Taking pretty out of petty.

Somewhere in an alternate universe, there lies a medicine cabinet with the contents of my health and beauty products. I like to think it's somewhere on the left side of no-longer-deemed planet, Pluto, but I'm probably wrong. Whoever found the lovely items inside has probably either adorned their girlfriend or wife by now, with the perfect smelling of now-discontinued Ralph Lauren Style or maybe out there nekking in the woods with my Ralph Lauren Romance eau de toilette.

I am beyond bummed.

Maybe this is what it feels like to be an Indian with no warpaint.

There must be 20 different eyeshadows in there (M-A-C!) to suit my every feeling-blue, feeling-green, feeling-purple eclectic mix. 15 different eyeliners beyond the primary colors, some with glitter, and mostly with glee. Paint pots, blush, wands of mascara, tweezers and eyelash curlers, those that you guys refer to as "torture tools." Lipsticks, lipgloss, lipliners - all gone. And now, they're either on a decorated poodle somewhere or some 2 year old must be having fun painting their baby brother in different colors as a peacock.

My dreams of retrieval has been blown to smithereens.

On the second shelf lies my medications that my family allergist has recommended. All arrays of Claritin, Allegra, Nasonex, Zyrtec and Decadron. I surely hope that whoever found it has at least black marketed it to some person who happens to be allergic to all things environmental: dust, dander, mold, mildew, ragweed, hayfever, pollen, trees, flowers, bees, etc. And maybe subscribes to some homeopathic magazine which would explain the natural sleeping potencies that I've required in the last year or so to combat the monster hiding under my bed (said monster usually transforms into some sort of a bogey-wolf man who wants to blow my house down).

Below that would be the apothecary bottles containing lavender, eucalyptus and rosemary oils, and several shapes, sizes, brands and makes of cosmetic brushes - all from unsuspecting animal hair, and yes, including the racoon, too. And with all that gel, mousse, lush whip, wax and hair pomade missing, my wavy hair will be all over the place in this dry, fall weather (AKA: frizz).

One can only conclude from reading this post that the writer (me) must be ugly and stinky now, with a sneezy, runny nose and an incessant cough with itchy, watery eyes - and of course, all under unruly locks.

Oh, well. A natural woman I will have to be.

*photo taken when such items in the medicine cabinet were employed.