(Belabored, glue-impaired wink)

If Super Social Food and Makeup League of Austin wasn't going to go ALL OUT on Mardi Gras, what would be the point? I mean, have you even considered that? The point? Of any of it? I sure did while hovering near my bathroom mirror around 6 p.m. on Tuesday night! But I'm getting ahead of myself. Regan and I headed out to Sawyer & Co. to put the Fat in Tuesday, because we could go any number of places and get deviled eggs as an appetizer, but a holiday calls for the involvement of praline bacon:

And also, cheese fries with brown gravy and jalapeños.


And I wouldn't recommend this to everyone, but as leaders in our field we knew it was our responsibility to bring it all home with some pie.

So I would say the food side of things went pretty tremendously. We tested our physical digestive limits and came out stronger, or at least slightly larger, for it. But there were other limits to be tested. Emotional. Psychological. Eyelid-strength-related.

Here is what my face looks like, more or less:

Bonus: the hoodie I once gave birth in.

Here's my, ah, stunning transformation using the stick-on velvet sequined eyeliner that Regan bestowed upon me:


However uncomfortable you think that looks, multiply it by 200. Like, if given a choice between four hours of stick-on velvet sequined eyeliner and giving birth in a hoodie again, I would have to give it some real consideration.

I can't give you a "before" picture of Regan, because frankly I do not even remember what she looked like before I made her put these things on her face, nor do I want to:

Here's what you don't see in a still photograph: the way they cartoonishly SPROINGED up and down every time she blinked. I am laughing right now, thinking about it. A lot.

Here is the general range of reactions I expect from strangers when we parade around in this nonsense: amusement, confusion, embarrassment on our behalf, nothing at all because Austin/weirdness. Here is what I was actually pretty surprised by this time around: the veeeeeeeerrrrry thinly-veiled hostility of our waitress. She was not okay with our shenanigans. She probably spit in our brown gravy. Maybe she was operating on GMT and it was already Ash Wednesday in her mind? Maybe she assumed we were going to be obnoxious drunks, despite all Topo Chicos to the contrary? Maybe she was just jelzzzz and haters gonna hate? We'll never know. What I do know is that we have set the bar very, very high on this particular social experiment, and that we think we're joking now about making each other bust out with some vaping mid-meal but we'll see how things are going in a year or so.

Anyway, because we are sort of aimlessly competitive, we would like for the internet to declare a winner among losers for this round, although I'm not sure what qualities would constitute a win. Picking the most punishing accessory? Or enduring it? Eh, whatever, just vote for which look you like the best, knowing that if I had GIFed up Regan's SPROING it would be no contest.

Let's close out on a happy note, with Ivy singing her favorite song.

"You are my sunshine!
My only sunshine!
You make me happy!
When pies are great!"