Beauty regimes through the "ages"

This morning I was going through my morning beauty regime and my mind began to wander the way it does, you know, "where's my blush applicatior?  There it is, the brush bristles look like horse hair, I wonder if horse hair brushes are made from the horse's tails, Paige loves horses, her birthday is next month, do I have a gift for her, I need a gift for a wedding reception next week, I need to go shopping, oh I'm out of lemons I better put them on the list, ooo, I love lemon in my diet coke, wow, I'm thirsty".  and then I go in the kitchen to get a diet coke and standing in front of the fridge I think, "what was I doing?"  But, I have wandered off the path of my subject, so let me turn this jalopy of a brain around and see if I can get back on path.

When I was in my teens, my beauty regime consisted of picking the sleep goobers out of the corners of my eyes in the morning, brushing my teeth, and combing my hair.  There, good to go.  In my early twenties I may have added a bit of mascara and the slightest tinge of blush.  In my thirties, I finally grew up and discovered eye shadow and lip stick and increased my regime from 30 seconds each day to about 15 minutes and I felt like I looked respectable.  Then, this morning, I am assembling the massive array of products necessary to achieve that somewhat acceptable look and wondering what happened.  At what point did my routine go from a little wisp here and there to the following:  1.  scrub face with industrial strength cleanser containing crushed lava rock to shock the skin cells and capillaries back to life.  2:  slather gobs of expensive rehydrating cream all over my face and watch the cells suck it in like unprimed drywall.  3:  Scan the entire surface of my face with a magnifying mirror to remove hair growth in unwanted places such as the middle of my forehead, upper lip, chin, nose and any other bizarre locations the hair has decided to grow on my face.  4:  apply cover up to the various patches of skin that can't remember that I am caucasian and should not have dark brown patches of skin on my face.  5:  Now that I have shaded the brown patches to match the rest of my face, I apply an all over cover up to change that color from something resembling a rotting corpse to something more in the range of a living, breathing person.  Now that the basic canvas has been created I can apply some color to my eyelids, a touch of pink to my cheeks, and attempt to make eyelashes that look more like the 5th day of beard stubble, appear instead to be long and wispy by applying overpriced mascara.(I don't think I have really perfected this process yet.)  That being done, I now color in the eyebrows that are barely exist due to the fact that the eyebrow hairs have forgotten where they are supposed to grow and have appeared in other, less desirable places on my face, thereby necessitating their removal in item #3 above.  At last, I have managed to apply, through the gift of modern cosmetology, a face that somewhat resembles a living human being.  Now, I carefully shellac the whole thing with a little sealing powder to assure it remains in place for at least half the day.  I smooth on a bit of lipstick for color (it will be gone in 2 minutes when I remember that half finished diet coke on the counter and I go in and finish it) and stand in front the mirror to give my stamp of approval.  Sadly, as I stand and stare at the thing I have created, all I can think is, "who is that old lady in my mirror......oh ya, I have a bunch of episodes of Hot in Cleveland on the DVR I need to watch,  where is my watch?, what time is it......................