OK, so I have to get this off my chest… (actually, I better just leave what’s already on my chest, on my chest as to not interrupt nature’s delicate balance, and in my case my balance is very delicate… with regards to my chest, I digress…) It’s no wonder after sitting in front of a mirror for a week in a room full of 18-23-year-olds, that I may be dealing with some self esteem issues, particularly regarding age. Currently in my class, I am the only mom, one of 2 that has been married, the only one who has been divorced, and of course the only one who has done it twice… But there have been a few other factors contributing to my insecurity regarding my age. Currently I am one of 2 who is not enamored of Justin Timberlake (yes this was a lengthy and somewhat heated discussion today), one of 2 who does not have a boyfriend whom I call on lunch break, as a matter of fact I am sure I am the only one who is waiting for a fax from my divorce attorney on my lunch break. I am also in the minority when it comes to face piercings, tattoos, and no prior knowledge of the slang term ‘hella’ (which I think means very, but I’m not quite sure). I am not complaining, I am just recently very aware of how young I am not, which is not necessarily a bad thing, it just brings me to the comment that was made yesterday, that brought me dangerously close to throwing in the towel and purchasing several denim jumpers and orthopedic shoes.
Here is some background;
After our instructor demonstrates the proper techniques to create a new ‘look’, we are assigned a partner, and we practice on each other (in front of a very large, very well lit mirror). Yesterday during the ‘daytime look’ my partner, all of 19 or 20 commented to me, and I quote, “I am so glad we have older people in our class so I can practice on their skin. I’m sure when I start working, there will be older people, so I will [already] know how to do their makeup.” Now, I have to say that one of my most prized possessions as an older person, is my diplomacy, and my verbal ‘filtration’ system that I have acquired over the years. Although I’m not ready for jean jumpers and orthopedics (OK, if they were really cute orthopedics, maybe…), I will still chose the art of diplomacy over Justin any day. Sorry girls.
With that being said… I need to go take some Tylenol and lay down… my diplomacy is killing me!
