Average White Girl Beauty

This is my first post. Of my first blog. I have so a great many other things on my plate right now. Why do I want to execute a blog? Well, my first guideline is the fact that I’m not going to stress about doing the blog, because then it becomes a task, and projects make me procrastinate and be complicated.

So I’ll do this when I feel like it. I’ll stick to beauty as the primary topic. I love wearing makeup. I like experimenting with products and colors. I’m just an average white girl living the dream. I watch a lot of makeup tutorial videos on YouTube. Most of the girls who do these have lots of experience and practice, because they’re trained, professional cosmetologists.

I am not a professional cosmetologist. But I think I do a pretty decent job at my makeup. So I want to show you from an average white girl perspective how to do different types of eyes, lips, etc. based on what I learn from these videos. I’ll break down the wonder rhetoric. The “white girl” thing is not racist, so stop.

  1. Manage Topics
  2. On your voyage through life, try your very best to be nice to others and also to smile
  3. A Bear Called Paddington (Michael Bond)
  4. Only 1 photography per access
  5. Mild body pack
  6. They could be an omen that determines a person’s qualities or characteristics

I am an average white girl. My ancestry is mainly from Celtic origins. Thus, my skin is very fair. Actually, I have severe rosacea. It’s so bad that if I go out without makeup, people look at me like they’re thinking what occured to my face. It’s really awkward, and I hate it. 1 . 5 years. I’m inclined to try anything to obtain it better, so I’ll discuss regimens on what I’ve attempted so you need not waste money on items that don’t work.

Anyhow, to average white gal back again. So yeah, I’m a white girl. And I think I’m very average. I live a middle income, suburban, white young lady life. I go to Target. I eat baby carrots. I watch Tosh.0. I’ve two magnificent kids and a great man. I’m a stay-at-home mom.

I cook cookies. I really do laundry. I clean toilets. I vacuum a lot. I litter scoop the kitty. Out every Weekend night time I take the trash. I love to test out my hair. I am doing this because the 6th rank when Mr. Scherer, my 6th grade home room professor, challenged me to lower my head of hair that experienced growing right down to the center of my rear. He said he’d buy me a can of Coke. I used to be a little back then. Okay, therefore I was the smartest girl in my class each year. And the tallest. But from that aside, I was nothing.

Nobody knew who I was. Nobody cared who I had been. Something about this day when Mr. Scherer challenged me to cut my hair lit something within me. It was reasonable to improve myself and become who I wanted to be, not really much the person that society desired me to be. So I cut it short-term. I recall people in type looking at me, because they couldn’t believe that I needed done it. I was given by him that can of Coke. In 1984, short hair on girls was strange and different.

I began to associate myself with the complete new-wave music scene. I started using bizarre clothes (by Indiana expectations). I came to the realization, people began to note me. I started to be produced fun of. A lot. But who cares, because people knew who I was. I became something other than the tallest and smartest. I got weirder. And I liked it. I like making my own jewelry and hair accessories as well.

I like making products for my friends to wear. So you might see a few of that on as well here. Among these full days, I’ll sell my own charms on Etsy. But one thing at a right time. Which means this is my little intro for my blog. I’m technically challenged, therefore I don’t know how to make it look pretty or create my very own banner or anything like that.