M y older brother, Eric, was getting married. Obviously, I was excited. I was finally getting another female family member to bond with. My mother died when I was little, and I had four older brothers, so I didn't really have anyone girly to bond with over girly stuff like make-up or periods or magazines or anything. My pubescent years were filled with many awkward talks with Dad, and quite a few embarrassing "monthly visitor" moments. Basically, I needed someone girly to girl up my girlitude.

Well, the day came, and I had only met Penelope a couple of times before the wedding. We hadn't had much time to bond, or whatever the heck you're supposed to do with your future sister-in-law. I (being a bridesmaid) was sitting in front of the mirror in my bathroom with all sorts of cosmetics that I had never used before spread out on the counter. I picked up something that I'd seen other girls using. I put it up to my eye like they did, and promptly poked myself in the cornea. Eye watering, I glared at the tip of the blasted little thing. Eyeliner, my foot! How was I supposed to use this without blinding myself permanently for the rest of forever? I sighed, put the little stick down, and picked up something that looked a little familiar. Lipstick.

I somehow managed to color in my lips without getting all over my face. I smiled at myself in the mirror, but grimaced upon finding my front teeth smeared with lipstick. I groaned. Laying my head down on the counter, I began to mutter curses upon the person who invented make up. There was a knock at the door, and it opened. Penelope came in wearing her wedding dress, took one look at me, and started laughing so hard she snorted.

"What?" I said, glaring at her. "So I'm sort of make-up-tarded. Big whoop." She laughed harder. I frowned/glared bigger. "You would be too if you had Things 1,2,3, and 4 as your older brothers." Penelope wiped daintily at her eyes so she wouldn't smear her perfect make up.

"I prefer the term 'cosmetically challenged,' but 'make-up-tarded' is just as good." She smiled and picked up the stupid eyeliner. "Come here." She put on my make-up for me, telling me what she was doing while she did it. By the time she was done, it was almost time for the actual wedding part of the wedding to start. She hugged me, then we went to wait for our cues.

Now, Penny and I are like sisters. She's been teaching me all sorts of stuff about being a girl, like tampons, and nail polish, and other stuff. She's really cool, and she always has something funny or interesting to say. She loves saying random facts during awkward silences, so now I know all sorts of weird stuff. Like, Winston Churchill was born in the ladies room at a dance. Betcha didn't know that, right?

Well, if you ask me what the basic point of this story is, I would guess it to be something along the lines of: "No matter how make-up-tarded you are, you can always find friendship in the pointiest of eyeliners." Or something like that.

AN: I thought you people should appreciate that I wrote this when I was half asleep. So. Appreciate away.