(no subject)
Why Do They Slouch Forward Like That?
I waited with baited breath by the window all day for the brown truck bringing my 86 dollars worth of minerals and backstage makeup. Hours stretched by, ten to be exact. Every rumble of the COTA and muffler-less cars caused my heart to jump and my neck to snap backward painfully to see if the brown truck had appeared on the road behind my futon. Scared of missing the knock, I refused to leave my futon for anything. I didn't shower, I cut the bathroom time by hiding the magazines in the other room so I wouldn't dawdle over the articles. I did, however, run back and forth from my computer to quickly check the tracking on my package. All day it said "In Transit. On Time and Will Be Delivered on 3/6/08" That's it. From 11am to 630pm I waited and feared the worst. There could be an accident. My precious Sephora goods could be mangled underneath a tire of a truck. A hijacker could have ran off with it. Maybe they put Idaho instead of Ohio. The anxiety of ordering offline caused wrinkles beyond my years.
Finally, I heard a rumbling and when my neck snapped, my unmade-up eyes spotted the huge brown van, hazard lights blinking. I was so excited when I saw the brown shorts walking up the sidewalk, I ran outside in boxers and a dirty shirt, ashes and fruit snack remnants lingering, skipping barefoot and ready to sign for it. The guy , who apparently did not share my excitement, thrust the box forward and walked off. No friendly greeting, no goodbye. I didn't even get to sign anything and spell out my last name. I glowered a little as he walked away for his selfish attempt at creating an anti-climatic moment. His attempt was useless though. Bare Minerals Foundation was mine. Dior Black Out mascara was mine. The free samples were mine. Clutching my package I ran in, danced and tore it open.
I've just unstuck myself from the mirror. My eyelashes nearly touch my eyebrows in a vampy 60's mod way. My skin looks like a movie stars and my hair is slick and mod. Now I just have to wait on my slow poke of a boyfriend to come get me and, for his own sake, I hope he comments on how pretty I look.
I waited with baited breath by the window all day for the brown truck bringing my 86 dollars worth of minerals and backstage makeup. Hours stretched by, ten to be exact. Every rumble of the COTA and muffler-less cars caused my heart to jump and my neck to snap backward painfully to see if the brown truck had appeared on the road behind my futon. Scared of missing the knock, I refused to leave my futon for anything. I didn't shower, I cut the bathroom time by hiding the magazines in the other room so I wouldn't dawdle over the articles. I did, however, run back and forth from my computer to quickly check the tracking on my package. All day it said "In Transit. On Time and Will Be Delivered on 3/6/08" That's it. From 11am to 630pm I waited and feared the worst. There could be an accident. My precious Sephora goods could be mangled underneath a tire of a truck. A hijacker could have ran off with it. Maybe they put Idaho instead of Ohio. The anxiety of ordering offline caused wrinkles beyond my years.
Finally, I heard a rumbling and when my neck snapped, my unmade-up eyes spotted the huge brown van, hazard lights blinking. I was so excited when I saw the brown shorts walking up the sidewalk, I ran outside in boxers and a dirty shirt, ashes and fruit snack remnants lingering, skipping barefoot and ready to sign for it. The guy , who apparently did not share my excitement, thrust the box forward and walked off. No friendly greeting, no goodbye. I didn't even get to sign anything and spell out my last name. I glowered a little as he walked away for his selfish attempt at creating an anti-climatic moment. His attempt was useless though. Bare Minerals Foundation was mine. Dior Black Out mascara was mine. The free samples were mine. Clutching my package I ran in, danced and tore it open.
I've just unstuck myself from the mirror. My eyelashes nearly touch my eyebrows in a vampy 60's mod way. My skin looks like a movie stars and my hair is slick and mod. Now I just have to wait on my slow poke of a boyfriend to come get me and, for his own sake, I hope he comments on how pretty I look.