Hello, everyone! I hope your weekend was marvelous and that whatever emotion you had invested in the Super Bowl did not result in disappointment. Sunday was a little strange for me. Mostly because I had no Super Bowl party to go to and I don’t really like football. So I did what any girly girl would do; Makeup. I put “Cosmic Love” by Florence + The Machine on repeat and let the song take my imagination where it wanted to go.
The look was crazy, but I liked it. I would never wear it in public, but that’s not what I was going for. Imagine my anger when the makeup and my face ended up looking awful in all the photos I took. We’re talking the most unphotogenic thing I’ve ever seen. Allow me to demonstrate:
So I decided that if I was going to be ugly, antisocial and uninvited to Super Bowl parties, I was going to be extremely ugly, extremely anti social and banned from Super Bowl parties. I went rogue.
Then I decided to just kill myself.
Don’t you think I kinda look like Mischa Barton in The Sixth Sense?
Something started coming over me. I felt a certain oneness with the camera in accepting my death. With this newfound something inside of me, I decided to glam up my deadface into the Grim Reaper. Of sorts.
So that was how I spent my evening. I have to say, I’m nowhere near as ashamed as I should be. Maybe I’ll rock one of these looks come Halloween. Or maybe I’ll wear one to class and then I’ll totally get a boyfriend. Or maybe not.