Your day is charged with a tingly anticipatory excitement from the moment my eyes squint awake. It's hectic, and the new curlers are frustrating, and there's always some last minute important thing that was forgotten. But I love it.
There's something exhilarating about being a girl on days like this. The oh-so-important scent of hairspray hanging in the air, the warmth of steaming curls next to your ears, the glitter of your rarely-painted nails, the sticky shine of mascara and lipstick. There's something strangely satisfying about sliding a zipper up your side to enclose yourself in silk and satin and beads. Suddenly, you're slipping painted toenails into the perfectly matching pair of shoes and the dress-transformation scene from Cinderella flashes through your head in brilliant color and you look in the mirror.
The angel-soft curls cascade around your face - which for once looks magazine-cover worthy, your dress snuggles around all the curves you want it to, you smell like sunshine and the Botanical Gardens, your eyes sparkle, and without realizing it, the word princess floats to the surface of your mind. Wait a second. This is the same person who looked in the mirror this morning and saw messiness and tired eyes, right? The transformation is nothing short of magical.
And then, as you finish a dreamy sigh, the doorbell rings, and your breath catches. The pumpkin carriage and the prince have arrived.
The night is young, and so are you.
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