I like lipstick.
Every time I see a lipstick I get a little bit excited.
Every time I see a lipstick I want to buy it.
I want to open it up and smear it all over my stupid face.
I’ve got great lips, and lipstick looks AMAZING smeared over my stupid face.
I prefer a good matte finish (just get out of here with your useless, disgusting gloss-soaked wands) and I’ll never pay more than $9.99 for a tube of the stuff, but that is because I am both a cheap bastard, and because I am apt to conclude that there cannot be THAT big of a difference between my Joe Fresh collection and what’s being shipped out of the Chanel Institute.
I mean, how could you possible justify charging (least of all PAYING!) fifty dollars for a shade of red that exists in perpetuity in every drug store the wide world over?
I SEE YOU SEPHORA.
When I left my last position I was gifted with a very generous gift certificate to a downtown shopping mall and with these funds I purchased a forty dollar Tarte lip pencil. And while this product is darn fantastic and makes me lips tingle and taste of minty freshness, I would never again purchase this piece of maquillage because forty dollars is basically two to three days’ worth of groceries and I’m only ever eating that pencil if and when things get really dire.
Anyway, no matter how much or little I pay, lipstick makes me feel like an absolute super hero.
I put it on five minutes before leaving work and I am immediately transformed from Grouchy Eye Bag McGrimmeister into Kick-Ass She-Warrior McHyphenate.
Sure, maybe I was born with it, but holy hell if this shade of pink doesn’t crank it up a notch:
Those are your nuts in my vice grip.
I never understanding people who say to me, “I wish I could wear lipstick like you!”
And then when I inform them that there isn’t a single thing prohibiting them from taking part in the universal fun that is lipstick, they respond with, “Oh no, I could never do that!”
And to this, I always just want to yell into their faces – WHY!?
Why in the heck would you think that, you weirdo!?
Unless born lipless (and what a tragedy to befall anyone!), everyone is 100% capable of wearing lipstick.
And I urge you, and everyone to try it.
I’ll hold your hand and everything.
But it’ll cost you fifty dollars in Chanel product.
And your nuts.
I don’t like Mark Messier.
In fact, Mark Messier is like the anti-lipstick.
I don’t get excited when I see him.
I don’t want to smear him all over my face.
I wouldn’t spend ANY money on him, and he doesn’t make me feel unstoppable.
And much to my chagrin, he’s EVERYWHERE.
The dude is all over Youtube like some terrifying, leather-clad social media STI.
Every time he pops up, Marc (my husband) asks, “Is this a Cialis ad?”
AND IT TOTALLY IS.
I don’t know why Mr. Messier grinds my gears to the extent that he does.
Perhaps it’s the ghost of my hard core emotional hangover from the summer of 1994 (combined with the broken heart I suffered in 2011.)
Perhaps it’s the memory of his crappy Lays potato chip ads.
Perhaps it’s because the NHL is such a ridiculous bush league, run by bums, dullards, and hacks, that any reminder of this organization and the garbage it stands for makes me want to ralph.
Basically folks, it could be a whole myriad of things.
But all I really want to say is that NO ONE IS ASKING YOU ANYTHING MARK MESSIER.
You and lip gloss can just get the heck out of here.
Yesterday I bought a homeless person a hot chocolate.
I try to do these things as often as I can, although it can be hard. Living my own busy, silly little life can leave me so caught up in getting from A to B (or achieving A to Z) that I don’t often see the different humanities co-existing right in front of my eyes.
Sometimes I feel like I don’t spend enough of my life with my eyes wide open. That I should be feeling more, doing more – affecting more positive change within my day to day activities.
But then I know I am being too hard on myself. That I work very hard to ensure that I am engaged and making a difference every day, both personally and professionally.
I cannot do everything for everyone, every day and all of the time.
No one could do this even if they try.
Which is why I do.
Which is why I really, really try.
3 thoughts on “She’s just so mouthy”
Mentally, I’m bended over, hands on knees, catching my breath as if I’ve just run the ridiculous types of mileage you do. And we all know I do not run. I’m exhausted after reading this post. Will respond/comment/monologue later. Must “close up shop” in my brain before spontaneous combustion.
Truly, you leave the very best comments. :)