Wait, WHO do I look like?!

You can find anything on the internet. For instance, have you ever wondered what celebrity you most resemble? There’s a website for that, probably a few. Warning: the results could be startling.

A little while ago, when I was younger—fewer wrinkles, less affected by gravity, as yet oblivious to the shock of finding a gray hair, so, you know, probably like a year or so ago (how dramatic is the change from 29 to 30 and then to 31?!?! SHEESH!)—I put my picture into one of those websites. Now, of course I had some expectations for what I’d get back. Obviously, I look a lot like Eva Longoria.

When one embarks on such an endeavor as associating her appearance with a celebrity, one aims high. I was hoping for, perhaps, a Kate Beckinsdale, Demi Moore post-surgery, maybe Megan Fox. No? You don’t think I could look like Megan Fox?

People have told me before that I looked like Mini Driver. That seems like a compliment when you picture her in some of her more recent stuff or during her Will & Grace period, even in Good Will Hunting. I’m pretty sure, though, that they were referring to her slightly-less-svelte, Circle of Friends days. I know. I have dark hair, freckles and chipmunk cheeks, but that just seems less than flattering!

This website I’ve purposely blocked from any ability to remember did not pick any of those lovely ladies as my luminary counterpart. Not even Mini Driver at any point in her history. Apparently, I look like none other than Hilary Clinton.

Hilary Clinton! Hilary! Clinton!! Regardless of your political feelings about her, there are several qualities a young woman can admire in Hilary Clinton: her strength, her power, her political acumen, her success… Her looks, and the only relevant characteristic here, are not among her attributes I aspire to! Who sits around and says, “Mmm… That Hilary Clinton is HOT,” or “Hilary is my beauty icon!”

So, naturally, I went out, bought a TON of make-up and other beauty products, amped up my beauty routine and got to work transforming myself. I’m pretty sure I’m almost there. Kate Beckinsdale, here I come!

Insane in the name of “naturally” gorgeous

We do a lot of really crazy things in the name of beauty. I mean, if you really think about it, just bikini waxes and Spanx alone might seem truly bizarre to another culture or, say, men. But, this week, I topped the charts of beauty craziness.

I had an event this weekend for which I wanted to look super hot. Maybe less than coincidently, I had also just finished reading (and extensively indexing with those little post-it tab things) the Black Book of Hollywood Beauty Secrets. It’s an incredible book, my new bible and the inspiration for a week-long, pre-event beauty regimen.

At the beginning of the week, that just meant things like manicure, pedicure, wax… As the week progressed, it got a little more involved (and really awesome for my skin!). Olive oil facial steams, maple syrup hair treatments, baking soda exfoliation, potato and chamomile tea eye treatments and the really foul-smelling but miraculously nourishing green tea, sour cream, olive oil, honey and egg yolk facial mask. All in all, a whole lot of things you close your blinds and lock your door before actually doing.

Day of the event was a WHOLE other level of insanity that not even I had ever previously reached in all my years of striving for the just-out-of-reach, red-carpet-worthy level of gorgeous. The day started with the same crazy facial masks, etc. and a few doses of diuretics. You know, to get rid of any extra water that wasn’t absolutely vital for survival. Hey! If it’s good enough for pageant queens, it’s good enough for my slinky, black dress, right?

As I’m coating both my legs in the strongest ground coffee I could find at the grocery store, mixed with just a touch of water, and then wrapping them in plastic wrap to sit for fifteen minutes, I can’t help but laugh and admit that yes, I have just crossed several lines in the name of cellulite invisibility.



It was only as I lay shaking on the couch unable to stand for fear of accessorizing my hot dress with a huge black-and-blue mark from passing out and smashing my head that I realized mixing the highly caffeinated water pills with the infusion straight into my system (via my legs, naturally) of really dark coffee spelled disaster. Combined with an empty stomach and going cold turkey on caffeine all week, plus the dehydration from the pills, and I was facing a major caffeine overdose.

My crisis in the name of beauty, in stages:

Stage One:
“Tonight is going to be awesome! I suddenly feel so energized! I’m sure it’s just excitement. Can’t wait for the party!!”

Stage Two:
“Whoa. I feel a little like it’s Sunday morning, and I spent all last night drinking Red Bull Vodkas.”

Stage Three:
“Huh. My hand’s kind of tingling. Weird.”

Stage Four:
“MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM!! I think I may need to go to the hospital. Do you think I need to go to the hospital? Do you think my kidneys might fail? I think I’m going to throw up. Wait? Chugging a gallon of water was a bad idea? Oh, sip it! Wait, so hospital… Or no hospital… Hospital? No?”

(The hospital/no hospital conversation is one I often have with my mother, so it is not ever really an actual indication of level of imminent danger. It’s only when I call our friend at work in the ER that one should really worry. Wait for it…)

Stage Five:
“Falon, are you at work? Feel free to track down a doctor. I think I may be dying!”

Don’t worry! I made it to my event and looked gorgeous, if I do say so myself, but six other people (strangers even!) also volunteered similar reviews! So, I’m not saying the fear of death was worth it, but…

Now, I’m definitely not recommending it, but if you ever find yourself hit by a beauty-induced tidal wave of over-caffeination and mild dehydration, know that the only remedy is LOTS of water (sipped!), Gatorade, a balanced meal (which, considering what I had in my house, constituted of two bananas and a handful of almonds. Hey, it’s even amazing I had that!) and just waiting it out.

So, the lesson learned: That coke habit I had once imagined adopting as a diet plan? Not really looking like a viable option anymore.