Friday, April 4, 2008

When the Make-Up Gets Scraped Off

Well, the photo shoot was a blast. I know I'm not supposed to admit to such vanity, but come on. How can I not love being the center of attention? There were bright lights aimed on me and a man pranced around with a camera in my face saying, "Work it, baby, work it! Aw, the camera loves you, honey!" (So what if I had to pay the guy a little extra to say all that? He was fairly convincing.)

Now if I can figure out how to do it, I'll post a new photo here at this exciting blog site. I'm sure the suspense will be maddening, but try to restrain yourself.

After the hour was over and we'd filled the memory card in the camera--and the photog graciously photoshopped A LOT--it was sadly time for me to retire from Supermodel-hood. I hurried back to pick up my kids from school. The ball was over. Sigh.

The kids didn't really care how much time I spent on make-up; they were hungry. They wanted entertainment. They needed to tell me how unjustly they'd been treated all day long at that horrible institution of learning. I figured life would be easier if their mouths were full.

So, we hit MacD's and went home where I scraped off my make-up and tripped over a pile of laundry. I spent the next hour sorting underwear.

Yep, so much for Cinderella. I was back to being the ugly step-sister.

But not really. The clock might have struck twelve, but it hadn't erased my memory. I knew what I'd been up to that day.

For just a little while I was 17 again, posing for senior pictures and imagining the wonderful life ahead of me. For just a little while I was a star, strutting my own personal red carpet, beaming at an adoring public. For just a little while I was more than I usually am. And sometimes that's enough.

I don't know how long it will be enough, but for a while I'll have a little more mischeif in my smile and a little more pep in my step. I have a little more hope, too, because I've been reminded of something I must have forgotten: that big bag of make-up is still waiting there, under my sink. I can trowel it back on anytime I want.

Just because I may choose not to TODAY doesn't mean I might not choose to TOMORROW. Cinderella is still lurking there, just waiting for the next ball to come around. And it will; it always does.

1 comment:

Saralee said...

LOL! It's soooo sad when the make-up has to come off, isn't it?

When I did my glamour shot thing, lo these many years ago, they really put the makeup on with a trowel. I got the weirdest looks at the grocery store afterwards!

And yes, I could have scraped the cosmetics off at the studio before I left. But I didn't--I just wanted to keep that princess feeling a little longer. You're so right--it doesn't come around very often.

My wedding day had some of that princess feeling, only it wasn't as purely indulgent. I think you're supposed to look more innocent when you get married. Ah, well.

Susan, whether you're sorting socks or strutting your stuff for the camera, you've got it, baby.