Monday, September 11, 2006

Cupcake Implores You

Dear cupcakes,

If you see a tinted zit cream and think, 'my what a convienient product, this will shoot my skin full of zit poison while camoflauging the manoeuver under a subtle cosmetic!" I implore you not to make this purchase unless your natural skin tone happens to be "fake tan orange" or you are starring in an upcoming remake of Planet of the Apes. Trust me on this one.

Friday evening I got back Brooklyn and I didn't have much time to shower and change up before I had to go back to Manhattan and meet friends for drinks. First of all, this is a bad set up. If you've managed to leave Manhattan on a Friday night and make it to the sane confines of Brooklyn where all the cool kids life, it takes every fiber of your being to turn around and get back on the train. It's like in Field of Dreams when the doctor steps of the baseball diamond to save the little girl choking on a hot dog, even though he knows he can't return. So I was in a frazzled and emotionally taut state of mind when I saw the zit cream in Duane Reade that looked like it had the answer to all of my problems. I ran home and jumped in the shower being careful not to sit down because then all momentum would have truly been lost.

Stepping out freshly scrubbed and renewed I opened the little tube and with zero thought smeared it all over my "affected areas" which this week is the entire lower third of my face (what you might call my snout, Dr. Zaius). In ten seconds I was orange. Damn dirty ape orange. So instead of having a few hormone swollen red spots on my face I looked a 16-year old before Prom night who had gone a little crazy with the self-tanner. With the clock ticking and my will buckling, there was only one thing to do: powder, powder, powder and pray that I wouldn't like like a drag queen in the low lighting.

Remember, "one size fits most" might work for baseball caps, but probably not for anything that's suposed to match your skin tone. Learn from my mistakes.

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