I was kind of bummed that there was not a makeup lady to assist me at my taping.
As someone who's not worn makeup – well, except for the spray tan my wife made me get before our wedding, it was always something that I found interesting.
Would I be even more dashing with foundation? Would my eyebrows “pop”? Can they draw a beauty mark on my cheek? And what about rouge? Is it true that only whores wear that?
I'll probably never know, as I don't have any additional media performances booked. Apparently the Letterman producers haven't filmed a “Stupid Pet Tricks” segment since 1989 and are not interested in seeing my dog crawl wholly into my mouth and go to sleep. Oh well.
They did give me however, this blotter paper thing that instantly takes away the oil from your face. It was sort of cool.
Since I figured the best way to prepare was to think about makeup the whole time, I didn't do one ounce of thought about what I was going to say.
Normally when this happens, I jump all over the place, and it's a real mess. I need to prepare for even talking to dentist.
Remember to ask about his father's death a few months ago. Say that you're so sorry. Also, make sure you ask about his kids, and his wife. And how much he's boating this summer.
I don't do well just “reacting.” Today, my boss wanted to change something about the way I interview people. He caught me off guard. I got super pissy and started yelling, totally out of control. He finally said, “You're such a drama queen. Relax.”
And then I thought about it, and he was right about what needed to be changed, and also about me being a drama queen.
So, even though I was terrified to watch my segment because I assumed I would look all fat and gross and come off like a buffoon, I was actually pleased with the results.
The bottom line was that I just relaxed and told my story from a genuine place. I'm glad I did it.
And lastly, what's up with the bus smelling like farts? It does!