I have a sty in my eye.  It appeared while I was on vacation and then it moved around.  Sometimes it was in my right eye, sometimes in my left, sometimes on the top lid, sometimes on the bottom.  This vacation was a really active one, where we woke up and blasted out of the hotel, eager to get to some Canadian adventure or other.  So, I did what was necessary—I put my contacts in and coated that gross little bastard with a thick streak of eyeliner every morning and didn’t give it a thought until bedtime.  Being a family of five, we brought everything with us on our vacation but the kitchen sink, oh, and anything to remove eye makeup.  So, I used baby wipes.  Yes, I realize that they have drug stores in Vancouver, too, and I could have easily popped in to any one of them and bought myself some proper eye makeup removal products.  But, we were always in kind of a hurry to see the sights and I didn’t even think about it until each night, when I stood there, baby wipe in hand, gazing at the red pustule on my eyelid.

Back home, I returned to my responsible self and Googled “sty.”  I’d never had one before, so the whole zit-on-your-eyelid thing was a new phenomenon to me.  I found out that they have a few causes—one, stress (traveling with three kids can be stressful, even if you’re super-wonderful-perfect-mommy such as myself), two, bacteria (yeah, I guess we were exposed to some new and different germs here and there), and three, improper or incomplete removal of eye makeup (Doh!)

I have some antibiotic ointment on hand (from someone else’s pink-eye some time or another), and I’ve treated my sty with that (treated the hell out of it).  I also threw out my (disposable) contacts and got a fresh pair (after medically bombarding the sty for a couple of days), and bought a new contact lens case.

But, the best part was buying new makeup.  I know you’re “supposed to” change out your makeup every three months.  But, who the hell does that?  Not me.  As it was, my mascara was fairly new because it was an item in one of those universally coveted Free Gifts from Clinique.  But, the bottle before that one?  Bah.  Years old.  YEARS old.  Without incidence of sty, I must mention.  My eyeliner was pretty damn old, too.  And the eye shadow was another Free Gift from Clinique, but from a former Clinique era, which meant it must’ve been about 8.  Yeah, eight, as in almost as old as my middle child.  If they mean for you to change out your makeup every three months, then why the fuck do they put eight years’ worth of product in the containers?  Granted, I don’t wear makeup every single day, so for another person, maybe this would be like 4 years’ worth.  But, still.

I know I talk the big, hairy feminist talk.  But, deep down, I am a girly girl.  I may not wear makeup every day, but boy, given the opportunity to buy all new stuff, it was a friggin’ event, I tell you.   I researched the mascaras (for non-clumping) and had a ball checking out the eye shadows and eyeliners in the cosmetic aisle at Target.  I bought two sets of mascaras and eyeliners (because I’m blond and my lashes are invisible without inking), brown for when I want to look natural and black for when I don’t!  I bought eye shadows, and eyelash combs and new pointy applicators.  I figure this will  tide me over until the next Clinque goodie bonanza.  Then I came home to set it all up.  I organized my makeup box, tossing out anything that didn’t look sparkly and new.  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was doing this, wearing glasses, with a shiny eye (from the medicine) and I felt downright unworthy for my new stuff.  So, I ran out and got a haircut. 

Now, it’s all sitting there, waiting for the right occasion to break into it.  It reminds me of waiting for the first day of school as a kid, when you’ve got your new outfit chosen and laid out to put on for the first time that day, your new lunch box, your new backpack and all those unused pencils and notebooks and scissors.  You just know that all this new stuff is going to do the trick.  It’s going to transform you from the dull, imperfect person you were before to the funny, stunning, organized, straight-A, popular person you’ll be this year.  You just know it. 

Of course, being the wizened woman that I am, I know that isn’t going to happen.  What happen anyway?  George Clooney drops in at tae kwon do and my Waterproof Great Lash somehow obscures my twenty extra pounds and makes forgivable my stretch marks and c-section scars and he convinces me to leave my husband and children behind and run off to Lake Como with him?  Nah, new makeup doesn’t make you stupid any more than it makes you irresistible.  But, somehow it is fun to realize that deep inside us there is a little belief that the magic inside a compact will erase all your faults.  And, that pretty can come in a bottle.

Just so I’m not completely disappointed, I’m not going to wear the makeup until I lose a couple more pounds.  Or Thursday.  Whichever comes first.  

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