Gold Medal Glamour

On Friday I will attempt a great feat.

If there were Girly Olympics, this would be the biathalon (which is totally the awesomest sport. In fact, more awesome than Britney and K-Fed's marriage).

Drum roll please.

Yes, I will go from work to a black tie (optional) affair with only about an hour to get ready.

Now, many of you may be more skilled at this, but I have little experience with formal events like this. My high school was a little "different" and had one organized event which was the senior prom. So when I had my hair done for it, I looked at it, all crusty with hair spray and curled, I burst into tears. I promptly went home, took out the three thousand bobby pins and washed my hair. It ended up looking fabulous.

I also spent exactly two hours in my dress, after which we all changed into jeans and t-shirts for the after-party

Now that I am older, and still break out in hives from the smell of Aqua Net, I am better at preparing for these things (I think). And while I always imagine that my day before and event like this can be like stars getting ready for the Oscars, where I subsist solely on sugar-free Iced Blendeds and have people wave crystals at my face to ward off blemishes.

It's never like that.

Here's the schedule:

6:10 - Alarm goes off. Hit snooze.

6:30-7:30 - Shower, try to shave around 1 trillion mosquito bites obtained at chic Georgetown party last week, eat breakfast, try to blow dry hair in a way that will stay pretty though till evening. Fail miserably.

8:30-12:30 - Work. Try not to chip nails while checking email, answering phone and talking to various Hill staffers (hey, sometimes you really want to gouge their eyes out! But that would ruin my nails. FYI, I'm planning on OPI Pinking of You).

12:30-1:30 - Eat the healthy-low-carb-low-salt-salad-lunch that I brought to work to ward off bloating.

1:45 - stare longingly at the Cosi sandwich that co-worker is currently snarfing.

2:00 - drink 16 glasses of water to try to stave off hunger.

2:10 - trip to cafeteria yields nothing healthy. try drinking a cup of coffee (it's a diuretic!)

2:55 - get peanut M+Ms from the vending machine.

3:00-4:30 - run back and forth to bathroom peeing from all the coffee and water. Chip nails on crappy government contractor provided toilet-paper dispenser. Curse life.

4:30-5:30 - Metro home and think of red carpet glam hair and makeup I plan to wear.

5:30 - Get home and realize that my hair is puffy, I'm broken out, and my mascara is running.

6:30-7 - Run Sumo Wax through hair and heat flattening iron, reapply foundation lightly, add concealer to red spots around nose and under eyes, sweep on Nars Sin blush, curl lashes, line with Bobbi Brown gel eyeliner in Granite Ink, layer on Vincent Longo eyeshadows in Sweet Dream and Baby Love, try not to poke my eye out with the mascara wand.

Try to flatten hair. Fail miserably.

Scream at boyfriend to PLEASE GET DRESSED ALREADY. He looks at me skeptically as I run around in my underwear with a hot iron in my hand.

Wiggle into dress and curse M+Ms.

Brush Cle de Peau Luminizing Power over cheekbones, clavicles and shoulders.

Spend ten minutes choosing between two shoes that look identical while interrupting NBA Finals game to quiz boyfriend (who is now totally ready to go) on which looks better.

Decide on less expensive shoes in case people get rowdy and spill drinks on me.

Put hair into ponytail.

Decide on lip gloss. Who am I kidding? I take all four candidates in tiny purse.

Tap foot impatiently at boyfriend and hurry out to car.

Remember about a thousand things I should have done.

7:30 - Drink a vodka martini very quickly.

7:35 - Boyfriend whispers that I look beautiful (insert collective "awwww!" or dry heaving here)

7:45 - Breathe sigh of relief, order second martini.

Do you think I'll be ready for Vancouver 2010? Look out, Norway!