I don’t like lipstick. I mean sure, it makes my mouth look pretty, but half the time I put it on wrong and manage to give myself an extra inch of lip all the way around. The other half of the time I end up blotting it all off. I hate that. I also hate that when I drink something, I leave lipstick on the glass or bottle or straw and then (this is the kicker), I taste it in my beverage. I’m sorry, but these long-lasting, smooch-proof lipsticks are not match for me.
I guess the reason this irritates me so is because ultimately it reminds me that I am a girl who’s hunting for a man. It’s so impossible for me to admit that because I’m young and independent and blah blah blah, but I make this effort to look nice so that one (or more) boys will find me attractive. So I can have a few more choices when I begin the great Husband Search.
That’s really pathetic, isn’t it?
Don’t answer that.
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