turned one. Happy Birthday to the best little blog this girl could wish to run!

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How to Get Ready in a BIG hurry

For effing school.I don’t often oversleep, but when I do, it’s bad. This morning was the first time that I needed an alarm clock all summer and guess what moron slept right thru it and almost missed her train? My brother. Crap that doesn’t make any sense. OK OK it was me. During the school year I make sure to get up an hour before I have to leave, do nothing for 45 minutes and then dash around collecting myself in the last 15 minutes. Granted, I always end up arriving at school in a daze at the last possible second, but HEY! I MAKE IT.

Of course as the new school year is about to start I have made a whole lot of meaningless resolutions about not going on Facebook or checking the score of the game in the mornings, but I know full well that I’ll never keep them. It’s just fun to think that I might not have to run around like a madwoman tripping over dogs and getting attacked by cats because I look like one big glob of edible something or other darting about at the speed of light.

Here are my secrets to getting ready fast.

#1: Prepare your bag and outfit the day before

I’ve done this about… um… once, and it truly saves you a huge amount of time in the morning, if you’re willing to do it. Because I am a naturally lazy person, I am not. This refusal to comply with my mother’s constant reminders ends in the dismal fact that I always forget something important and that nothing fragile can ever survive in my bag. Although to be fair that might also have something to do with the fact that I have two heavy rocks at the bottom of it. Why? I picked them up on a beach in Cassis and my friend and I swore our friendship over them. Yes, we were two crazy teenagers who took the rocks into class and wrote our names on them. Deal with it. As for the outfit part of this suggestion, I generally spend way too long trying different things on (first world problems right?). The best day is when I have nothing left but a top, a pair of jeans and a hoodie in my closet, at which point my selection becomes so much easier. So basically, if I don’t do my laundry I save time. My mom would love this. [Sheldon Cooper sarcasm sign]

#2: Things don’t go well if you decide to start making pancakes 20 minutes before you have to leave.

Especially if you’re still in your pajamas, hair shooting in all directions and eyes barely open. This has happened to me, because who wouldn’t want some delicious, creamy, sweet pancakes piping hot off the griddle before school? No one. Unless of course you are a person who promotes healthy living and eats a breakfast of fruit and yogurt (oh look Mom, you’re in the post again!), in which case you are an exception –> quick interlude here, how DO you do it? It sounds so… so… I can’t even find the words. Now some of you might have been blessed with parents who put an assortment of breakfast foods out on the table the night before; I was not, my parents are the “figure your sh*t out by yourself” type. The best bet is to know beforehand what you are going to have for breakfast so that you won’t stand around making a mental selection in front of the fridge for 10 minutes.

#3: Drink

Alcoholic beverages are not recommended, but a strong cup of coffee or tea might just make you look and feel alive enough to drag yourself through the house collecting your stuff before lumbering off to school/work. I must warn though that this pointer is not for everyone. By this I mean that if I drink coffee in the morning, I turn into a hyperactive panda with wide eyes who can’t stand still, and although being a panda can be quite nice, it’s best not to be one just before a big math test.

#4: Makeup, in perspective, is not important

For all the girls out there going “Whaaat?!”, I feel just like you, but let’s lay it out. Would you rather have your teacher humiliate you in front of the whole class while you wish you were home, in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie; or go an hour looking naturally weird before you can make a run for the bathroom? Your choice. I choose spending first period looking like a Confused Teen all while wishing that I was at home, in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie. It’s the best of both worlds.

#5: Keep your wits about you

The worst thing you can do is panic like I do. As luck will often have it, the morning when you need to get ready the fatest also happens to be the morning when you look like a lethargic chimpanzee. Whatever you do though, make sure it doesn’t involve running around in circles effectively doing nothing. This rountinely causes extra stress which frizzles my hair; yes, when I’m really stressed out it appears as if a bird made it’s nest on my head, bad breath (to my dismay I found out that a mint does NOT replace toothpaste), hyperventilation, choking on the piece of toast you’re trying rather unsuccesfully to shove down your throat, dizziness and even death, if all of these things happen at the same time. Keep calm and eat a cookie! Well, you might not have time to eat a cookie, but stay composed anyway.

Upon further reflection of these five suggestions I find that me myself and I, author of this post, does not respect any of them. And since I am the very model of horrible organization, I can only conclude that if one were to follow these rules, that person might actually have a chance of getting out of life alive. Hold on now, that doesn’t make any sense. If one were to follow these rules, that person might actually have a chance of getting out of the house on time without looking like a puddle of melted jello. Better?

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: This post was inspired by one over at Parisianettes, check it out here: http://parisianettes.blogspot.fr/2013/08/getting-ready-fast-in-morning-for-school_25.html

The Importance of Appearance

Good people of the Internet, I know you not so I don’t feel bad about admitting this: I am a what could be considered as a slob. Not in the sense that I live in a dumpster filled with old cookie wrappers and Mets stat sheets (although that has happened on occasion) but in my appearance. What I mean is that if I don’t really try, I don’t look presentable to society. And although I pretend that I don’t really care, I hate to admit it, but I do.

Let me paint you a picture. With my words, because let’s face it; I pretty much suck at actual painting. I’m the quintessential ‘looks OK albeit a bit weird at school and acts like a relatively normal person but as soon as she gets home slips into her cosy bathrobe and padded slippers to curl up and watch the highlights of the game with a chocolate bar.’ When I’m home, I don’t care about how I look anymore, there’s no one to judge me, except for my parents, my brother, the dog and the cat. Actually you’d be surprised how judgemental my cat can be.

I interact everyday with people who look perfect, without a hair out of place (well, take my dad out of the mix, he looks like Einstein) and my hair looks like a rat’s nest. Even though I have a hairbrush at the ready permanently in my bag, my problem is far from solved. I cut it to just over my shoulders in an attempt to restrain it… and it laughed in my face. Like, not literally, because I would freak out (where the hell would the mouth be?) but you understand. It didn’t work.

I started putting makeup on in 9th grade because I hoped that it would distract the eye from how red and flustered I got when my crush spoke to me. At first it worked, although only because I put waaay too much on and I looked like a Barbie doll. I toned it down and realized that it actually really helped my overall appearance.  In a year, I haven’t learned much; I still stick my mascara in my eye every morning and have abandoned the idea of ever wearing eyeliner because it makes me look like a demented raccoon, but I have learned that a little blush, lipgloss and mascara can do wonders for your self-esteem.

No matter how much I wish I didn’t care, I still find it important to look, well, acceptable in front of other people. Even though the saying says don’t judge a book by its cover, people do. In the street, people judge you with their eyes. At school, people judge you by your voice. It’s tough, but it’s life. And as someone who looks naturally like a… um… Plain Jane, I find reality hard to swallow.

But all in all, I am who I am, and even if I don’t look like the perfect poster girl, I’m alright. Acceptance is important to me, and although I will always tweek my hair and mess with my concealer (have you ever tried making drawings with it during class? Try it, it’s fun! Or, you know, funner than strictly decreasing functions) if people can’t accept me, then I can’t accept them, and frankly, they’re not worth it.

Live long and prosper \V/

Yours sincerely,

The Mostly Confused Teenager.

PS: sorry for the depressed teen rant tonight, tomorrow will be something a little lighter 😉