yours, tiramisu

sephora nights and early flights

On my flight back home today I noticed a hint of eyeshadow left over in the corner of my eye. I didn't put it there myself; yesterday night, to celebrate my last night in the city, my friends took shopping at the mall and we ended up in Sephora (as mall hangouts with gals are wont to do). As they drew on their hands and arms with lipstick and glitter, I walked aimlessly through the aisles reading display labels and glancing at the employees trying to figure out which pair of us cat-hair-covered friends were a couple1. I smelled so many perfumes by the time the mall closed my nose went on strike.

When we got back to the apartment the night devolved into a makeup free-for-all as my friends tried out their new products. They quickly ran out of space on their own faces to test out all the looks they wanted and ended up using me as a test canvas. Over the next three hours, I sat as they patted, dabbed, blended, painted, and rubbed my face with all sorts of foreign products: primer, foundation, concealer, contour, eyeshadow, mascara, eyeliner, brow gel, and glitter are the ones I can remember. Throughout the ordeal my friends explained to me what each product was and showed me how it accentuated certain aspects of my face. It was surprisingly fun and educational, even if I didn't dig the post-rave raccoon look.2

We must have been a funny sight, three best friends fully made-up playing Wavelength in the wee hours of the morning, howling with laughter and surrounded by mountains of products. Moments like these remind me how I recognize true friendships—even while doing some otherwise relatively mundane tasks, we delighted in each others' company and made some unforgettable memories. I don't know when the next time we'll all be together is. I miss them so much already, their warm mirth, quiet kindness, and steadfast support.


Apparently my old car broke down while I was gone, so my parents decided to buy a Tesla to replace it. This news would have thrilled adolescent me, back when I idolized the cars' futuristic design and underdog status, but now that Elon has outed himself as the world's most insufferable manchild (to put it lightly), I'm a lot more ambivalent about this purchase. If anything I think I might even feel a little bit ashamed to drive one of 'his' cars, to support someone whose idiotic theatrics play on a world stage. Am I excited to finally drive a car with a rearview camera? Of course. Am I still going to miss my early-2000s car with its physical knobs and dials from an automaker not spearheaded by a world-famous clown? You bet.

  1. If you guessed none of us, you'd be right!

  2. Also, fake lashes are so uncomfortable; I don't know how people get used to them.

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