Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Shiny Kisses

Hi, my name is Charis (like 'carrots' without the T) and I am a lip gloss addict.

This started at the age of twelve and a half when a glorious trip to the main street drug store ended with one of these bad boys putting a faded circle on my jeans pocket forevermore:
...or rather, until they stopped making Candy Kisses when I was in college (tear).

I loved their sweet taste, their satiny sheen and their yummy smell. I doubly loved that my kissing buddies in high school noticed their deliciousness (my first boyfriend's nickname for me was "sweet lips" thanksverymuch, and no, we never went past 2nd base....oh the memories). He's also the one who introduced me to bonfire parties, which introduced me to my first taste of alcoholic beverages (ahem Coors Light, the drink of choice for backwoods Virginia circa 1998...) - during my first attendance, I met a gorgeous blonde, a few years older than me, who took my shy, self-conscious self under her wing for the evening.

"Here honey, have a drink!" as she grabbed a red plastic cup and filled it from the keg.
"Um, thanks..." (as I sipped and tried not to gag...remember the first time you had beer! Ulghchfg gross!)

Being the youngest person present, I didn't want to drink too much and go annoyingly loud or annoyingly barfy, so I decided to stay with one only.

20 minutes later...

"Hey, your cup is empty! Here ya go."

(okay, can't say no, but this is the last one...)

30 minutes later....

"You're shivering! Are you cold? You're not drunk enough!"


And that, my friends, was how I came home at 3am, doing drunk-driving road tests in my bathroom, giggling, trying not to wake up my mom (yes, she woke up).

Good times, that.

But I digress.

Back to lip gloss.

A boyfriend I had after college (who was a horrifical piece of work, lemme tell ya, but that's a TOTALLY different post) wasn't a fan of my delicious addiction, but he was a singular outlier in more ways than just one (ew let's not discuss it).

...But eventually, after I'd stocked up when I heard the company was closing and a year or two passed with me being happily dewy-lipped, I ran out.

And cried.

No I didn't. I'm totally kidding.

Ok, maybe I did cry a little.

But then, after months and months of fruitless searches and tasteless greasy failed attempts to locate a new love, I found this:
and all is right again with the world.

I figure, a girl needs one crutch, right?