Are cosmetics the secret to happiness?

I started this blog as a disgusted reaction to Sarah Palin’s nomination for the Republican vice-presidential candidate in the year... god knows... 20 and a million years ago.  Hard to believe that politics could devolve further from that low point; but it has, it has.  So much so, that I can no longer even “get it up for it” in order to enjoy writing long masturbatory diatribes about current events under the illusion that caring deeply matters some.  I don’t know if the current state of things no longer makes me angry, or if I now just suppress my futile anger into an all-pervasive blues.

Feeling blue this morning, I went for a swim.  Our local pool has a weekly rhythm all its own, depending on who shows up on what day for what different water aerobics class around which I try to time my arrivals for lap swimming.  The whole tenor of the place changes with its shifting populations.  Tuesday mornings are low key affairs with only a small contingent of aerobics mavens. 

This morning, I entered the dressing room as two women I recognized from my Tuesday forays to the pool were, unusual for them, silent in their last preparatory stages for rejoining the non-aquatic world outside.  They never greet me when I come in, and I don’t bother them; but in a dark and nasty mood, I made a bet with myself that if the women were to start talking, their conversation would be about cosmetics.  As soon as I made my silent bet, one side or the other of me won it, for not so lo and not so beholden, they started what sounded like an intense conversation about, well, cosmetics. To be fair, it was not a high stakes bet; I have heard these women wax poetic about cosmetics every single time I've walked into that place while they get ready to leave. If I had not been in such a bad mood, I would have smiled.   

The two of them seem happy enough.  Maybe I should take up cosmetics as a subject of intense scrutiny. Could it be that face paste is the secret to happiness?  When I do think about the industry, it’s always along the lines of animal testing and exfoliating beads clogging up the oceans.  Alas, I must be doing something wrong.