Thursday, October 2, 2014

Lot Lizard Glamour

I’ll never forget the time my dad told me that my eyes looked like twin piss holes in the snow.

(Yes, in case you weren't aware, the blood of a poet father runs through my veins.)


It was early one morning, and I was slumped on the couch, hoping I would meet a premature  death, rather than be forced to fully awaken. Dad looked over his morning paper, and chortled. “Jane, your eyes look like two piss holes in the snow.” Of course he meant that my eyes were tired. Naturally being a female and taking everything the wrong way, I was certain he was informing me in a tough love manner that my eyes were squinty. For awhile after that, I habitually walked around with my eyes widened on a permanent basis, in order to make them look larger. Instead, I looked mildly deranged. I didn't have many friends for a long time.  I was sure it was due to the fact that I was hideous to behold with my squinty eyes, but really it was probably because people were afraid I would roll a grenade down a hallway unannounced one day.


At some point, I learned about the magical world of cosmetics, and with the right application, how they could make my piss hole eyes appear to be like twin sink holes of beauty. People have often asked me “How DO you get all that on your face, and still have time to sleep so much?” I simply smile, for the ability to create a beauty routine like mine is something you’re mostly born with.


Far down my genetic pedigree, I am related to a madame of a whorehouse. (True story) Therefore, I assure you there is no one better who knows how to turn your face from schoolgirl, to call girl. Additionally, I used to waitress at a truck stop. It was a brief, but magical employment, complete with an employee handbook that warned if one was to appear to hang around the grouped parked semis, one would lose their job immediately. From the bottom of my heart, I believe that the truck stop’s firm anti lot lizard policy was due to the fact that if waitresses knew how much better the pay was in the parking lot, there would be nobody left to slop your grits over to your table, and pretend not to hate you while refilling your damn coffee for the six hundredth time.


Well, you know what honey? That double-wide ain’t gonna pay for it’s self.

I’m feeling generous today, and willing to share my tips of the trade.


Let Aunt Jane take you for a walk down leopard print lane, and teach you the basics of lot lizard glamour.


First, let’s take care of some legalities. Remember back in the day how OJ Simpson sort of slaughtered his ex-wife, and her man friend? Then remember how he got off scott free? Of course you do. But did you know that he later wrote a book called “IF I Did It”, which was essentially his confession to the crime? (Oh, Orenthal. You so crazy.) The nifty part is when the father of deceased special man friend was able to legally seize the book and all rights pertaining to it. The father changed the title to “if I DID IT: Confessions of the Killer”. Well, this is my OJ Simpson confession blog, called “IF I Put Makeup On While Driving A Car”. You read between the lines.


I would like to take this time to express to you the importance of only applying makeup to your face while driving when you are the sole occupant of the vehicle. I consider the time in which I am applying my make up to be zen time, and there is nothing less zen than a small child in the back seat screaming, “MOMMY, YOU’RE ABOUT TO CRASH INTO THAT BILLBOARD!” Kids. They think they can drive as soon as they hit the five year mark. I swear.


If you find yourself reading this, and replying, “But Jane. I would never apply makeup while operating a motor vehicle. I have a vanity, not to mention that’s just not prudent.” Do yourself a favor, and stop reading now. This is actually a favor for both of us. Besides, I think you have DVDs to go alphabetize, or something.


Good, now that we’re alone, the meat and potatoes of my blog platter can really be served.

To begin, you want to take that foundation stuff, and smear it all over your face. This can be done quite easily, and if you’re like me, you’ll spill it all over your center console while making a right hand turn. Do not despair, this is a victory in disguise! I came to realize I had mineral powder within reach at all times in my car. Just rub my hand into the change cup, then onto my face, and voila! Instant beauty.


Next up, you want to take your mascara wand, and make your piss holes in the snow look more like a racehorse had peed into the snow, instead of a chihuahua. (Mascara is the item that throws most straight men off. When I've asked boyfriends of past to hand it to me, they end up giving me an eyeliner pencil. I can’t blame them, though. I only recently learned that the star-shaped screw driver was different from the flat-shaped one.) Mascara application is best handled on long stretches of highway, or on the gravel road in front of my house. Get a wand in the eye, and you’ll know why. (Hey, that rhymes.)


Now comes the eyebrows. If you’re like most chicks, you've plucked all your eyebrow hair out, and now we need to draw those suckers back in. Here’s how to apply the eyebrows while driving: Step A, turn your your hand over palm up, and Step B, slap yourself in the face. Don’t ever let me hear you consider that again. Your face is your personal sky, and your eyebrows are your precious clouds. Your clouds are too essential to be applied while doing 65 mph. People, that’s what stoplights and stop signs are for!  


I bet you’re wondering why we haven’t used our medieval torture devices yet! Well, it’s time! Let’s get out those eyelash curlers. Did you know I worked in an ophthalmologist’s office for six years? I learned a lot of important things. Mainly that in my state, you only need one eye legally to drive. That’s right, cyclopes have places to go, too. This knowledge of the law comes in handy when I've clamped one eye shut using my eyelash curler. Look at me, officer, I know my rights! But before I clamp my eye shut, I make sure to first heat up the eyelash curler with the heater vent blowing at full blast. If there are others in the car, and it’s 98 degrees out, they will complain about you running the heat. Again, this is why it’s best to do this on your own. And repeat after me. Sweat stains create an aura of mystery.


You know what these eyes need? Some color. Lots of color. The rule of thumb is one cannot go wrong with 1980s high class hooker blue, all over. However, the difference between then and now, is we do not spread the blue all the way up to our eyebrows like we did in the 80s. Eyebrow space is reserved for other colors on the palate. You can’t go wrong if the eye shadow names contain the words “HOT” or “ELECTRIC”.  We can be subtle when we’re dead. You might end up with some eye shadow crumblies on your cheeks. Do not panic. Also, do not use spit. If you open your glove compartment, you’ll see some extra McDonald’s napkins. These are wonderful for sanitizing your makeup tools, and wiping your face. Tell me what’s more pleasant than the scent of old grease while swiping your cheeks? That’s right. Nothing.


By now, you may have reached your destination. Or you might not have. Either way, we can’t leave this car until we've shellacked our lips with concubine paint. This is your time to really shine, and hang over in your rear view mirror with your mouth wide open. Not only will this aid in applying your chosen lip color, it really looks seductive if any gentlemen happen to be gazing at you from a neighboring car.


Throughout your road trip to somewhere insignificant, and your simultaneous journey to beauty, that there might be other cars honking at you. Pedestrians might be waving their arms, or screaming at you. Police lights might be flashing. Just continue sitting pretty, and realize that they are all just jealous of the glamour you are oozing all over the place.

See you in the parking lot!