I look in the mirror on my return home. There are the perfect eyes and lips I painted a few hours before. I'm definitely getting the hang of this makeup business. Pencil eyeliner, four shades of shadow expertly blended, brows trimmed, plucked, combed and secured in the right shape with some pump-type hairspray that I've transferred to an empty clear mascara bottle. The gel that came in it was useless, so I took it apart and washed it out. My lashes are bold and beautiful. The latest two-part mascara I've tried looks to be a big winner. They'll probably discontinue it next month. Always seems to happen to me -- find a product I really like, and they change it or stop making it altogether.

The lips today are the long-lasting type, consisting of a paint-on liquid and a clear shine coating like a super-luxurious Chapstik. ® When you're doing the painting, you get to decide where the lines are. My mouth looks entirely different, now that I know how much and where to cheat. It looks way more feminine than I would have imagined was even possible, given what I'm starting with.

Foundation, a little concealer, some loose powder, and blush... I've FINALLY figured out where to put the blush.

Yes, it's a somewhat feminine appearance. And now... Now, I have to take it all off. Destroy my little work of art so I can go to bed. As I squirt some baby oil onto a cotton ball, and sadly rub it over my eyelids, I think...

Let's do this again tomorrow!