Eight-dollar blush

When did it become OK for drug stores to charge eight dollars for blush? I don’t mean to sound like gramma here, but c’mon. It’s blush. BLUSH. It’s pink powder. I currently use pink eyeshadow as blush. It came as part of a four-pack and cost five bucks.

I have a theory. I think they’re raising their prices because it’s winter and they know what I look like without makeup right now. Let me tell you something: it ain’t pretty. You can see the veins under my skin like the Model of the Human Body we had in science class. Very vampirish, but unfortunately I seem to have misplaced my maxi-single of “Bela Lugosi’s Dead.”

It’s a serious emergency, and here’s how I know. In the past few days, not one — not two! — but three separate people have asked me if I’m feeling all right. When I act puzzled and confirm that I am, they all say the same thing, “Oh, it’s just that you’re so pale.”

I am pale. It’s all true what you’ve heard. I am a genuine certified honky and it’s the dead of winter in New England. I think even eight-dollar blush might not be enough to make me look bursting with good health.

Maybe I’ll just start wearing a lot of black and pretend it’s a look.

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