I cannot get my fake eyelashes off. I tried a different kind for my photo shoot with tim yesterday. I wanted to be prepared for the close scrutinization of the camera so I bought the lashes that come in "individual clusters" rather than a whole strip that sticks straight to your eyelid. Well, apparently the individual clusters weren't the only thing different about these. apparently, the adhesive that goes with them is meant to give you lucious fake-looking lashes for days on end. the box says that rubbing the eyes with baby oil will cause the lashes to just "fall off." well, it only gave me a really oily face. the lashes are still there.
What else is new? I printed off the fifteen page application for the Cycle 11 of America's Next Top Model. No laughing at me, please... this is my dream. Other than that, I've enjoyed a few days of catching up with my Springfield friends while we are all home from break. We do a horrible job of maintaining contact while we're at our respective schools, but at least its easy to pick up where we've left off when we reunite.
I've also been reading a lot. Jane Austen books. I get really into these and then I find myself using words and sentence structures that aren't very common anymore like, "I quite like that" or "want" when I mean "lack" (as in "there is nothing wanting in his address or countenance.") And while strange, there is nothing so very harmful in my adopting these grammatical tendancies. It does, however, cause one to feel ill-satisfied with the direction of one's life when each and every book ends with such touching and appropriate matches made, in which the young people find that there is someone perfect for them in every aspect. There is an attatchment (meaning, they "like one another") and they are generally equal in rank and fortune (which is very important in those times.) Etc. etc.
I honestly think that if Jane Austen books came in unlimited supply, I might be able to subsist in life having my "romance-quota" met solely by reading about people like Mr. Darcy and Mr. Knightley. Actually, I think that is precisely what Jane Austen herself did. I wonder if she would have chosen to have it that way.
Man I wish I could get these eyelashes off.