Makeover from Hell...

This past Thursday was what one would call "A bad day."  Pretty much everything that could go wrong, did in fact go wrong.  I'll spare you all the really boring details, but here are the highlights:

• Not one but two different people at work told me that I might be seen as a villain because "I come in with my fancy degree and tell people that what they've done is wrong."  A) I do not have a fancy degree.  B) I don't tell people what they've done is wrong...I just tell them a better way.  C) Just because someone comes up with an idea, doesn't mean that it's the best way to do it.  I'm not trying to tell anyone their baby is ugly.  It's not my fault that some  people have unreasonable attachments to crappy software.  Please see previous posts about the socially inept developers I have to work with.
• My hands feel like twisted, dead objects due to the number of screens I've been mocking up at work lately.  I went to a meeting in which people asked me to redo something I'd already redone about 1.2 million times. 
• I got a MacBook Pro at work, which would be awesome under normal circumstances, but our company doesn't "support" Macs.  This essentially means that I'm stuck trying to figure out how to get around our convoluted technical infrastructure in order to get connected to the network and do any work.  This would all be fine and dandy if I had even an ounce of network, technical savvy.  I do not.  Basically, the tech guy hung up on me. I have a lot of work to do...therefore a computer is kind of an asset.  This sent me over the edge and tears started welling up in my eyes.
• The guy who sits across from me felt sorry for me and offered to buy me lunch.  I asked for the Red Dragon Chicken.  Instead when it came, I got the Seafood delight.  I hate seafood.  My lunch had tentacles and various other disgusting looking sea creatures.  

Things weren't going great, as you can see.  The only thing on Thursday that I was looking forward to was a complimentary makeover and some drinks at a rooftop bar with my homegirl, KT.  I got the afore mentioned complimentary makeover because my awesome bro and sister in law gave me a 200 dollar gift card for spa-finder.  Anyway, I was very much looking forward to some pampering, and I love me some makeup, so I figured I'd probably score some awesome fancy mineral makeup.

I'm going to call this "The Before Picture"

Before we get into the gory details of what happened to me,  (I say happened to me because afterwords I felt dirty and assaulted) I feel that it's necessary to describe to you the woman who was administering said "makeover".  She's in her late 40's, is wearing copious amounts of sparkly green eyeshadow, an unnatural shade of bright red/pink lipstick on her collagen filled lips, and lastly, is unable to show any sort of emotion due to unreasonable amounts of juvederm/botox. While I was slightly alarmed at this lady's idea of what good makeup means, I figured I couldn't begrudge her personal sense of what looks good on her. 

She started by asking me how I usually do my makeup.  I proceed to tell her that most people don't even know that I wear a ton of makeup and that most of it that I put on is just to even out my skin because I have a lot of scarring.  She really had me going when she did that whole "Active Listening" thing and said back to me "Oh, so you go for more of the natural look.  Okay, we'll do that then."  Try to remember that she said the previous sentence whilst you read the rest of this blog post.

So the very first thing she does is pull out some concealers, foundations, and powders.  They range from a Nicole Kidman fair to the darkest shade you can think of.  She immediately picks out the second to darkest hue and says "I think this will be perfect for you!"  Mind you, I've been eying a shade about 7 lighter than this and thinking that's my shade.  I'm thinking if she uses the shade she wants to, I'm gonna look like that offensive episode of "All in the Family" where Archie Bunker goes black face.  Eeek.  I talked her out of that luckily.

Then, she starts coating my face with a very weird shade of pink something or another and says it's to absorb the oil.  Then she paints on concealer, tops it with foundation, and then puts on some powder.  I have yet to look at myself in a mirror because the room we're in doesn't have one.  She starts applying eye makeup (which I very rarely wear.) First she uses a sparkly pink all the way up to my eyebrow, then a gold sparkly color over that, and then she tops it all off with a very thick coat of purple eyeliner which she puts on the top and the bottom.  The tail end that she added at the corners would have put Taylor Swift to shame. I mean, they went all the way up to my hairline.  She puts on a coat of white mascara, followed by a coat of black sparkly mascara.  Then she goes in with a silvery black powder and "fills in" my eyebrows because they're "sparse".  The cherry on top was a dark pink lip liner filled in with sparkly light pink lip gloss (because when you do dramatic eyes, the lips should blend in.)  When all is said and done, I felt like I had about 25 pounds of makeup on my face.  I was absolutely horrified to see what this woman had done to me.  When I walked out of the room and looked in the mirror, I was at a complete loss for words.  I looked like a mix between Carmen Electra and Groucho Marks. 

There was a guy fixing the toilet and when he walked out and started to walk towards me and looked up, I actually saw and heard an audible gasp.  This is not my imagination.  I was supposed to be responsible for picking up dinner at Chipotle so I had to go out in PUBLIC like this.  I got to the car (where it was still perfectly sunny outside) and looked at the mirror in the car.  It was unlike anything I had ever seen.  In what universe was what this lady did to me considered "The natural look??"  The Sunset Strip?  The Bunny Ranch?  I'm not really sure...

I spent a solid 20 minutes in the car trying to wipe off all the crap around my eyes.  So much so, that my hands were covered in gold, pink and purple sparkles.  When I touched the navigation system in the car, it looked the a crime scene in which a fairy was murdered and bled sparkles all over the car.  I thought I did a decent job getting it all off.

I decided not to wash it off and start over when I got home because I knew it would be dark by the time we went out of drinks.  Even so, I warned KT..."Please don't judge me because I look like a prostitute.  I swear I didn't do it to myself..."  Then as we walked out of the building, she turns to Sudhir and whispers "Who did that to her??" 

Nuff said.

Unfortunately, I didn't take any photographic evidence of the horrors that I faced that day.  Instead, this is what we'll call an artistic recreation of what I imagine I looked like to the outside world.  Enjoy.

The After Shot