2010 "Best" Random Beautifying List

I was reading Allure the other day, and they put out a "best of" list for beauty products.  I swear that they just  write down the winners based upon number of press releases on the topic.  And nothing ever changes.  The same mascara they liked last year is STILL their favorite this year.  As someone who constantly finds things that are new and better, I am skeptical of this blind obsession to one product; one that, having tried it, doesn't work very well.  Therefore, I'm making a random list of wonderful things that make me happy they exist.

May as well start with the obvious:

1.  Best Mascara
* Bare Escentuals Flawless Definition Mascara
Not only does the little brush grab every lash and elongate it, but the mascara also seems to make my lashes grow more lush.   Turns out this was part of the intent of the mascara, though they don't advertise it.  I'm not AS crazy about the waterproof version, but it's still a really nice mascara.

2.  Best Body & Hand Lotion
* Jason:  Lavender Hand & Body Therapy Lotion
I am constantly searching for really moisturizing lotions since I live in the driest state in the continent.  And, being allergic to Shea Butter, all the good ones were out of reach . . . or so I thought.  Then I tried my Mom's Jason Lavender lotion and learned that Mom is ALWAYS right (well, MOSTLY right).  It's incredibly moisturizing - even on my normally so-dry-they-peel hands, and the scent is wonderful.  This coming from someone who usually avoids lavender products because often the smell is cloying.  Plus, it's relatively inexpensive.

3.  Face Care for sensitive, acne-prone but also very dry, skin
* Cleanser:  Kiehl's Centella Skin-Calming Facial Cleanser
This simple cleanser gets your whole day off of your face while still being extremely gentle.  Plus, Kiehl's products are anti-animal testing - which is a huge plus in my book.  All of that said, I still haven't forgiven Kiehl's for discontinuing the BEST face cleanser (a wonderful, creamy milk and honey concoction) that made my skin incredibly soft.  But I have made up for this with:


*LaConchita Naturals Honey Drops
I have often blessed Etsy.com for providing me with unique and wonderful little shopping joys, but this one really takes the cake.  After Kiehl's broke my heart with the cancellation of its milk and honey cleanser, I spent hours online searching for another oil-free cleanser with honey (which seems to really add moisture without causing acne).  Lo and behold, I discovered LaConchita's honey drops which I just add to my cleanser before using it, and my face ends up clean, soft and smelling sweet.


* Oil-Free Face Lotion: Kiehl's Sodium PCA Oil Free Moisturizer
And we are back to  Kiehl's.  Having tried so many products, I have really found Kiehls to be the only line that works for my skin.  In fact, they have the only eye serum that doesn't  make me look like I got in a bar fight the night before - and I've tried ALL of the sensitive eye serums on the market.  And reacted to them all.  In any case, as most folks with acne-prone skin know, oil-free lotions are a necessity, but they also tend to be thin and not very moisturizing.  Or so I believed until I tried the Sodium PCA Oil Free Moisturizer.  This thick, wonderful cream fully softens and moisturizes without causing any breakouts.  Plus, a tiny bit goes a long way, so one jar will usually last me at least 6 months.


* Fighting Aging:  Philosophy Booster Retinol Caps & Philosophy Turbo Booster C Powder
 I had all but given up on any chance to stop the wrinkles and lines slowly growing on my face since most products cause my face to erupt like an active  volcano.    Welcome Philosophy Booster Caps with Retinol.  These little gold pods which you twist open have a gooey Retinol-filled fluid inside that you mix with your lotion at night and, VOILA, the next morning your skin looks radiant and younger.  So far, I have not had any sensitivity to the caps, though I use them every other night.  A more recent discovery from the same line is Philosophy's Turbo Booster C Powder which you use in your lotion in the morning.  It gives you instant brightness and, because it's a powder, doesn't "turn" like many other Vitamin C anti-agers.

4.  Best Red Lipstick for Fair Skin
* Clinique's Angel Red
My husband and I started watching film-noir movies every Saturday night, and I pined to have my lips look as red and luscious as the leading ladies (at least in the few films that were in color).  Turns out, though, that unless you are on the Oscar's red carpet, most red lipsticks can make you look more like you are trying out for Barnum & Bailey's clown car.  I tried on numerous shades at makeup counters and bought too many Revlon's at the drug store only to constantly be disappointed.  Then I read about Clinique's Angel Red in a magazine and rushed out to try it.  It's the perfect red.  Not too pigmented that you can only wear it at night, enough blue in it so that you don't look clownish, and enough moisture so you don't see lip lines.  Bring on the red carpet.


5.  Best Eyeliners
* Makeup Forever Aqua Eyes Eyeliner
Eyeliner is a new addition to my beauty routine.  For too many years I eyed the little pencil fearfully - unable to put it on in a nice, straight line.  One day, wandering around Sephora, I picked up one of Makeup Forever's beautifully pigmented eyeliners, and I was "Forever" theirs.  The liner is soft enough that you can make it smokey if you wish.  It glides on with beautiful precision and lasts until you take it off at night.  And the colors are truly remarkable and vibrant.


6.  Best Foundation
* Bare Escentuals Mineral Makeup
Perhaps the one place I agree with the magazines' top 10 is Bare Escentuals Foundation and Mineral Veil.  Ever since I tried this makeup four years ago, I have been hooked.  My skin immediately became more even and glowing - even without the makeup.  With the makeup my face looks flawless, but not cakey.  In fact, most folks don't think I'm wearing any makeup - and I get constant complements on my "flawless" skin.  The Mineral Veil is key to finishing the look after using the foundation and any other makeup you chose.  The moment you put it on, your look comes together with a perfect 1940s softness.  The added bonus is that both the foundation and Mineral Veil contain SPF 15, AND, should you choose, you can now get Mineral Veil that contains SPF 25.


7.  Best Jewelry
* Harmony Scott and The Artisan Center
Okay, technically no magazines include jewelry in their top beauty list.  But I think it's essential to the whole package.  Plus, nothing in the world makes you feel more beautiful than a gorgeous accessory.  Both of the stores listed above carry unusual and stunning jewelry guaranteed to become your favorite pieces and garner you numerous compliments.  Harmony Scott is a local Colorado jeweler who has stores in Carbondale and Aspen and creates incredible jewelry art.  Never fear, you don't need to drive all the way up to Carbondale.  Her website [www.harmonyscott.com] is loaded with wonderful goodies - and, if you sign up for her newsletter or become a Facebook fan, you often get great deals.  The Artisan Center in Cherry Creek North carries similar gorgeous and eclectic pieces from many different jewelers - many of them local.  

This list is by no means complete.  I expect to continue adding more products as I suddenly remember what wonderful discovery I forgot to share.

Burning down Ortho-McNeil-Janssen

I haven't written in a while, but there are times that require some unburdening.  This past week and a half have been the worst days of my life.

My family and I are not known for being able to tell the "short story," but I'll do my best.  There's only so much room allowed on a post before it becomes your whole page!

For the past three years, I have suffered from chronic pelvic and leg pain, muscle spasms, and, within this past year, an arm tremor.  I am being treated with "opiate" therapy, which is exactly how it sounds.  Basically I'm a walking poppy garden and have a tendency to talk for hours, giggle, and spend incredible amounts of money on the internet when that garden is . . . overwhelmed with blooms.

In order to attempt to stop the pain without using addictive narcotics, we have tried acupuncture, nerve blocks (my last one was 21 shots into my belly with a three-inch needle - I wore black nail polish in order to show how bad-ass I am), surgery, and, of course, nerve medications.

Nerve medication is a special animal.  My friend and constant life-saver and angel, Aimee decided that the word "stuff" could replace any word in the English language because the drugs cause a person to constantly say:  "I was walking down the . . . the . . . oh, what's the word for the place with the sand and the people wearing inappropriate, tiny pieces of clothing they should never wear?"  You basically become an idiot.

And, not one of them work for my problem, it seems.

My recent medication, Topamax, caused many joyful side-effects while not actually helping me in any way (a.k.a., edema that made it painful to get out of bed in the morning and also decreased the shoes I could wear in my closet, full-body joint pain, bouts of random crying,  and . . . what's the word . . . ???).

So, I made the decision to get off the medication.  I went off the "Dope"amax the way the doctor told me to and immediately felt relief in my joints and could finally wear those cute shoes!  Unfortunately, one day after finishing the medication I was slammed with severe depression due to the withdrawal.

I have discovered how much word "depressed" is overused and misused by people who have had a bad day.  True chemical depression is nothing like having a bad day.  It's the most world-ending, soul-crushing, painful experience I have ever felt.  Never in the three years of chronic pain have I come close to feeling this type of sadness and apathy.  To make matters worse, Ryan, my amazing husband who can make everything better, was out of town and I ended up having to go stay with my Mom.

I am a very independent person, but this withdrawal has turned me into someone who cannot be alone without bursting into hours of tears.  I didn't want to see any of my friends when it was at its worst because nothing, nothing will cheer you up.  You can't just "think positively" with true depression.  It is like asking someone with a broken leg to just imagine it's healed and go take a run.

And all I can do is wait.  Wait for the withdrawal to end.  Hope, when I'm having a good day, that the next day won't turn around and slap me across the face.  Hope that the next time Ryan leaves I don't turn into a puddle of mush.  Wait until I become the person I have always been; someone who sees the glass half full with a yummy milkshake.  Someone who, in spite of definitely milking it in order to get babied by the hubby,  has not allowed any physical pain to destroy her like the mental anguish of these last days.

I'm drinking my body weight in water hoping to flush it out, taking long walks, and enjoying the one benefit of depression as my clothing gets too big on me from the lack of any interest in food. Of course, I only enjoy that on the good days.

So, this all goes to explain to many friends and coworkers why I've been absent the past two weeks.  I couldn't bear being around anyone but my Mom.  Sometimes only a mommy can help you through this type of bone-deep emotional pain.  I was so afraid I would go to a meeting and start sobbing, ruining all my credibility and likely starting another rumor that I have a bun in the oven.  Which I do not.  Unless it's the remnants of the many cinnamon rolls I ate in Crested Butte last month.

My apologies for a rather "down" post.  But sometimes the bad things have to be pulled out, examined, played with and written down in order for the healing to finally have a place to settle.

Here's hoping . . .

Bite Me

I've discovered a new obsession.  And, since I am ostensibly a 12-year-old girl, this obsession of course revolves around vampires that show up weekly on the CW.  The Vampire Diaries.  Even though we all know that TVD is just a rip off of Twilight which was just a rip off of the Buffy/Angel saga - - I'm still intrigued.

What IS it about these undead men?  They have the ability to kill us in one second, but THESE bad guys are trying to be good.  They keep their bad guy pasts, but are, basically, emasculated - vampirically speaking (a.k.a., eunuch fangs).

Which, of course, makes me think back and realize that these shows, these books, all are just rip offs of an older "chick flick," Jane Eyre.   Jane is intrigued and in love with Edward Rochester - - but he's just too tormented and dangerous  to be with.  That and the same-old, same-old problems women always face with men - -  the crazy, pyromaniac wife in the attic.

Ignoring that for a moment, Jane is only able to be with Edward once he's blind and needs her.  Once he is, for all intents and purposes, emasculated.

Which brings us back to the original question, why are we women attracted to this idea?  A man not being himself.  A man fighting against his own personality and instinct.  How exhausting.  While I truly enjoy these romantic, "you are the only woman in the world for me," star-crossed lovers, I am very happy to come home every night to my easy-going, happy, drama-less husband who doesn't fight his innate personality and every once in a while cracks a very un-Edward-like poop joke.

Because, in the end, these pale, sad, bloodless Romeos would become very trying and annoying after years of eating alone and spending long evenings of "meaningful talks" with no possibility of a laugh-inducing poop joke.

Ode

This was going to be a post about a wonderful dessert called "Maddie's Wacky Apple."  But circumstances have dimmed the apple's importance.

Found out tonight that my wonderful friend A. is scheduled for a cesarian tomorrow.  This is about three weeks earlier than her due date and things have not been going well for her.  Right now there is a clot forming near her heart.  And I'm scared.  I think we all are.  A. is one of the most incredible people I have ever known.  She's dynamic and intelligent.  Beautiful and hilarious.  Loyal and protective.  One of those people who everyone wants to be around, like a sun with many planets circling her.  She's also has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know, and her warmth and kindness have changed the lives of so many people.  I've really only been close to her for about a year, and yet I feel like I've known her forever.  And her friendship has gotten me through some difficult times.  She can always make me smile, chortle, cry from laughter, and, now, cry with worry.

The only thing that seemed to lighten the fear is a text I received from another pregnant close friend, J.  J, turns out, is in labor tonight.  There's a strange meaningfulness in this for me.  I have always said that A reminds me of J, who I have been friends with for many, many years.  From the outside, they are as different as different can be.  J is gentle and often quiet, while A is often raucous and a born storyteller.  J is very proper, while A is more of a rebel - covered in tattoos.

Yet, they are both the most thoughtful people I know.  Being around them is like being around a rainbow.  They each have a similar grace and light.  Each is a source of strength, happiness, and joy.  And they are both some of the truest friends a woman could be blessed to have.

I think there is a reason J. went into labor tonight.   Like somehow, even though they are miles away, they are in this together.  Giving each other strength and support through the difficulties.

Two women.  Different, but also the same.  Giving birth to children who will likely share a birthday and hopefully become friends.  And one day, be there for each other when life becomes difficult.

I'm looking forward to meeting these children.  With mothers like theirs', they will be very special children indeed.

Smell My Finger

Part of the reason I started this blog was because I was about to have to go through some strange procedures to deal with my chronic pelvic pain.  The short and much less boring version of the story is that, for the past 3 years, wayyy too many doctors have examined my private areas trying to find the culprit of the pain.  This culminated in December with a surgery that required my legs to be splayed in the air at a weird angle while doctors did things that would be illegal in some southern states, I'm sure.  I have lost any hope of modesty.

The best part of this was the discovery that the humiliating experience didn't do anything.  So, the residents who did the surgery suggested . . . pelvic physical therapy.

As much as those words make you think of a pelvis in leggings and stretching to "Let's Get Physical," it honestly sounds horrifying when described.  My hubby told me to start a blog called "Smell My Finger" to at least make people, and myself, laugh about it.  Believe it or not, the blog title, "Smell My Finger," was taken.

On a good note, I am going to cancel my first scheduled probing because the pain doctor wants to try something first.  That something would be sticking large needles into my groin area in an attempt to do a nerve block.  "Smell My Finger" now seems like a dream come true, eh?

So, this means two more doctors are going to be messing with areas people should never attempt pierce with a long needle.  Probably while I'm immodestly dressed and on so much Valium I start doing line kicks.

At this point, don't you think at least ONE of these doctors should have bought me dinner?

Mush brain.

Cats are unusual creatures.  I have always been a dog person.  I'm a cuddler, so the idea of an entity that is devoted to me, adores me, and greets me with such happiness is without compare.  Then we got a cat.

I think you get dogs for constant companionship and adoration.  You get cats to have a return to that feeling you had when the high school quarterback noticed you in the hallway and called you by the wrong name.  Yes, he called you "Laura," but he TALKED TO YOU!  That excitement to be singled out . . . that feeling of never knowing if you will be noticed, but knowing it could happen any moment . . . the drama of possibly being rebuffed, but also possibly being adored . . . that is why we get cats.  

When a cat deigns to sit on your lap, you feel like you've been chosen.   When the cat turns her head and bites her sharp teeth into a fleshy part of your hand, you long for those old days of purring companionship.

The unknown.

She's trying to sneak rawhides on the plane!

I was reading "Newsweek" this morning, which I'd like to say is a common occurrence, but I'd be lying.  They had an article about the new full-body scanners at airports, and they showed . . . a picture . . . of what the TSA people see.

I will not be flying again.

This picture is detailed enough that if I have an ingrown hair in a certain area that shall not be mentioned, TSA will be there with tweezers to pluck it out.  It's truly horrifying how vivid these pictures are.

This all made me think about America and how we are often THAT GUY.  You know the one.  The guy who pulls out his turbo-charged, titanium-bladed saw in order to cut a stray thread.  Can someone tell me what was wrong with good old German Shepherds?  They smell everything.  They can be very menacing when necessary.  And you pay them in milk bones.  All we needed at airports are DOGS!  And the bonus would be that they could also let you know if you are pregnant or have a cancerous tumor.  It would be like one-stop shopping.

Sure, people might question whether those sharp noses would catch the knife and the box cutter.  But see, I don't think that's what we need to look for.  The next idiot who pulls out a knife on board a plane is going to end up hogtied with Little Jane's shoelaces from seat 14C and will have Jim, the rotund man in 17A, sitting resolutely on the idiot's back.  Roy, 2B, who needs some anger management classes, might or might not kick the idiot in the shins for the heck of it.  We've seen what happens in a post 9-11 world when someone pulls out a knife.  It isn't pretty for the idiot.

So, until Fido is my TSA guard - I will either not be flying or will write a big F U on my stomach in magic marker just to let the guards know what I think of their snazzy version of a turbo-charged, titanium-bladed saw.

All right, Mr DeMille, I'm ready for my close up.

I've made some interesting discoveries recently.  I haven't solved world hunger, nor have I found the hidden world that all the lone socks migrate to from the dryer, but I've made some strange, if silly, discoveries.  And I've decided it's these little things we should enjoy and celebrate - no matter how mundane they seem.

Here we  go:
1.  I do one hell of a Norma Desmond impersonation.  We are not quite sure WHY I'm able to mimic the former silent star slash nutcase who buries her pet monkey in a child's coffin - but I am. I view it as a cross between Katharine Hepburn and someone who has smoked 4 packs a day for 20 years.

2.  If you say "poop" to our dog, his ears will perk up.  He doesn't really seem to know what it means, but for some reason that word really gets to him.  And makes us giggle.

3.  My cat is basically a mean two-year-old toddler who can jump 5 feet in the air.  The kind of toddler who cuts off her sister's hair for fun or holds the goldfish in her hand for 10 seconds outside its bowl.  This is her best description.

4.  There is nothing butterflies and a pink stuffed doggie can't beautify.

5.  People who annoy you will always somehow know, internally, when you are stressed out and have hit the moment before your bucket of water overflows.  They will then pour half a can of Sprite into that bucket of water to cause a deluge.   Perhaps the cat is also one of these people.

6.  Puppies smell like . . . puppies.  It's hard to quantify.  Even if you DON'T know what the smell of puppy is supposed to be, you will immediately, when faced with a cute bundle of furriness, know the smell and identify it as "puppy."

7.  Nothing is as sexy as a man holding said puppy that smells like puppy and cradling it with love.

Those are my discoveries.

Have you made any fun ones lately?

The problems with technology

So, I ran into a problem this evening. It's not a REAL problem, just a fussy, little, silly problem. The kind of problem people roll their eyes at and say "MUST be tough." But, here it is:

After fighting it for a year, I finally gave in and got a Kindle a few months ago. I am a bookworm. A lexiphanic (and using the term lexiphanic is my proof). I love reading. I have loved reading ever since I was a child and just devoured books. Luckily, my aunt worked at Scholastic, so I had all-you-can-eat buffets. I think there were years people didn't hear me speak or see anything but my forehead, bent over the pages.

I still love books - though I don't have as much time to read as I used to. The Kindle allows me more time to read. I bring it with me everywhere. I can use it at work and read the paper - or at least pretend I'm reading the paper. I can take it on trips with me and avoid paying the airline charge because of the 5 lbs of books in my suitcase. But, tonight, I discovered the one place my Kindle cannot go. The bathtub.

No worries, I didn't test this. It just seemed like common knowledge. Something I was tempted to try, but knew that the concern I already felt was the foreshadow of disaster.

Yet, it bothers me. I love to take baths at night with a book to relax. And while, yes, I can still pick up one of the paper versions that we still have all over our house, my Type-A personality fights the idea of starting another book while I'm still reading one on my Kindle. It creates disorder and confusion.

So, the end result of this was that I need to invent some type of Kindle-bathtub-protection kit. Something that allows you to see the page, change the page, but still protects it from the accidental slip of fingers into the steamy water.

Tonight, though, I quieted the Type-A voice screaming in my brain, and settled down with the newest sequel to one of my favorite childhood series, "Bunnicula." Somehow, talking dogs and juice-sucking bunnies managed to keep the order - and I returned to the Kindle after my bath.

You can now all breathe a sigh of relief.

Excuse me waiter, there's a turpitude in my drink.

In my job as a hired gun, I deal with a lot of legislation and statute. And, honestly, it’s usually terrifying to see legislation made (as they say, and I paraphrase, you never want to see the making of sausage or laws). But today I came across and interesting dilemma. The definition, or lack thereof, of moral turpitude. What exactly IS moral turpitude? It was not defined in this piece of legislation, so I am sent back to statute - which seems to show that moral turpitude depends completely on where you are in statute and your job. Now, I’m sure a lawyer out there would tell me this is something solved in case law, but I still find it fascinating. Which of course indicates the extent of my dorkiness.

Now, I completely understand that everyone has a different view of what is moral and immoral. But isn’t law supposed to be black and white and not necessarily left up to the observer? And shouldn’t what the state considers immoral behavior be the same for everyone?

Sorry for my random musings here. Just very glad there aren’t any morality requirements for lobbyists. We’d all be out of a job.

Superwoman

We've decided that I just might be a superhero. With useless powers. But a superhero nonetheless.

There are two reasons for this:

1. I heal frighteningly fast. In fact, I've had doctors just go on and on about how quickly I heal and they've never seen anything like it.

2. I have a frighteningly and annoyingly strong sense of smell. I'm the human version of a bloodhound.

While #2 sounds like very exciting and useful superpower (I could probably detect cheating husbands from the smell of perfume on them and know if there is a fire four floors up in someone's kitchen), it is actually a pain in the ass.

I can smell a smoker (without him actually smoking) from 10 feet away. And the smell of stale cigarette smoke gives me migraines. My car is currently STILL driving me crazy because last weekend Hubby brought pizza to his parents house. The pizza was in the car for 10 minutes. It did not get anywhere. I can still smell it. I may have to put a moratorium on food in the car.

The superpower also has the scary possibility of ruining my very happy marriage. As it seems to grow stronger, I have trouble eating next to my husband because the smell of the Tabasco he puts on EVERYTHING makes me nauseated. I have to leave the room if he eats any kind of fish - and, of course, he's one of the 4 humans in the world who LOVES canned herring.

So all of this leads me to wondering, what will happen when/if I am ever pregnant. Will I be able to leave the house? Or will I be forced to stay enclosed so that my superpower doesn't eat away at me and cause the insanity only known by superheros who have learned/heard/or, in my case, SMELLED too much?

The Truckstop Cupcake

So, I have always joked that I should put together a book of the best desserts in Denver. Because . . . well . . . I have eaten them all. So I think that is how I need to start this blog which I think will be a random mix of delicious desserts, cute puppies, strange stories, and really who knows what else?

To start off today, aside from the wonderful DQ blizzard with heath bar that I had today (in my defense, I was shopping with three pregnant women and they MADE me do it), I also had Steubens' chocolate cupcake. Steubens has this incredible slice of cake called the "Truckstop Chocolate Cake" which is just layers of chocolate cake mixed in with buttercream frosting. It's pure heaven. But it's huge. Little secret they don't often tell you, the cupcake is the SAME chocolate deliciousness, just in a smaller size.

If you are looking for a chocolate cake, you just can't do better than Steubens.

So, I have to admit I'm in a pickle because, as you can tell, I have a special passion for desserts. I think there is a little area in my stomach that is "dessert only." Hence, why there is always room for a sweet delight, even if I've eaten 3 lbs of food. The problem is that I'm also trying to lose weight.

I have solved this dilemma by eating about 1/4 of my meal in order to allow for true, non-guilt, enjoyment of anything that includes sugar, cream, and butter. Somehow, I don't think this is what the folks at Weight Watchers had in mind . . .