My kitchen has a bar. People arrive and sit around it – close to the finger food, close to the wine and close to the cook (a.k.a. myself). And the living room, all dressed up in flowers and candles, is left alone, remembering the time when visitors were more worried about behaving properly and less worried about having fun. Last evening was a girls only. Nine women.
- I’ve always wanted to paint a fake mark on my face, like Cindy Crawford.
- I’ve done it once! Got an eyeliner and painted it right here.
- Why? Where did you go with it?
- I was still with my ex boyfriend. We had to go to a boring party and I decided to have my own fun. But I had to go to the restroom a hundred times, to repaint it.
- And what did your ex think about the mark?
- He hated it. He got so angry about it… and as he got angrier, I repainted it more and more. I had so much fun on that day
No comments:
Post a Comment