She claims to be “high-maintenance” and I’m not quite sure if that means she requires a lot of assistance from others to help her maintain her lifestyle or if she’s referring to the amount of time she spends maintaining her personal appearance. She once told me she gets up early everyday and hits the gym, before returning home to blowout her hair, eat a full breakfast, and get her kids off to school. Then she heads to the office and puts in a full day’s work there.
Whatever the case, you have to admire her. She takes a bite out of life, and without question, she looks good while doing it.
When we first became friends, she insisted we had similar hair and promised she could teach me how to tame it. It involved a trip to an upscale beauty supplier and the purchase of an expensive blow dryer, hairbrush, and glossing product. “You should try this mascara, too,” she said—a subtle attempt at the complete makeover. I bought it all, but admit I never quite mastered the ability to use the equipment. Nor did I adapt the desire to become a ‘high-maintenance’ woman.
Frankly, I don’t go out that much. And my kids and my husband don’t mind a makeup-free face and a curly ponytail protruding from the top of my head. (At least I don’t think they do). And if I ever feel dumpy, I either go for a run or jump on the elliptical and watch programs like Project Runway or Real Housewives recorded on my DVR. These so-called reality shows never fail to me make me feel a lot better about myself—and my life.
Meanwhile, the last couple times I got together with my beautiful friend, she pulled me aside and coated my bare lips with an intoxicating substance that has caused me an addiction.
“Try this,” she said, while producing a small silver tube with a pink cap. “You’ll totally love it. It brings out the natural color of your lips and livens ‘em up at the same time.”
I took the bait and applied the clear substance to my otherwise thin, unremarkable lips. After ten seconds, all I could say was, “WOW!” Not only did my lips transform into a lovely shade of pink, they swelled up to the point that I looked a bit like Meg Ryan after the collagen injections.
Well, not really, but the buzz in my lips got me a little high. It’s fair to say my vision was probably distorted. Plus, I wasn’t wearing my reading glasses, so I couldn’t see what I really looked like in the mirror.
The labeling on the tube suggests this “intuitive silky lip enhancement” will transform your lips into a “plumped-up pout.”
Okay, whatever. It’s far better than Carmex (the substance to which I was addicted in college). I have to say, I love the O-Plump because of the color, and because my beautiful friend recommended it.