Beloveds, it happens. And if you want to show up at church not looking all red around the eyes and nose when it does, here are some handy tips:
1. Wash your face with cool water and and moisturize.
2. If you wear contact lenses, take them out, apply a few drops of Visine to each eye, and replace.
3. Squirt a pea-sized amount of foundation onto the back of your left hand (if you’re right-handed), and use a foundation brush to carefully apply the make-up to the area all around your nose, your chin, your forehead, and most importantly, your eyelids and undereye area. Blend, blend, blend very well. Make sure not to miss the inner corners of your eyes.
4. With a medium finger-shaped brush, apply highlighting powder to the top of your cheekbones and to the inner corners of your eyelids. Also swipe a tiny bit under your eye (on the bags, not the lid).
5. Apply a gray or purple liner on the bottom lids only, smudge well. The purple/blue tones make your eyes look less red.
6. Curl lashes and apply two coats of mascara.
7. Apply a bright, shiny lipstick that makes your face happy.
8. Get the hell out of the house and go take a walk and get some fresh air.
9. Remember what Rosey Grier sang. “It’s All Right to Cry.”
10. Find someone who loves you and practice Thich Nhat Hanh’s hugging meditation.
P.S. Boys, you could still do the washing face and moisturizing and Visine part, then skip to steps 8-10.
I hope you haven’t had to use the advice too often recently.
But next time you use, take before and after pictures. We’re all curious.
Well if the boy clergy is a goth priest he could still partake of the tips between 3-7.
I’m sorry about the crying jag. They suck. The situations that inspire them suck. Having to go and be the beacon of hope and Jesusly love with suckiness happening also sucks. And we all been ‘dere.
You want me to cry and then TAKE PICTURES OF MYSELF? oy, oy, oy…
Dear Rev. Gidget,
Thanks for your caring words. Let me assure you that the “suckiness happening” is all in my little head, and not in my little church, tanks gods.
It’s been a long time since I had to do that. I would also recommend taking an aspirin.
Last time I was in the position of having to disguise a crying jag, I ended up sympathizing with a woman who complained that she was tired and she couldn’t get everything done, etc. I didn’t tell her what I had going on. It taught me a powerful lesson about who I might be complaining to when I complain.