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Guest Post: Eyelash Meltdown

April 15, 2013

My friend M.R. Jordan wrote a blog post for me. I gave her the topic: Eyelashes. I thought it was so easy. Here is what she wrote:long-eyelashes

 

So, author Luke Everest asked me to exchange blog posts. That is I write one for him and he writes one for me. And then I had a thought. Why am I not doing this with Valerie? I like her a lot more than Luke… sorry Luke, but us gals stick together. Okay, that is a pretty sexist justification. The truth of the matter is, you just like some people more than you like others. For example, when I suggested we exchange blog posts and also commanded Valerie to write about cheese, I liked her a lot. I liked her a little less when she commanded me to write about eyelashes. This is a reenactment of the thought processes I’ve been going through ever since:

 

Indignant headvoice: Eyelashes? What the !@#$ am I going to write about that?

 

Whiny headvoice: Cheese is easy. This is totally unfair.

 

Clint Eastwood headvoice: Would you like some cheese with your whine? Stop being a pansy author and write about eyelashes!

 

Time wasting headvoice: Let’s look it up on Wikipedia. I love reading stuff.

 

Clint Eastwood headvoice: Stop being a pansy author and man up.

 

Me: I’m not a man

 

Clint Eastwood headvoice: Good point. Woman up.

 

Me: I am woman hear me roar… about eyelashes.

 

At this point I threw myself onto the floor. If you read my blog, you know why. If you don’t read my blog than this probably requires some explanation. Unfortunately I can’t explain it. However, someone happens by. On this day I happened to be in Wal-mart in the eyelash aisle. Have you ever tried to get to that place? Me too. It’s pretty much impossible.

 

So there I was on the floor, racks of fake eyelashes and glue, thinking about what happens if you used super glue and accidently glued your eyes shut, when along comes a manager on a forklift. He sees me sitting on the floor. He looked down at me. I looked up at him. He set the pallet down at the end of the aisle, the forklift going down slowly, slowly, slowly. And without a word he drove away.

 

Not much later, some cashiers showed up to restock the eyelash shelves. Without a word, they stepped over me to hang more fake eyelashes. And glue. Lots and lots of glue. As I watched them restock the shelves I decided to buy my first set of fake eyelashes.

 

Okay, so all, part, or none of this really happened. But I finally did write something about eyelashes. Tada!

 

 

 

~

 

M.R. JORDAN 

 

 

From → Miscellaneous

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