morning comparisons
by imdeb
She leans against the countertop silently, her mouth gaped open slightly, the familiar face of any girl putting on eye make up. Its 9am. Already her teenage acne is covered, Sephora brand coverup plastered over her face like frosting. I look at my own acne covered face, except I’m not a teenager, ugh. “How was your night?” she asks. “Boring.” I reply. Another night spent on the couch of my ex-boyfiend’s house doing things you shouldn’t do with an ex-boyfriend. “How was your night?” I keep the conversation going even though I don’t want to know what she did last night, I’m just being nice. I tune most of her out as I go to work scrubbing my own face, hoping to scrub the zits away. Something about a party, how typical of her. I shove a tooth brush in my mouth and she goes on about people I don’t know and people I don’t like. She begins on her hair. It’s just a hue away from jet black. Her skin, tanned with expensive wipes from a store I’ve never been in in the mall, glows in the light. I’m white as a ghost. But I mean, it is January. I pull out the Covergirl coverup I bought at Wal-mart. It’s about three shades lighter than hers. I smear it onto my face. Discouraged, I turn to my hair. It’s mousey brown. I absolutely hate it. It looks dead and lifeless, frizzy, muted, ugly. I dyed it from blonde to brown to see if I liked the change. I don’t. It makes me feel fake even though it is closer to my natural hair color than the light blonde I had turned it. I look like a preteen, awkward, pale, tired. She is snapping in her nearly black extensions as I comb through my snarled brown mop. “What are you doing today?” I ask her. “Shopping with Alix” she responds. I’m not sure but I’m starting to think that shopping is one of her favorite activities. I glance at her in the mirror. Her low cut shirt I’ve never seen before, brand new. Her $50 bra does a lot more work then any of my bras have ever done. I look at myself in my old sweatpants and thread bare Fun-Run shirt that I got in the 6th grade. Who puts on a bra before 11am? I’ve made little progress on my appearance and I’m feeling pretty drained from looking at myself this long in the mirror. I look over at her again, she is curling her dark hair with a hot iron. I drag some mascara across my eyelashes and even trace my bottom lid with eyeliner. I don’t have any plans today.
