Domestic abuse purple

I was about to crawl into bed when I heard a soft knock at my door. I assumed that it was The Roadtrip Queen because I had been listening to Peaches' new tracks (Hit it Hard and Downtown - my two new official summer jams btw) on repeat for the better part of the night, and she has to work tomorrow.

It was actually The Christitute "Are you sleeping?" she asked innocently

"Uh, no" I quickly replied as I did a quick scan of the doorknob to make sure it was locked

"Can I come in?" she replied in turn

"Uh, yeah. Give me a minute. I have to put on pants" I responded. "I'm putting on pants as we speak" I reassured her

"Ok, well you're going to think this is a little stupid" she countered from the other side of the door

"What?"

"Ok, well which colour of blush looks better?" She asked, in all seriousness, as I unlocked and opened the door for her

(stifling laughter) "Uh, step into the light" "The one on the right cheek"

She looked in the mirror, and when she finally clued in as to which cheek was, in fact, the right one, she cursed a bit under her breath "Argh! That's my old one. It's more plummy don't you think?"

"Yeah, they're both nice - but, if you're going for the 'domestic abuse purple' look the right one is more plummy, the left one is peachy"

"Argh! I asked the girl at M.A.C. for plum, and this is peach!" There was a definite undertone of indignation, so much so that she may not be able to get to sleep she's so riled up

(interior monologue - a prime example of first-world problems)

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In other news, I will embark on my three-day debaucherous Calgary Stampede extravaganza in a mere 12 hours, so updates may be few, and will definitely be sporadic at best.

So enjoy the weekend, because I sure as hell will, yee-haw!

P.S. TC you need to remind me to call my Mom and wish her a happy birthday before I get ridiculously drunk, as hilarious as that would be.