Cosmetic frivolity + life lesson. With fake lashes. Wink wink bat bat.

So what I learned through the makeup process was something I've learned about myself in every other piece of my life. It is this: almost everything with me is a process of elimination.

I don't necessarily know what I want until I find it. Which means you necessarily try a lot of what you don't want.

Remember my gazillion dates? No, no, no, maybe, but no, and more no. And then, hello Nick! And at that point, knew exactly what I wanted.

So this was how I plowed through my dating career. And much of my work career. I have had more boyfriends than jobs, but my resume is not a short one.

It's not the easiest way to go through life. Nor the most expedient. If it's your MO, I imagine you will agree.

So back to the business at hand.

I got a recommendation on a makeup artist from a friend who worked in the makeup business for years. About a month ago I did a trial run.

The end result was that I really liked her, but I hated the makeup.

This woman was so pretty, and her makeup was impeccable. The whole time she was putting my makeup on, I was sitting there thinking, "She's just so beautiful!"

I wanted to ask her how it feels to be that beautiful. But what a weird question to ask.

At the recommendation of my friend, I'd pulled pictures out of a bunch of magazines with the general look(s) I thought I liked.

When she was done, I looked in the mirror, and was kind of confused. It just didn't really look like me. My maid of honor was over, and she felt the same.

The makeup artist said to sit with it, to think about it, and think about what I liked, didn't, etc.

So she left, and we analyzed what was wrong, what wasn't sitting well with us. And came to the conclusion that I looked kind of like I'd been snatched out of a European village at a young age, sold into prostitution, been hard-used, escaped, and started my life over. And was now trying to look younger and fresher through makeup.

I say this not to be mean or denigrate her makeup skills. As I said, her look was perfect.

It was just a look that really, really didn't work for me. And taught me the power of makeup. My face looked more round than it actually is. My eyes, which point, looked round. And I looked like I had a whole lot more wrinkles than I do.

Although I am loathe to put this up, here's proof I'm not exaggerating. Don't you agree?

I didn't say any of this to her. But I also didn't want to risk hating the apparent shape of my face on my wedding day. And so I said was that in looking at our budget again, we had decided to forgo paying for makeup application.

Which was my precise intention. It freaked me out to lose control over how my face looks.

A week later, my mom and I went to the mall. We were walking past the Lancome counter, when an attractive woman with really cool glasses asked if she could help us. She had a visiting makeup artist that day.

And I sat down, and she did my makeup, and I just felt pretty. And sparkly. And not at all like I was recovering from a kidnapped life of use.

To make things even more fun, while she was doing Betty's makeup, we talked about the wedding. She asked if I was going to wear false eyelashes. And then said if I walked over to MAC and bought some, she'd put them on for me.

Which she did. And I kind of loved it. This photo I put up above shows the lashes best, I think.

I wanted to take her home with me and ask her to make me look like that every single day. But instead, I asked her if she's free the 27th.

I am waiting for confirmation, and if she can't do it, I'd already decided to do my own. I do love those fake eyelashes, though.