to celebrate national novel writing month (or the unfortunately nicknamed "NaNoWriMo") this year i will spare myself the white-hair-inducing effects of writing 50,000 words in the month of November by writing a story a day.

these stories will be of any length and veer into any territory i wish. the idea is for me to write one a day for every day of november. these will be first drafts with minimal editing.

if you are into any of it. please comment below! perhaps you can help me figure out if there's ANYthing in these stories worth adapting or polishing into something awesome.

story 14. makeup face (by jenny yang. saturday, november 16, 2013)

i’m having a really hard time staying on this chick’s face. it is hella greasy.

so this lady jenny bought me from sephora and that cvs in manhattan beach by the pier. it’s a weird mix up here. i don’t think she has used makeup like me before.  it’s like the first time she has mixed us all up: concealer, foundation, bronzer, highlighter, blush

didn’t know we could talk huh?

well, once we get mixed together, we unite in a single voice.

that’s me. i’m your makeup, face.

i talk. we talk. ALL THE TIME. you just don’t hear us!  why don’t you hear us?

like we were totally talking when michael jackson was faking his skin problem.  homie used so much of us he had his own special line of products made by chanel.

well, this lady jenny has us together on her face now.  from what i gathered of her text messages we are going to the red carpet of this show called kollaboration (with a k. i know.)

“hello?  who’s there?”

oh shit.

“i can hear you. who is it?”

that’s impossible.

“who is this? where are you?”

no way!

“yes. ella? is this a trick?”

who’s ella? oh. my. god. you can hear us.

uh oh. she’s scared. where are you going? we’re right here! on your face!

“what?! what’s on my face!?”

she looks at her hands, walks back to the bathroom mirror and looks at her face. she’s in a panic.

“of course i’m in a panic! i hear voices in my head! where are you coming from?”

we are your makeup!

“why are you narrating what i’m doing?! oh my god i’m going crazy.”

listen to us.  we are just your makeup.

“my makeup? this is insane! what are you talking about?”

she rifles through her makeup bag, our countries of origin.

“who are you describing me to?”

well we are telling a short story to an imaginary world of internet users who may want to know about what it’s like to be makeup on a woman’s face.  we don’t know if anyone will care about our account of our life with you but it doesn’t hurt to share. we’re just sharing here,

“okay. i am officially going crazy. i need to wash my face.”

no!  then we are gone! we will never exist like this again! remember, you are going to be on the red carpet and photos will be taken of you! what will you do without proper contouring?!

“i can’t deal with your voice.”

she proceeds to scrub her face with that god-awful proactiv solution. it feels like gravel on our bodies. it burns.

nooo! oh you’ll be back. they always come back. auuughhh…

“die, makeup face. die. looking like a damn girl is not worth this”

the end.