I never should have bought that magnifying lighted mirror.
See, in my bathroom I’ve got a fluorescent light above the medicine cabinet, which composes all of the lighting for my shoebox of a bathroom. It’s worked just fine for me for the past two and a half years for applying makeup and checking to make sure my makeup’s still there. But over the summer, I visited my cousin, and she had this magnifying lighted mirror that was just awesome for finding rogue hairs and making sure that the color wasn’t too dark.
I wanted one.
At Bed, Bath & Beyond, they were $60. I cannot justify spending $60 on a freakin’ mirror, so I opted for the $10 lighted travel mirror. It works all right, though I don’t use the light anymore. I just prop the mirror in my bathroom window to get the natural sunlight. But it means I can only see one eye at a time.
Tonight I headed out to Tuesday Morning with the goal of getting a new apron (which I totally forgot about, as they close at 7pm. SEVEN! Who closes on a Friday at 7??), and when I came across a tall, lighted, magnifying mirror for just $20, I had to snap it up. And what did I do as soon as I got home? I plugged it in and scrutinized my face.
I thought my makeup looked smooth and even, and covered my blemishes. Apparently not! Under the lighted magnifying mirror, my face is so uneven. Pores abound, pimples rise up angry and red — and hair! Damn my Eastern European origins. No wonder I need to pluck my eyebrows almost every single morning. Yeesh.
Women should not look at their faces under the unforgiving light of a magnifying mirror, not if they want to keep their sanity.
Tonight opens the 2010 Winter Olympics, which you should know, unless you live under a rock. I love me some Olympics. Every two years I am glued to the tv for two weeks, avidly watching anything and everything that NBC sees fit to broadcast. I so miss watching it on CBC, one of the Canadian networks. I was able to receive CBC when we lived in Washington, which is how I got to see all of the curling championships for the first time in my life. And since Canadians are so wonderful and friendly and courteous, we were able to see ALL of the competitions, not just the ones in which the US medaled, unlike on NBC.
Before the opening ceremonies, NBC did this gorgeous documentary on our great neighbor to the north. The scenery was stunning, the animals amazing, the people so gracious. (It doesn’t hurt that I’m watching it on a 55″ HD tv.) It was pointed out that Canada has given the US so much, and cited several categories. And all of a sudden, Peter Jennings’s photo was flashed up on the screen, as a Canadian son who’d come to America to do broadcasting.
For those of who you haven’t been reading me all that long, I adored Peter Jennings. Growing up in my house, there wasn’t much I was allowed to watch, other than ABC Nightly News with Peter Jennings — required viewing for the whole family when I was a kid. As a result, I have a better grasp of news events from the 1980s and 90s than most people my age. It meant, though, that Peter Jennings’s voice formed the soundtrack of my childhood. When he passed away so young from lung cancer, I cried. I admit it. It was like the passing of my childhood.
When that photo of that wonderful broadcaster was shown up on the screen, I teared up. I was amazed at how much it affected me; I was nearly crying.
And you know, as if that weren’t enough, I learned something new tonight. September 11th was a terrible day for me. Of course it was a terrible day for our entire nation, for all of the free world, really, but more so because my father works in the Pentagon. The nose of that plane? Stopped right at my dad’s office windows. Amazingly enough, he wasn’t at work that day, and no one in his office was lost due to the new blastproof windows. That doesn’t mean we didn’t lose anyone. My dad’s friend from Nebraska, former Navy himself, was there for a job interview — and never came home again.
Eight-plus years later, it still bothers me. I can’t watch it on the tv, so when Kurt finds a documentary he wants to watch, I decamp to the bedroom and my reading nook. Tonight during the run-up to the Olympics, NBC mentioned how Canada opened its arms when America shut down its airspace on that terrible day, accepting flights that had been diverted away from the States. It showed stranded travelers stressed out and panicking about how to get home again — but the Canadians took care of them. You saw people lined up at tables being fed cafeteria-style. Why did I never hear about this before?? What a kind and gracious people these folks to the North are.
As much as I love being an American, it almost makes me want to move to Canada. Besides, I need to try me some poutine! And learn how to curl. And say “zed” instead of “zee.” Ooo I can do this!