Locker Room

I grew up in a family of five. But it was kind of a weird family of five because I had three siblings who were older....like, WAY older ( I may be slightly off here but I believe my older siblings were ages 17, 14 and 13 when I was born). And the brother who was just four years older than me... well lets just say that for all intents and purposes I was basically an only child, with some of the joys of having siblings thrown in there like being impaled by horse chestnuts* each fall and having to look at him turn his eyelids inside out while in the backseat of the car (gives me the heebie jeebies just thinking back on it).

What I am trying to say here, is that I never learned how to be a girl. Really, I didn't. I mean sure, I would sneak off with Stef at recess and discuss the intricacies of menstruation. But I didn't exactly have anyone around who I could mimic- learn the ins and outs of being cool, of boys, and most importantly of things like make-up.

I mean, sure, I tried to mimic my mom, but when I did that I wound up shaving off an eyebrow and cutting my eyelashes off. Still not sure what happened there, but I was just trying to do something that my mom did.

What I lacked was someone two or three years older who was infinitely cooler than myself, who could be my mentor, and I simply didn't have that.

The moral of the story is that the locker room at the gym baffles me. There are people in there primping and prepping in ways that I never even imagined. People probably think it's a bit odd to see me gawking as they pucker up and apply layers of make-up, but....I still don't know how.

Basically what I am getting at here is.... I saw someone blowdrying their eyelashes yesterday. And I don't understand why. Is this something I should be doing? I am kind of panicky about it because I can sense a revisiting of the whole "shave the eyebrow" incident, only this time involving fire and eyesight impairment rather than just social suicide.

What else am I missing out on? And for the love, will someone just invite me over for a sleepover and teach me the fine art of putting on eyeshadow? I'm 28 years old, I think it's time I know.




*What is a horse chestnut you ask? The most ridiculous, pointless, stupid kind of nut there is. It's like a poisonous nut wrapped in, basically, the thorniest, pokiest, weapon like shell. We had a giant horse chestnut tree out back which rendered our backyard completely useless. Give me fire ants any day. Apparently it is tradition in our family to pass on a horse chestnut tree start to your posterity while on your death bed. It's totally beyond me. Not only will I burn the start if I ever get one, I will also take the opportunity (probably before memorial services are even complete) of destroying my parents tree. Whew...I've got some pent up issues here.