Like sands through an hour glass.
I told my mom that finding out what I got on my Ethics/Legal Issues in Journalism test was my one reason for living.
This worried her, because you can never live down pretending to try to kill yourself in your teens. (So don't do it unless it's going to work. My household is still a dearth of functional knives, and my parents have a knee jerk reaction every time I make a melodramatic remark, no matter how flippant.)
But when she mentioned it, I did bring up that Clinique is discontinuing Long and Pretty Lashes, my favorite mascara. My eyelashes are Short and Ugly, a constant contributor to my uncertainty about my looks.
While other girls concern themselves with holding up their boobs in strapless dresses for special occasions, I agonize over whether or not I should wear fake lashes.
Aside from the fact it's everyone's tendency to want what they don't have (my brother's lashes? Long and Pretty.), I've always believed eyelashes to be the ultimate sign of femininity. This is a concept instilled in early childhood, when the genders of cartoon characters are distinguished with the use of colors, bows, dresses, and eyelashes.
I don't wear dresses, and so without Long and Pretty lashes I don't know how people are going to tell that I'm a girl.
But I will soldier through, because I want to know what I got on that test. After that it will be touch and go.