Winter Skin Solutions

I realize this title sounds like an article in Cosmo, but I am 100% for serious here.  The dry winter air makes my skin go crazy, and last year was the worst by far.  I have four main areas of concern: lips, hands, face, and rest-of-body.  And I’ve found solutions for all of them!  And because I am feeling generous I will share them with the Internet.

First, lips.  I have many (many, many) lip balms and glosses and even a few sticks.  But most of them just sortof sit on top of my lips, looking pretty but just skimming the surface.  I wanted to find a lip balm that would actually penetrate the surface, and make my lips feel moisturized even after the surface layer wore off.  I finally found it in Burt’s Bees Replenishing Lip Balm with Pomegranate Oil.  Bonus points: it smells nice, and it has a pretty, subtle reddish tint.

Next, hands.  I really have two recommendations here. One is Serious Business, the other less so.  My go-to for seriously dry, itchy skin is Neutrogena Norwegian Formula Fast Absorbing Hand Cream.  The best part is the price: $6ish at Wal-Mart/Target/Walgreens.  It doesn’t have much of a scent, and it actually does absorb quickly so you don’t have to wait around for it to sink in before you can continue with your day.  My second hand cream suggestion is better for everyday dry skin, and I keep it in my purse for use throughout the day: L’Occitane Shea Butter Hand Cream.  Slightly shallow observations on this one: the tube is very pretty, and the smell is delicious.  It makes you smell like Rich (French) Lady, and don’t pretend like you don’t know what I mean.  My goal for all beauty products is really to smell like Rich Lady (of any nationality).

My pick for best face cream is honestly not my favorite.  It’s not The One, but it’s the best I’ve found so far: CeraVe Moisturizing Cream.  This is slightly expensive for a drug store cream (~$14), and I purchased it on the recommendation of my dermatologist.  I visited my dermatologist three times last winter trying to solve my dry skin woes, and I wasn’t even insured at the time–clearly very committed.  The CeraVe cream is awfully thick, and has no SPF so it’s not ideal for daytime use, but it does reduce the flakiness that randomly appears and makes my foundation look terrible.  The search continues!

Finally, rest-of-body (namely, arms and legs).  I tried Curel Ultra Healing lotion last year and I will never go back.  It sinks in fairly quickly, it has a really nice smell, and it really does get rid of that uncomfortable, tight-dry feeling.  It also lasts a really long time- I apply after my shower, and there’s no need for reapplication until my next shower.

Aaaand that’s it!  Go forth and be hydrated (and not itchy, at all).

 

 

In Thanksgiving

Yes, this is a week late and now it’s December which apparently means Christmas-all-the-time.  But I still wanted to write a Thanksgiving post, because this year I have a lot of reasons to be especially thankful.

On May 22, my hometown of Joplin, Missouri was hit by an F-5 tornado.  I had been home for a week, but left that morning to drive back to Chicago. My mom heard the sirens and started to drive to St. John’s hospital to take shelter in the basement, but turned around halfway there and headed back home.  She just barely made it into the house in time.

She lives on the very edge of town, and her street was the first residential area to be impacted.  We lost the back fence, patio furniture and grill, and a lot of shingles.  All of the windows on the east side of the house blew in, along with the glass French doors that open onto the patio.  Her house was unlivable for months. But just a few houses down, the damage was so extensive that our neighbors had no choice but to tear their homes down to the foundation and build again.  One block further east, homes were destroyed entirely.  Below is a photo of our little section of the neighborhood,with my mom’s house circled in red.  The first destroyed house is in the lower left corner, and if you follow the path east you can see the damage worsen very quickly.  I suggest you click to see an enlarged version, this doesn’t really do it justice.

So, so close.  The hospital where my mom was originally going to take shelter was hit directly.  Given the storm’s path, it’s unlikely she would have survived if she had continued driving there.  Or if she had driven home a little bit slower.

The tornado stayed on the ground for 32 minutes.  Its total track length was 22 miles, and at its worst it was a mile wide.  It killed 161 people.  The photo below gives some indication of its impact: you can see the trail moving from west to east and leaving behind what looks like a greyish-brown smudge. Like the tornado was a huge eraser.

Here is a closer look at the heart of the tornado zone.  Again, please click to enlarge.

It sounds trite, but most people live every day taking so many things for granted.  I know I did.  I took for granted the safety of my family, and the security of our home.  I took for granted the fact that we even had a home, with all of our possessions stored safely inside.  And then the tornado came, and it turned everything upside down.

I’m going to try very hard, from now on, to be thankful for all of these things that I used to take for granted.  Despite the horrible, life-changing relationship things that happened to me this year (to wit: an awesome combination of depression, alcoholism, extended infidelity, financial fraud/theft, and months of lies and emotional abuse resulting in the end of a ten-year relationship and now-pending litigation), I am blessed.  So, so blessed.

I am blessed to have my family and my home and my friends.  And I am especially blessed to have my job, which gives me the opportunity to spend all day every day serving those whose lives on May 23 looked a lot worse than they did on May 21.  My mom is back in her house, and things are mostly back to normal around here (or at least the “new normal”).  I want that for everyone here in Joplin.  Because we survived, and we’re rebuilding, and we’re going to be back stronger and better than ever.  We are all so blessed.

Sudden Obsession: Smashbox Photo Finish Lipstick

Let’s talk about makeup!  I have a bit of a Sephora problem, in that I…buy things from Sephora almost monthly.  What can I say, I like my makeup overpriced and in fancy boxes.  My most recent acquisition is Smashbox Photo Finish Lipstick in Flawless.  The Sephora site describes it as a “plummy nude,” which I guess is pretty apt.  The color swatch, on the other hand, is an insane mauve-y purple that no sane person would ever put on their lips.

This is the best “nude lip” I’ve found; not overly pink or overly beige, and you definitely don’t look like you put concealer on your lips.  Which is what a nude lip can sometimes look like.  Not this one!  It’s also pigmented enough to give you a bit of color, but not SO pigmented that you need a mirror for application like some lipsticks (Dior Addict in Red Carpet, I’m looking at you).  The lipstick itself goes on smooth, is surprisingly hydrating, and smells delicious.  Like candy?  Something sweet, anyway.

Plus, it came with a sample of Prada Infusion D’Iris.  Today is the first day I’ve worn it, but I think it might be my new favorite.  I’ve been searching for a new perfume for awhile now, and I bought this sampler from Tocca.  I had high hopes for several of these scents, but they have zero lasting power. I’m still trying to make it work, because I really, really want one of those pretty bottles sitting on my dresser.  What?  You know that’s half the appeal of perfume!  Don’t lie.

Thanksgiving Countdown

I cannot believe Thanksgiving is in one short week.  That means it’s time for menu planning!  I love trying new recipes, and also planning things, so clearly this is a very exciting time for me.  We’re going to have more company than originally expected; today the guest list went from four people to nine, which actually gives me much more leeway as I hate to have too many leftovers.

First, bread(s).  The easiest and safest option is buying some loaves from Panera, but c’mon.  That is super boring.  I’m torn between these 30 Minute Rolls and Pioneer Woman’s No-Knead Dinner Rolls.  The 30 Minute Rolls are very quick, but the No-Knead Dinner Rolls look like the rolls my Grandma always serves at her house, so it’s a tough call.  Please note both contenders require no kneading, because I know the kitchen will be crazy on Thanksgiving day and I don’t need any extra trouble.  I actually really love kneading bread; it’s very cathartic and the smell is divine.  But alas, no kneading for me this time around.

Next, appetizers.  I make an unbelievable spinach artichoke dip, but I think for Thanksgiving day a slightly more health-conscious approach is good.  I say slightly because both my appetizers involve large amounts of cream cheese.  But also, y’know, fruit and veggies and stuff.  I’m going to do a crescent roll veggie pizza and this apple dip, which looks a-mazing.

My mom is handling the actual turkey, stuffing and gravy.  Which is good news, because I get flustered when I roast a Cornish game hen, so I would probably have a nervous breakdown if I tried to tackle a turkey.  And the stuffing is an old family recipe, so there might be a riot if I tried to change it up.  It’s all very Fiddler on the Roof.

That leaves side dishes, like vegetables and whatnot.  Here I am clueless; clearly more research needs to be done.  But this will likely involve green beans, if we’re being honest.

Finally, desserts!  Hooray, my favorite.  We always have apple pie and pumpkin pie, and again, the apple pie is an old family recipe.  Last year I made Bakerella’s Pumpkin Pie Bites, and they were incredibly creamy and amazing.  The only thing I plan to change is the crust; I used store-bought and it was a mistake, much too salty.  So this year, made-from-scratch filling plus topping.

In addition to the standard pies, I really want to make Gourmet’s Bourbon Pumpkin Cheesecake.  I made this a few years ago and it was pretty life-changing, but I have no clue where my springform pan is, and three desserts might be a bit much…we will see.

Thanksgiving menu!  A work in progress, but we’ll get there.  I can’t wait to spend this time with my family.  It’s been a hard year.

Bad Men

I read Caitlin Flanagan’s profile of Oprah in the December issue of The Atlantic.  The whole thing is worth a read, but this passage in particular really rang true to me:

There are certain things about women that men will never understand, in part because they have no interest in understanding them.  They will never know how deeply we care about our houses–what a large role they play in our dreams for ourselves, how unhappy their shortcomings make us.  Men think they understand the way our physical beauty–or lack of it, or assaults on it from age or extra weight–preys on our minds, but they don’t fully grasp the significance these things have for us.  Nor can they understand the way physical comforts or simple luxuries–the fresh towel or the fat new cake of soap–can lift our spirits.  And they will never know how much our lives are shaped around the fear of bad men and the harm they can bring us if we’re not careful, if we’re not banded together, if we’re not telling each other what to watch out for, what we’ve learned.  We need each other’s counsel, and oftentimes it comes when we’re talking about other things, when we seem not to have much important on our minds at all.

I didn’t have much experience with bad men in my life until very recently, but when it came, it came all at once.  Between months of infidelity, even more months of lies and emotional manipulation bordering on abuse, and a grand finale of taking thousands of dollars of money from me, I think I’ve had my share.  And I will probably always be on the lookout for bad men, now.  It took just one bad man to get me there.

Veterans’ Day

Actual telephone conversation with an elderly, borderline-deaf client yesterday:

Me: “When would you like to come by my office?”
C: “I can come tomorrow.”
Me: “I’m sorry sir, our office is closed tomorrow for Veterans’ Day.”
C: “Is it election day? Time to vote already.”
Me: No, veterans’ day.”
C: “Election day?”
Me, shouting: “Veterans’ day! Veterans? Soldiers?”
C: “Oh, veterans’ day. Did you know I’m a veteran?”
Me: “No, I didn’t. Well, it’s your day!”
C: “Huh. Guess it is.”

Happy Veterans’ Day! I am celebrating with Papa John’s and Toddlers & Tiaras. Y’know, keeping it classy.

Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld

Taking a cue from Maggie at Mighty Girl, here are the best parts of Prep by Curtis Sittenfeld:

• My heart was beating faster.  This was a kind of teasing I didn’t like, when boys mocked you in a way that assumed you could not, just as easily, mock them back; they took for granted their own wit, and your own squeamishness and passivity.

• The interest I felt in certain guys then confused me, because it wasn’t romantic, but I wasn’t sure what else it might be.  But now I know: I wanted to take up people’s time making jokes, to tease the dean in front of the entire school, to call him by a nickname.  What I wanted was to be a cocky high-school boy, so fucking sure of my place in the world.

• I had suspected before, and the whole day only reinforced the suspicion, that money could make your life nice, that you could want it not for reasons of greed but for reasons of comfort, because it allowed you to send for your daughter and her friends in a limousine, to eat food that tasted good in a pretty setting, to be heavy and still wear nice clothes.  One of my mother’s friends was about as fat as Mrs. Maxwell, but she wore sweatpants and flowered smocks.

• Most of the other parents resembled one another: The fathers were tall and thin and had gray hair and rueful smiles, and they wore suits.  The mothers’ hair was ash-blond and they wore headbands and pearl earrings and black cardigan sweaters with gold buttons over long plaid skirts, or else–the skinny ones wore this–pantsuits in beige or charcoal, with silk scarves around their necks.  (Also, the mothers had names that made it hard to imagine they’d ever held real jobs: Fifi and Tinkle and Yum.)

• In fact, the word campaigning was used as an accusation, not unlike ass-kissing.  This desperate aversion to seeming like you wanted anything, or worse, to going after it, stayed with me for years after I left Ault.  When I graduated from college, my father told me he was concerned that I didn’t express enough enthusiasm in job interviews, and the comment shocked me. Enthusiasm was a thing you were supposed to show?  But wasn’t it a little disgusting, didn’t it seem the same as greed or neediness?  Of course you wanted the job, I thought, and the interviewer should know that because why else would you have shown up in his office?

• We were passing the Kroger near our house, the dry cleaner’s and movie rental place.  This, also, always happened in South Bend- I was struck by how homely it was, how accustomed I’d become to Ault’s bricks and flagstones and Gothic tower, its marble mantels and blond-haired girls.  Outside of Ault, people were fat, or wore brown ties, or seemed to be in bad moods.

• Before they left, my mother exclaimed festively “Get pepperoni on it!” which was one of her comments that sort of seemed funny and sort of made me want to cry– my mother’s sense of what was extravagant and celebratory, her attention to whether I was celebrating, her kindness to me.

• It seemed an impossible thought–so often did we all come together at Ault that I had begun to believe life contained reckonings rather than just fade-outs–and yet I also saw then that as more and more years passed, the time Conchita and I had known each other, the time I had known any of my classmates, would feel decreasingly significant; eventually, it would be only a backdrop to our real lives.  At some cocktail party years into the future, in an incarnation of myself I could not yet fathom, I would, while rummaging for an anecdote, come up with one about a girl I’d known at boarding school whose mother took us out for lunch one day while the family bodyguard sat at the next table.  In the telling, I would feel no pinch of longing or regret; I would feel nothing true, nothing at all, in fact, except the wish that my companions find me amusing.