Entertainment vs Real Life

Until more movies start reflecting people and situations as I know them, I'm going to rant. There are two versions of life, apparently: the movie version and the real thing. How do they compare?

Scary movie vs Real life

• Movie: When night comes, everyone goes to their separate rooms. Reality: I'm not going anywhere by myself. If you are going to your room for the night, I am going with you. Matter of fact, I'll get there with you before your skin does.
• Movie: People do things quickly. The first idiot goes off to get killed within the first couple of minutes. Lead Guy and Lead Girl fall in love so fast it's insane. And when Lead Guy is in love, he's pretty quick to get chivalrous. "Stay here," he'll command when something happens - like a strange noise or something. Lead Girl is so in love, she usually obeys. Reality: Not me. I'll never be that in love. Stay here, my ass. Baby, if you so much as move one inch, I'll be so up on you, I'll become your proctologist.
• Movie: It's not just Lead Guy who wants to play the hero. There's always that one ballsy (or crazy) person who runs  off to investigate "that noise." Reality: I'm so nosy that I once fell through my boss's door trying to listen in, but I don't care so much for things that go bump or "screee..." Nah. I'm good. Unless not going means I'll be left alone. In that case, once again - me and your doctor...
• Movie: It takes a lot to happen before everyone is on board that there is a ghost or demon or something. It's usually not until after a lot of inanimate objects move on their own that folks seem to know something bad's going down. Got to be all hardheaded. Reality: When it comes to scary stuff, I'm Lionel Richie. All easy like Sunday morning. You let one door slam even one time. I'm leaving footprints across someone's back getting the hell out of there.
• Movie: Folks will play with a Ouija board or draw pentagrams, or whatever it takes, to "call up" things they have no damn business calling up. The idea is that they can control things. Reality: Not me, boo boo. The way I see it, if it died and came back, or it never lived but is trying to come around here, I want not a damn thing to do with it. I have a six word rule of thumb: "Leave it alone. Let it be." You can set that to music and sing away your troubles.

You let me even imagine I'm seeing something that looks like it came from "beyond" or whatever...

GIFSoup

Romance/RomComs vs RealRoms

• Movie: Guy meets Girl, there's a little bit of conflict, then there's a miraculous resolution. Guy and Girl either live happily ever after or, at the least, end up as really good friends. Reality: Guy and Girl meet. If he's not really crazy, stupid or walking around with the emotional maturity of a fetus, she is. There's rarely a resolution, but often a compromise, in which case they end up miserably connected for life or going through every trouble in the world to avoid seeing each other. (Okay - I went a little overboard on that one, but it's been a rough few years.)
• Movie: The sex is always phenomenal - for both parties - and the morning-after cuteness is never marred with breath that could light forest fires.  Reality: We all know that sex is often good and sometimes phenomenal but, I swear, good sex must create bad breathe. I have never in my life been able to roll over in the morning and say "Hello" in anything but sign language to someone who doesn't love me a whole lot. For anything else to happen, I'd first have go on a water-only fast and refuse to burp.
• Movie: The women always look great - no matter what the situation. The starring actress in, say, a romantic comedy, can survive a horrific physical mishap, a family tragedy, the loss of her job and every decent thing in her closet and she will still look: miserable-and-sexy, smudged-up-and-sexy, forlorn-and-sexy, sexy-and-sexy - or, at the very least, really cute and adorable in a goofy or quirky or "It Factor" kind of way.  Reality: The average and decent-looking woman living in this real world of ours can pull off sexy. I think we all have a sexy-ness inside. Some of us just require the right lighting, some really good foundation and the talents of the makeup girl at Nordstrom to pull it off right. I mean, I can be hella sexy, don't get it twisted. I just can't pull of my sexiest without a good night's sleep and at least one cup of morning coffee. Then I will sexy my ass off - and yours too.
• Movie: Men are always hot in some kind of way. If they aren't built like an Adonis, they are hot because they are so smart or have a drawl or an accent or they have perfected the kind of bad-boy sizzle that can make a gal's toes curl just by giving her a glance. There are men on some magazine's "Hottest" list who some of us would run screaming away from if their names hadn't been top-billed at a theater.  Reality: The guy trying to hit on you in the check-out line at Safeway can have all the drawl or accent they want or bad-boy sizzle there is. If we see them loading their bags onto a bicycle, they won't be feeling anything from us but an arctic chill. We woman can be such bitches in real life - not all cuddly and cute like a Meg Ryan at all. (Because she'd ride that bike with him and find out he has a Porsche parked at his summer home.)
• Movie: The mean mother or nosy sister or awkward friend always adds a little "flavor" to a couple's relationship. Not like in  Reality: where the lovers damn near end up on a TV court show because of the fist fight that broke out at the engagement party or something. I actually have a friend whose parents didn't know she was living with her boyfriend (for FIVE years) before the couple married. The woman's parents (especially her mother) were that awful. 

Cable TV Shows vs Real Life

• Series: Ugly Betty, Nip/Tuck, Desperate Housewives, Weeds Reality: First of all, how many "regular" folk have that much money, that much sex, raise kids that badly and live life with such carelessness? I mean, the world is pretty messed up, but not (yet) that freaking apocalyptic... 

And, don't bring up the so-called "Reality" TV shows. Most of the Real Housewives aren't (or never stay) married. I'd rant more, but the only reality shows I watch are about women in Atlanta and Orange County who are supposed to be classy, fabulous and rich. Most of them dress like poorly paid hookers, trade friendships like Pokemon cards and rent their homes. Yeah, fabulous. But at least they are entertaining. So far.

Peace

--Free

All a Woman Wants

It's been said that all a woman wants is everything. Okay, it was most likely a man that said that, but... Come on, ladies, you know it's sorta true. The reason it's so hard for men to understand us is because we are still trying to figure it all out for ourselves.

Let me stop right here and say that, Number One: you might be offended by the rest of this post. Number Two: I don't care. My blog, my thoughts.

If we are talking about clothes, a woman wants garments that make her look more or less thin, thick, tall, approachable, whorish or lady-like. I am with the fellows who get mad at the woman who dresses with her tits falling out of her blouse then wants to blast out anybody who happens to stare at her chest for more than five seconds. (I'm hetero, but, if I was gay, I think I'd be into boobs. If I see a woman with her boobs on display, I can't help but stare like a nursing infant.)

If we are talking about work vs family, a woman wants to be multiple people. She wants to be the wife running the marriage, the mom there for every game and PTA meeting. She wants to be the on-the-go executive on the fast-track to the next promotion. She wants to be in demand yet free, on the move yet rested.

If we are talking about identities, a woman wants to be romanced like a Jezebel but cared for like a a treasure. She wants someone to cherish her but not go easy on her, make her feel safe but not bored. She wants that "bad boy" who will treat her like a nice guy would. She says money doesn't matter but she hates paying for everything. She says a pearls are a nice as diamonds but she's not jealous of anyone's pearls. She wants a man she can "run," but she doesn't respect that kind of guy. She wants friends she can talk to, but she doesn't want them "all up in her business." She wants to be understood, but she doesn't want to open her heart.

If we are talking about just living life, she talks a healthy game but dreams in technicolor sin. She is a black woman who wants bone straight hair and blue eyes, or a white woman who wants the deepest tan and a curvier butt. She wants what she thinks you want but she doesn't understand that you are just the mirror of her.

Got that?

All a woman wants is everything - until she learns to be happy with who she is and what she has within herself.

So if there is a woman in your life you want to make happy, here is what you can do to help:

• Let her be okay with who she is.
• Love her the way she is at this moment and who she will be in the next moment.
• Give her room to make mistakes and when she pulls away from you a little, let her. 
• If she is fat or skinny or tall or short, with hair that's straight or nappy, either love her body completely or leave her heart alone.
• If she is one of those "strong" women, let her reserve the right to be a little weak sometimes.
• When you do find her weakness, try to understand it without exploiting it.
• Let her "sexy" be whatever her sexy is (and her sexy might not be what's on a magazine cover or in a popular movie or song).
• Let her see you for who and what you really are. A front is nice for the "front porch" of a relationship. If you want to get behind doors with her, then get all the way behind those doors.
• If you are going to be her lover, also be her friend. If you are going to be her friend, also be someone she can trust completely. If you are going to break her heart, do it sooner rather than later.

Woman are like secrets within secrets within secrets. We play games - not to hurt anyone but to keep from getting hurt. Any woman you meet today can be someone you only want her to be - or who she really is. How far into her heart you get is up to you.

Male or female, all any of us want is everything, but my everything is not your everything.

Now, that's the end of my little rant for the day. (Don't know why I feel like I should have been reading all that into a microphone with some jazz playing in the background.)

Peace

--Free

Thankful to be an Ingrate

With Thanksgiving coming up, I've been thinking more about all I have to be thankful for. (First, I had to climb down off my pity-pot.) God and I had a little falling out when my family was hit by a string of tragedies. Thing is, whenever I "fall out" with God, I fall right into a mess and He's always right there to catch me.

One of the main things I am thankful for is that I am still here to be such a freaking ingrate. And, believe this: when I set my mind to it, I can be the queen of all that is selfish and mean. (Just ask anybody who has known me for more than ten minutes.) So, I guess I am thankful that I have folks who love me enough to put up with me. I'm definitely thankful to still be around to be a pain in their backsides!

Another thing I am thankful for is just waking up every morning healthier than I was a while back. As old folks are fond of saying: "A lot of us didn't wake up this morning."

I woke up and got another day older. Ha! One thing about getting older (and by "older", I mean old enough, not old as dirt) is that you do start actually reading obituary notices when you pick up a newspaper. I used to accidentally catch sight of a notice and pay no attention at all except to be upset that someone, anyone had died. These days, I sometimes check the news only for the obits.

It's a thought-stirring thing to realize that a lot of the people in the obits are very close to my age. Or that they look a lot like people I could have gone to school with or worked alongside... I want to go back to the days when the ages given in obituaries were up there in the late 80's and 90's.  That's the way it seemed to have been when I was younger.    Or maybe it was that ages like 50- and 60-something seemed as old to me as 80 and 90.

Another thing I am thankful for is that I have survived every single thing that I thought was going to be the end of me. You all know what I mean. We have things happen that, at the time, seem like they are going to just destroy us: lost friendships, broken romances, finances that went out of control. When you go through some things, you (or at least I) just feel like you can't bear another ounce of weight on your soul. Then, somehow, you manage to get through one moment of the agony, and then another moment and another. And... you have survived it. What's the saying about living to fight another day? Well.

Mostly, I'm super-thankful that I am getting to watch that nephew of mine as he goes from baby to toddler to whatever kind of kid he's going to be. He is truly a wonder to me. He doesn't know it and I'll probably forget to tell him when he's older, but he has been such a light for me when I felt like I was lost in the shadows of fear and depression.  Looking at a child will do that for you. It reminds me that God made us all that pure and innocent.

There are a bunch of other (and some truly shallow) additions to my list of thanks:

• I'm not nearly as chunky as I was last year. I am on the verge of convincing myself I might be a little "hot" again.
• I can wear heels again. Not skinny heels (or super high heels) and I can't run in them (or even break into one of those cute, hip-swaying trots), but I can teeter around without walking into walls. 

GIFSoup

• My hair, while still way shorter than I originally wanted, is getting thicker. I can do things with it if I wasn't way too lazy to. At least I can wear this TWA and make it work for me.
• I still have my sense of humor (even though I sometimes use it to be not-so-nice).
• I'm smoke-free.
• I'm prednisone-free.

So, yeah, I've got a huge list of stuff to be thankful for. I won't even spoil this post by adding my the things I wish could be on this list. 

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I've gotten addicted to Gifsoup, if you hadn't noticed.

I'm One of THOSE Ex-Smokers

I always swore that I'd never be one of those sanctimonious former smokers. So far, I have been pretty good about how I treat and act toward people who (still) smoke. That is, for the most part.

The other day, my doctor's assistant called in a bit of a huff. Apparently, when I checked on my insurance change-over at the pharmacy, they re-ordered all my 'scripts. They are pretty helpful like that (I think because they think I'm a little slower than I actually am), but they called in a RX for an expired Chantix. My niece picked up the meds but I just left them at her house. Still, I'm pretty sure my doctor was telepathically kicking my ass since I am taking estrogen now.

When I told my friend, she asked if she could have the Chantix.  First of all, I don't give out my meds. Second of all, this chick could get those pills any time she wants. She doesn't want a thing to do with quitting smoking. She was just trying to mess with my head. Her doc had prescribed her some months ago. I think she took them like she takes her vitamins - when she feels in need of one. Idiot. I wasn't as bitchy about it as I could have been; it was easier (and nicer) to just say that my niece tossed the meds. I don't know who was more relieved: my friend or- No, it was her.

The very next day - I mean, less than 24 hours later - this chick asked if I could pick her up a couple packs of cigarettes while I was out. Her car is in the shop for a couple of days and I know what it's like to be without a ready ride. Hell, I know what it's like to be a smoker and out of cigarettes. Still, I think it's rude for her to ask me to pick up cigarettes for her. Why not ask an alcoholic to stop by the liquor store for you? It's rude. And I am actually okay with being around cigarettes and smokers - that's not my point. What bothers me is that, in this case, with this friend, I had to beat my nicotine habit while she smoked around me. After I did beat my habit, I had to get an air purifier for my room so that I don't get all of her smoke and stink and ick second-hand. The only time this girl isn't puffing is when she is in my car. She smokes so much, she won't even pick a brand. She smoked three different kinds of cigarettes - King or 100's, Full Flavor or Light, Menthol or Regular - all at the same time. She keeps at least three open packs around her at all times!

~deep breath~

Anyway, when she managed to fix her lips to ask that I go and buy her cigarettes, I fixed my lips to tell her to kiss my not-as-fat-as-it-used-to-be ass. I didn't actually tell her to do that, but I did fix my lips to tell her. Then I had a visit from that little cartoon figure of my conscience. (It was a little pencil-drawn me puffing on a cigarette.) My cartoon-me told me not to be a bitch. She reminded me of what I used to feel like when I wanted a cigarette and couldn't get to one. She told me that being mean to my friend was not going to keep her from smoking.

GIFSoup

I listened to cartoon-me and ended up giving my friend a lift to buy her own cigarettes. That was the nice part of real-me. (The bitch part of me knew that my friend couldn't wait to light up the minute we got back home so I made a few stops for errands along the way. She almost slid down getting out of that car when we got to the apartment.)

At any rate, this has all reminded me that I really don't want to be one of those ex-smokers. I don't want to act like I never had a killer habit for nicotine. I don't want to pretend that there wasn't a time I would've probably turned a couple of tricks for a pack of cigarettes if I'd had to. You think I'm kidding? Ask a smoker what's the most they would do for a cigarette - but ask them when they are out of smokes and don't have another pack on hand.

While I don't want to be that kind of an ex-smoker, I sure am glad to be any kind of an ex-smoker.

Peace
--Free

**REVIEW** Lancome DreamTone (end of wk 1)

This is my 7th day using and reviewing Lancome's DreamTone*.

I apologize right now for the poor quality pics. My webcam is either not the best or I just don't know how to adjust the thing. I can say that, for the most part, the pics are not that far off from what I saw in the mirror, just a little bit blurry.

Washed. No products applied.

One of  my guy friends says this is his favorite look for me. I can get this look with my regular serum and no moisturizer. A female friends says my skin looks a little too dry at this stage. ~shrug~

###

Moisturized & w/DreamTone applied.

My 2 friends and I agree that while my skin feels amazing at this point, it's a lot shinier than it needs to be. (My cam contrast creates only some of that nose shine. In the mirror it was almost as linding. I seriously could have been guiding reindeer traffic.

###

No foundation. Eyeliner and lipstick only.

(Freaking stoopid, cheap camera!) This really is not a great rep of what the mirror shows. My skin is not nearly as shiny (because I did blot with a clean face sponge) and you just cannot tell how wonderful my face feels. Now, there is not a thing I can do about my doublechin (except lay off the Ben & Jerry's), but I do love what the DreamTone Serum is doing for my face so far. I hate that you can't see the small spots without my posting this horrible photo from my phone cam:

Still not great with my phone cam, but these are the little spots I want rid of...

I don't wear foundation except for those occasions when I'm trying hard to be supercute, so you might not think I am a good judge of this product. Wrong. For one thing, my skin is over 50 years old. I can't get away with the no-foundation thing like I used to. I haven't been scaring off small animals without it, but I don't have that same natural glow that I did in my twenties and thirties.

The bottom-line so far:  After a week of the DreamTone, I don't think I'm getting a lot of visible results yet, but I can tell a huge difference in the way my skin feels with the DreamTone on. Without the DreamTone (after rinsing and in-between applications), I notice that my skin feels smoother, but gets a little drier than usual overnight. Usually, I can moisturize once in the morning and that will get me through the day. Sometimes, I don't have to use my regular products to moisturize my face before bed. The last few days, I've been making sure to moisturize pretty heavily under the DreamTone and most definitely before bed.

So far, I can say that I am pleased with the product. At this point, I would still recommend it for friends. Can't wait to see how the next few weeks go.

Peace
--Free

* Disclaimer: I received my Lancome DreamTone product from Lancome free of charge via SheSpeaks. 

Watching Folks, Watching Life

I am sitting here at Starbucks, drinking the cheapest serving of coffee to pay for my seat and wifi access. The library is off limits to me today. I never go to the library when I'm sure someone there is going to piss me off.

So, here at Starbucks, I am doing some serious people-watching. I hadn't intended to, but then I saw this guy come in who caught my attention and got me started. Just a gorgeous young man, but in that weird way that some people have. He is dressed like he has a job in a bank behind a desk, but he's got purple highlights in his hair, and he's wearing lipstick. His lips are amazing. (If I was a man and had lips like that, I'd wear lipstick too.) And he's wearing black nail polish. Damn, he is cute. Very hetero-acting, which is a turn-on because of the makeup. And he's so confident. This man should be on a magazine cover or red carpet, or in my bed tonight. Except he's about 25 years younger than me. I'd probably end up in the E.R. It might be worth it.

~sigh~

Then there is the dude sitting over in the opposite corner of the room. Very strange-looking. He's either a visibly tortured artist or a budding serial-killer. He just has that look: sorta-crazy-but-sorta-brilliant. He's writing in a ratty little memo book with a broken-off pencil. He's being really intense. He caught me looking at him a second ago and he started biting his bottom lip. Damnnn! That was kind of sexy until I realized that Ted Bundy was pretty hot too.

If I were a fairy godmother, I'd wave my wand and hook up the hot guy with the nail polish with the cute server with the ponytail. (She's cute in a very clean and honest-looking way. She looks like someone who has a great personality without trying to channel any pop culture idols.)  I'd hook crazy guy up with myself if I also had a weapon just in case he's dangerous, but, without knowing, I'd like to see him with this one lady who is being very self-consciously fashionable. She's pretty hot-looking, but she's way too aware of herself. I like her Chanel bag but you can tell she wants everyone to notice that it is a Chanel bag. Her coat is probably designer too. It hangs really well and it's one of those items that looks very plain and expensive and probably didn't come from Burlington but from a store with the designer's name on the door. Bitch. (See what I'm doing here? Giving her a hot-looking, sexy guy but only because he might be a felony about to happen.)

Oh shit! Hot guy - lipstick-hot, not crazy-hot - just passed my table and smiled at me. He's got a cleft chin. Cleft chins are my weakness... I sure hope that God made him in multiple (older) models and I get a chance to run into one someday.

Chanel girl has friends joining her. One of them is the local version of Iman. I'd swear this chick was a model if she weren't about ten inches too short. She's got every beautiful feature women want: high cheekbones, wide eyes, perfect teeth and good boobs. She's wearing a sweater, but I can tell that her boobs probably sit up good even without a bra. Bitch. She's a black woman so I am double-triple jealous. (If my baby with his cleft chin even looks her way, I'm going to hire crazy-man to hit on her.)

This might be the first post where you guys get to see just how my head works. Of course, I'm not all-sane - that would be no fun at all. But if you live here in Anchorage and ever hang out at Starbucks, I might get a chance to blog about you. Now, since I'm not buying a six-dollar sandwich and I'm too full of liquid, I'm going to pack up and go elsewhere to people-watch.

Peace
--Free

**REVIEW** Lancome DreamTone. It's About to Get Pretty Around Here!

My SheSpeaks campaign for Lancome's DreamTone Customized Skin Tone Correcting Serum starts right now. I received my complimentary package of product in the mail today and I just went into the bathroom and baby-wiped my face clean to put some on.

It feels really good. It has a really faint color (and I am using the tone for "Dark" skin), no odor and a very, very creamy texture that just sort of wisps onto the skin. I can't even tell you how cool the product is packaged. There's no top to pop off and get lost. You simply twist to raise and expose the dispensing nozzle. Because I was entertained by the idea, I spent at least two minutes just twisting the bottle opened and closed. Judge me if you want.

And now... I'm taking a big breath here because I have to be brave and expose this freaking "Before" pic for you:

Maybe I will have a cute hairstyle by the 30th.

Yeah, I'm very self-conscious about being photographed. It was just me and my lonely in the bathroom mirror but I got nervous when I heard the dog whining outside the door.

Now I have to use the product for 4 weeks. I will be back here with an "After" pic and the final review on the 30th.

(I will be tweeting any reveiw updates via Twitter. Check other users talk under the #bareselfie movement and #DreamTone.)

Peace
--Free

5 Annoying Habits of Certain Websites

Sometimes I think of websites as having personalities, like potential friends who'd be perfect but for that one little thing... Of course, we don't exclude people from our lives because of a couple of flaws (because people, people need people), but we do get to bitch about it:

1. You are attached at the hip to that person I really just cannot stand. This is from those sites that still refuse to let you choose whether or not you want to Facebook. I would like to erase the presence of Facebook from my life. Really, I would, but on a couple of sites (hi there, She Speaks and Bzz Agent) insist that if I want to get full benefit of their time, I'd better have a FB account. It's not gonna happen. Too bad that I might miss out scoring as many points as the subscriber who is still in love with FB. Just. Too. Bad.
2. You ignore the new kid on the block - just because they are different. Even though G+ is a way more varied and grown-up network, some of you sites just have not clued in yet. G+ is that funky new sound that hasn't been watered down enough for heavy airplay. I guess.
3. You won't let me come over and play with you unless I agree to swap blood with you. Ick. I'm talking about you, Zulilly's. I don't know why you think I'd want to agree to give you my contact information just to get to know you. I mean, what if I don't like you after I glance around your house? 
4. You are that freaking embarrassing and loud-assed friend who starts shouting the minute I walk up to you. There are too many sites guilty of blasting audio-ads or entertainment news the second the page loads. I damn near got kicked out of the library once because I forgot to shut off the volume and treated the whole fourth third floor of Loussac to a shrieking ad for freaking "Poo-pourri." I was just trying to read a news article. Talk about needing poop deodorant. Pretty near shit myself.
5. You are that friend who whips out a slideshow for every story about your kid, your dog, your job... I mean, I am interested in what you have to say, but do you have do do it one picture at a time? (Take a cue from Cracked. I don't care what you think of me for being in love with Cracked.com. They at least give you the choice between "article view" or torture by a slow connection.)

The number 5 looked best in the title of this post, but I have another peeve with one (or two?) of my favorite sites of all: Twitter and YouTube. If you try to tweet a video from YouTube, you get that irritating stalker box trying to force you to "Follow" a couple of their accounts. I can't remember which ones because I Followed both just to get rid of the irritation! Damn. (I just tweeted "I Can't Make You Love Me" to vent at them. Because I'm so mature.)

Peace

--Free

Skincare Gone to Seed

My skin feels so amazing right now, and it smells delicious. Downright edible.

And you'd think that would be a good thing, right? Well...

A friend who knows what a fanatic I am about taking care of my skin read my recent post about using oils to moisturize. She was pretty excited to tell me about an oil I've never used before: Sesame Seed Oil. Not only is this stuff supposed to be good for the skin and hair but, apparently, it's got benefits I hadn't known about.

When I ran out to do my grocery shopping earlier today, I saw a bottle of the oil at Walmart. The price wasn't bad so I picked up a bottle. We don't have our snow yet and the rainy weather has been great for my skin and hair, but I decided to give myself a rubdown with the oil while watching "Scandal" on Hulu. 

The oil's smell was strong right off. ~shrug~ Coconut and Olive oils have specific odors, but they are fairly mild and they can be masked with a light perfume. Not so for the Sesame oil. When I told you my skin feels amazing, that is no lie. When I told you it smells edible, that is no lie. I smell like an order of Almond Chicken. I love my Chinese food (Hi, Golden Gate!), but I don't want to smell like my dinner.

Ohmigoodheavens, there is no masking this odor. If I add another scent to my body right now, I'll smell like a Chinese-French hors d'oeuvre. 

So...

I call up my friend and tell her how I just couldn't wait to try out the oil as a moisturizer, but ended up smelling like food. She had the nerve to catch a little attitude. "You got the wrong kind, you dumbass." (Because she said it with love, it's okay that she called me a dumbass. We are friends close enough that "bitch" really is a term of endearment. I guess. Bitch.)

Turns out I was supposed to get a particular kind of sesame oil - raw. 

Oh, well. I will keep this little bottle for cooking with. Next time I'm out, I will check out prices for the raw sesame oil. If it makes my skin feel as good as this "toasted" version, I will be a happy gal. 

I will mention now that, unless its being toasted has something to do with the intensity, I won't be able to use the oil on my face. There is a feeling of warmth that the oil gave my skin, which was fine - actually, it felt invigorating - for my torso, but my face felt too sensitive to it. You better bet I'll be careful not to let it leak onto any other body parts that might be, um, sacred.

So, I'll get back to you about the raw sesame oil when I try it. In the meantime, compared to coconut and olive oils, I want to say it made my skin feel a little more nourished. I will think of it as a "night oil" and use the others for less intensive or "day treatments." Also, coconut and olive oils weren't irritating to even the most sensitive parts of the body and are fine (for me) as, um "personal lubricants." This sesame oil? That's getting nowhere past the panty-line, I can tell you that!

Recap: I guess you can use sesame oil for its health benefits (and here), skin and hair benefits and, if you are into it, Ayurvedic beauty treatments. Here's an article on toasted vs raw. I should have done more research before just grabbing a bottle!

Peace

--Free

**REVIEW**: Insta Bulb

The Insta Bulb.

I should be called an  Insta Idiot for buying this since it was a complete Insta Waste of Money. And why did I even buy this thing in the first place? Well, my roommate has an adorable dog. Paddy is a Lhasa Apso. Our perfect little sentinel pup (who happens to be afraid of the dark). We love the little critter so we leave the stovehood light on for him at night. I can see the light seep in underneath my bedroom door. I hate that. I like to sleep in complete darkness and, well, with the Insta Bulb, I get my wish, but the dog is gonna need therapy.

Usually, when I make a dud purchase, I can soothe myself with at least a few "Pros" about the product. Not this time. I can only think of a single good thing to say about Insta Bulb: it's not horrible-looking. That's it. Matter of fact, let me clear my throat and lay out the whole truth of my experience:

• It provides less light than an just blown out match.
• It doesn't adhere well to anything. (Okay, it did stick to a wood surface - until I pulled on the string to turn on the "light." I have to hold the mounting while pulling the string so I don't get clunked in the face by the fallout*.)
• It should not be allowed to call itself "light" or any word that indicates eliminating darkness.

Oh! Wait, wait - I found another Pro: Since it doesn't stick well to anything, I can snatch that bitch down and toss it! I was hesitant to even write this review because I'm ashamed to admit I bought the product.

I'm going to return this thing to the store - if they will take it. If I was them, I wouldn't.

If you think I'm kidding, here are the photos:

Kitchen overhead & Stovehood lights on. Insta Bulb on.

Overhead & Stovehood lights on. Insta Bulb off.

Overhead off. Stovehood light on. Insta Bulb on.

Notice that I left the stovehood light on. That's because I didn't want to be in this kind of darkness to take the photo:

THIS is with only the Insta Bulb on. Paddy almost lost his mind.

* The mounting  did hold a little bit better when I stood and mashed against it for a good full minute after mounting. (I don't have time for that & it's not what I expected to have to do.)

Peace

--Free

My Mama's Music

When I was watching "Only the Strong Survive" on Netflix the other night, something disturbed me a little. (No. It disturbed me a lot.) My mother and father loved so much of the music the film featured. When I actually paid attention to the lyrics of "The Night Time is the Right Time" and "Midnight Hour," I wanted to wash my brain.

Parts of "Right Time" made me smile with the memories of the good, sweet love my parents had for each other (only it was Mama who cried when my Daddy passed away). I can remember my parents sharing a smile or glance while listening to their favorites songs. But there were parts of the song that was just too much for me.

When I come home, baby, now
I wanna be with the one I love, now
You know what I'm thinking of.

Yeah. I know, and I wish I didn't.

 ~washing my brain, washing my brain~

It gets worse with "Midnight Hour":

I'm gonna wait til the midnight hour
That's when my love comes tumbling down
I'm gonna wait til the midnight hour
When there's no one else around
I'm gonna take you girl and hold you
And do all the things I told you in the midnight hour
Yes I am, yes I am
One more thing I just wanna say right here

You've said quite enough, Mister Pickett.

Yeah. So. I'm going to lay off the old love songs for a while. I just can't take thinking of my parents in that way. Grown ass woman that I am, I want to think that I was the product of something very mysterious and platonic. That's kind of hard to do when I have 5 siblings.

Oh, mommy...

#I'mNEVERGoingToGrowUp

Peace
--Free

When Life Hacks Get it Twisted

I love those "Life Hacks," but, sometimes, the best thing I get from them is a good laugh. Some things (in my life anyway) are just un-hackable. Maybe certain areas of my life are just not to be tamed. Here are a few hacks that I've run across that don't work so well for me:

Hack: Beating your phone addiction. My Life: Too late. I need a serious intervention.

I'm advised that instead of checking my phone first thing in the morning, I should spend my time "organizing my thoughts." Yeah. Okay. That would be great - if I didn't need my phone to wake up in the first place. I not only use my phone as a morning alarm, I sometimes use it as a noise machine for getting to sleep in the first place. (I love my phone so much that, if it had warm toes, I'd snuggle with it.) Once I do get up and think I might be able to function, I need my phone to outline my day. I even use this app (sometimes) so that I have something talking to me. (My phone is the only thing that wants to have a conversation with me before I've had coffee.) A few more years of becoming any more dependent on our phones, I imagine some of us will forget to breathe without Siri or her boyfriend reminding us. (By the way, is it sad that I've been thinking of naming my phone? Some days, I think of her as "Lou." Some days, I just call her "unresponsive bitch.")

Hack: Having "organizing stations" around our home. My Life: If I was that organized, I wouldn't need this.

This hack made me actually stop reading to roll my eyes. First off, there are 11 of these suggested stations. Eleven! Come on now. With my illness, I have the attention span of a toddler. I read the first one and started skimming the rest. Here are the listed stations: Mail/Correspondence, Wardrobe, Fix-it, Cleaning House, Gift Wrap, Charging, Bag Drop, Child's School, Recycling, Car Travel, Health/Wellness.

Well, damn. I had to rest after just going through the list. Talk about needing a Health/Wellness station... Actually, I have every one of those so-called "stations." They just aren't exactly organized. I even have a Child's School station (and no kids). That's for all the coloring books and pieces of crafts I collected when I was recuperating and learning to talk again in complete sentences. Some of the stations are just crazy. (A sister-in-law of mine did once have a Gift Wrap room, but she had a 20,000 square foot house. I guess she needed to do something with a good hunk of it to keep me from moving in.) I didn't even check to see what a Bag Drop station is. Unless it's where I keep my big Bed, Bath & Beyond bag of Walmart and Target bags... ~shrug~ What the hell ever.

Hack: Motivation to show up at work. My Life: I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.

Right now, there are days I dream of getting back to work. This whole idle lifestyle is the pits when you are too broke to turn idle time into fun. When I was working, I had all the motivation I needed: house note, car payment, $200 a month shopping habit and, oh yeah - mouths to feed. When I first saw this hack, I instantly remembered my mother and what she would say when I'd complain about my job: "You better get your happy ass up and get to that office. Hungry trumps tired any day." (I laughed so hard, I got a cramp. I really miss my mother!)

By the way, I actually did get a great tip from this hack. I will now be using the "Hemingway Technique" when it comes to writing.

Since I get a daily email feed of hacks, I could go on and on, but you get my point. You can hack some things, but life is, after all, life. Part of the adventure is to live it raw. Of course, I will take help where it helps.

Peace
--Free

***COMING SOON*** Review of Lancome Dream Tone!

Heads up, ladies.

The other day, I was moaning about the lack of program invites from She Speaks. Well, a big one has come up.

Lancome has this product that I am now SO anxious to try out & tell you about. It's their brand new "DreamTone Customized Skin Tone Correcting Serum." The product comes is available for "Fair," "Medium," and "Dark" tones. Guess which one HRD (Her Royal Dark-n-Lovely) will be trying. (Let's just hope that "Dark" means more Naomi Campbell and less Queen Latifah!)

In the past, I've tried (and reviewed) BB creams, but this sounds like a different type of product and it might be reaching a little higher as far as "correcting" serums. I am pretty happy with my skin, but, like almost any other woman, I can relate to the areas this product is supposed to work on: dark spots, uneven skin tone and color imperfections.

I will be blogging about the product once I've received it. I was really intrigued by the photos of the women on the product website. I've decided that, when I go get the product, I am going to take more than one "Before" pic to post here, then I will try to get a photo every week or so. That way, you will be able to get a good idea of the effects. (And you guys know how I hate having my photograph taken, so I'm going all out this time!)

You guys know that I'm pretty outspoken when it comes to reviewing products, so...

Keep watching for the product arrival. In the meantime, visit the SheSpeaks site and on Twitter. Here's Lancome on Twitter and on (ugh!) Facebook.

You can also check Twitter for folks who've tried the product by checking Twitter for the bareselfie movement for #DreamTone (or go here)

Fellow bloggers - SheSpeaks wants to hear from you. Join up (and be sure to tell them who sent you!) to start giving your opinion.

Peace
--Free

If the Shoe Fits, Get It!

I mentioned in the last post that I had a shoe story coming. Yep.

For a gift a couple weeks ago I got some of the cutest  boots ever. Just too cute. See?

Bad pic. The boots are not gold, but dark tan.

Problem is, the heels are about 4 1/2 inches high and I felt like I was drunk and on stilts. I could walk in them but only if I kept shooting my arms out for balance and wasn't required to move in anything like a straight line. On the plus side, my sister had the best laugh she's had since our recent family tragedy. She laughed so hard I thought she was going to vomit. I admit I was a little comical, but didn't think I was all that funny.

Those gorgeous boots went back to Burlington. Since I felt bad having to return a gift, I decided to do an exchange. I mean, it is winter now and I do need boots, right? This way, I was spending no money of my own. Thing is, I can no longer get away with wearing just any kind of footwear. Back in the day, I could cram my feet into any kind of shoe or boot and strut my butt off. I hit 45 and my feet got all snobby about what's comfortable. Then, at 50, Sarc hit me and my whole body got an attitude. Until a few months ago, I got nervous if the soles on my tennis shoes were too thick. Currently, I need something made well and most likely not of man-made materials.  I can finally do heels again - if they aren't outrageous.

Just like the man I want: warm, cute, safe.

I have no idea why classic looks don't stay in fashion for the average consumer. So many of the shoes and boots I saw at the stores around my town looked like they belonged in specialty catalogs for someone dancing off a pole or just trying to spice up their sex life - or maybe just for folks with really awful tastes. And with no fear of heights. This is Anchorage. In Alaska.  We have a lot of ice and snow for most of the year. I'm not really out to impress anyone but myself. I saw too many styles that made no sense at this point in my life.

Cute, cute, cute. But insane!

"You better work, girl."

Where's the rest of it???

"Then I'm going to tie you up..."

I look at some of those shoes and wish I'd lived a little faster when I was younger! Hah.

Guess what? Most shoes, cheap, mid- or high-priced, are made of materials labeled as "man-made," plastic/pvc or "faux-" something. I went through both Burlington stores before I found 3 pairs of boots that qualified as leather, well-made, and (in my book) cute. I even had to put back a super-sweet pair of designer-named boots because I saw that, despite the steep price, the man-made label kicked them off my list. Damn.

I ended up with... Vera Wang, baby. On sale for less than the shoes I got as a gift. Score. And, seriously, it matters not too much to me that the boots are by V.W.; I just love that they are leather, cute and comfy. Triple score. The label does indicate good quality. I like that. The ones I got are called "Emmanuel" and very similar to these, except the top buckle is higher up on mine. Sturdy, cute and very durable.

No matter who's on the label, these are Alaska-worthy.

Anyway, since I came out a little ahead of the game (and I had a little PFD left from bills), I went ahead and gifted myself with this pair of Fergie boots. I'm now officially a fan of the footwear line. So damn cute that when I'm strutting around in them, I forget I still have over 20 pounds to lose! Except for one thing, I actually like them better than the V.W.s

"Giddy-up" +J.D. Hughes & Marla would be proud!

Freaking cute!

Of course, that's not the end of this story. (This is me we're talking about.) Girl met boots and they fell in love, but didn't exactly live happily ever after.

My Fergies and I needed a little post-purchase adjustment period. Literally. I fell instantly in love with these boots, but the store only had one pair left. In size 7 1/2. I used to fit that size. Back before my freaking "growth spurt." I'm not sure if I am a full size 8 or not, but I had to shoe-horn the hell out of the Fergies until I could walk without pimping, crimping and making all kinds of crazy faces. It's all good now.

By the way, just in case you didn't know, there are ways to get a tight pair of (leather) shoes/boots to fit better:

• With a couple pairs of socks on each foot, cram into the footwear and run warm dryer over the tight area while wriggling your foot around. (I could barely get my bare foot in my boots, so I crammed in some old towels instead.)
• Stuff the footwear with damp towels or paper and let sit overnight. (I didn't want to use this method because I was afraid of my lighter-colored leather being affected. I suppose you can just work with dry materials and let sit for a couple days.)
• Use a shoe-horn to gradually stretch out the footwear. When you can wear the shoes or boots without being in too much pain, walk around the house in them until you break them in.

Such a pain in the butt, huh? I don't care. I kept the other couple pairs of shoes and boots I own and just pretty much tossed out my other old  dressier type footwear. I'm going to be wearing the soles off the few pairs of shoes and boots I still own. Quality is still preferable to quantity.

Peace

--Free

Help Yourself (to Exercise)

If I have to find something positive in being disabled and temporarily unemployed, I can say that I have time to learn things and improve myself. (Actually, I keep busy just so I don't lose what's left of my mind.)

The focus of my latest self-help project has to do with regaining my balance. The effects of the steroids I was on for so long were easy to combat. Eating right and staying really active is helping get me back to my "usual" shape and size. What the neuro-sarc has done to my balance and flexibility is a whole other battle I have to get through.

The exercise I do for my figure is helping a little with flexibility but not as much as I'd like and it's done nothing for my balance issues. I'm not sliding down stairs or walking face-first into walls like when I first got sick, but I've become chronically clumsy. I had to return a gift of a super-cute pair of boots because the heels were too high and thin. (I did manage to get an equally cute pair with heels not as high and a little thicker. There's a story that'll make you smile.) For now, though, I wanted to share some pages I ran across online - whether you want to lose weight, tone up or have better balance or whatever.

I came across a video teaching basic Yoga moves for "beginners." Couple problems there. For one thing, I'm wary of messing with Yoga because of my religious beliefs*. Even if the religious aspect didn't bother me, one thing did: the woman showing the poses obviously had bones made of some alien substance. There is no way on this planet I'd ever get my body to move like hers. "Beginner." My ass. For those of you with gristle in place of solid bone, knock yourselves out. Really, go right ahead.

Yoga, Pilates, Zumba. It all seems so intense. I'm looking for something I can do without hurting myself or someone else. So... I decided to check out something more specifically designed for someone with my problems.

These stretches seem good for helping to increase my flexibility. Nothing too complicated for me even though I got a cramp looking at that first slide. "Stretching safely," is what it says, but I almost knocked over my dresser when I fell over trying to get my leg in that position. Guess that's why the dude in the pic is leaning on the treadmill for support. Pro: slides are courtesy the Mayo Clinic. Con: no way to view all slides on one page. Hate that. (Be sure to check out the other links on the page for more exercises.)

I really like the idea of the balance exercises. That is just what my klutzy butt needs. (Not too harp on it, but I'm so awkward that my not-yet-2-year-old nephew is steadier on his feet.) My goal is to work my way up to running on a treadmill at the gym without hanging on for dear life. It's really embarrassing. Pro: once again - Mayo Clinic! Con: I couldn't stop giggling at the slides. In #1, the dude looks like he's seducing a crowd of gullible followers. In #2, old boy looks like he's learning or teaching the Electric Slide.

My favorite form of exercise is something anyone can do. Some of us do it badly, but, hey. I'm talking about dancing. You don't have to follow any special moves or rules or anything (except maybe not doing it in the nude in public).

I think one of the reasons I was able to get back into most of my (almost) skinny clothes is because I dance all the time. Am I a great dancer? Yep. In my head, I make Beyonce look like Jerry Lewis. Actually, I'm not a bad dancer, but I am too shy to really let loose in public. But around the house... Boy, let me tell you, I can move. I can't help it. If I hear music, I have to move to it. So, if you don't get any other kind of exercise, turn off the TV (a benefit right there) and get the music going. While you're cooking, cleaning, washing clothes or just wasting time on the internet.

Whatever you do, just move. Move while you can move, dance while you can dance. There are so many people who can't walk, move or dance at all. Celebrate your ability.

Peace
--Free

Word of (Sour) Mouth

A looong while back, I told you all about some of the word of mouth marketing programs I like(d). Two of them were my favorites: She Speaks and Vocalpoint. (It only took me a short time to not like Influenster.) As of now, I have to revoke my endorsement of She Speaks and Vocalpoint. I am doing this with regrets, but I try to be honest about what I do and do not like when I share things here.

She Speaks used to rely on their own site for trying out products and getting feedback. Things have changed. These days, every She Speaks notice I get requires me to use Twitter and/or Facebook to get involved. That might not bother some folks, but I don't want to be forced to use my other social networks. Since I refuse to use Facebook, I resent that so many online sites (from news to android apps and on) almost try forcing users to tie themselves to FB. I do use Twitter, but I didn't join Twitter to use She Speaks. I joined She Speaks for one reason and Twitter for another. Occasional use of Twitter to tout She Speaks is fine, but do I really have to always go to Twitter in order to benefit from my She Speaks membership? Maybe She Speaks ought to change their sign-up info.

My boredom with Vocalpoint probably comes out of their laziness. There aren't many exciting products to try and the site has become sort of ho-hum.

Since I am on this rant, I can tell you that I wasn't ever super-crazy about Influenster. Okay, that's a lie. I really liked the idea of Influenster. They presented themselves wonderfully. Then I joined and worked hard at getting involved with everything on the site. And... nothing. I got nowhere with getting any offers or additional invitations to be involved. It was all kind of a dud.

Maybe all of this is a sign that I should give up on any word-of-mouth sites. You all know how I love trying and reviewing products, but I can do that on my own. I refuse to give these dud sites my contact information so they can re-sell it. Okay, that is another lie. I don't mind giving up some of my information in return for the chance to get a discount on or try a product. I just don't like not getting anything out of the deal.

Lately, I've been considering doing promotions for samples on this blog. Of course, I don't know how Google feels about that, so I have to do some checking first. Until then, if any of you know of some good product try-and-review sites, let me know.

By the by: Bzz Agent is still standing (IMO) as a worthy site. It requires participation, but doesn't hold you hostage to Facebook or Twitter.

Peace
--Free

(Notice that, other than Bzz Agent, I didn't link to any of the sites mentioned in the post? They don't deserve the promotion.)

UPDATE: She Speaks emailed me about their Lancome program just minutes after my post today. When I tried to go and sign up - surprise, surprise, I had problems logging in. Go figure. Of course, they will contact me to say they fixed the problem, but it will be too late to join the campaign. This is the first campaign invite in months. Whatever.

Winterizing Skin & Hair

This isn't just for the ladies. These days, a lot of guys care about their skin and hair as much (more?) than we do. I'm not judging. Just going to pass along tips my friends and I use.

For winters, it's cold here in Alaska, stays fairly warm and dry in most of Arizona, and the weather is all over the place in Texas. You may be able to use some or all of these suggestions.

Moisturize the body:
This is for all year round, but especially if you live anywhere cold, dry or dusty. (My sister-in-law who grew up in moist weather of the Seattle area has the best skin and hair in our whole family.) I use coconut oil in the summers, and still use it (or olive oil) to wipe my face first thing in the morning and just before bedtime. As a body moisturizer, I'm learning that it's just not enough during the colder months. I personally love Jergens and Dove. Jergens Ultra Healing & Overnight Repair lotions are great for after hot baths or showers. (One of my friends says that Jergens has a "scent" she doesn't like. I don't notice.) The "Overnight" is great for all day. As for Dove, when you especially want your skin to have a sexy-soft feel (no judgement), their Cream Oil lotion is amazing. (While it makes my skin feel sexy as hell, I don't find the Cream Oil is enough for a long day in cold or dry weather, but that's just me. My girlfriend J thinks it's just enough for her less-dry skin.) I'm not a fan of Nivea because it seems to only coat my skin, but I have friends who swear by it. ~shrug~

Moisturize the face:
Like I said, I still use oil (coconut or olive) to remove eye makeup and to prep my face morning and night or my Olay or Anew Ultimate. I run a humidifier which helps, but the oil is not enough to keep the dryness away, especially overnight. I prefer Avon's Anew in the winter and Olay's Regenerist. For some reason, the other Avon and Olay products don't work well for my skin. (BTW: you can join Club Olay here.) My sister prefers using Pond's Dry Skin Cream. It's way too heavy for my face, but my sister just found out how well it works for her. For lips (and I have dry lips), my routine is to use an oil/sugar or oil/baking soda mix to to slough with a Wet-One, then I put on a coating of petroleum jelly, rub that in until it's mostly wiped off. If I'm wearing a matte lipstick, I'll use whatever type of lip balm I have on hand or just prep my lips with some face cream. It kind of works, but I'd love to hear anybody's suggestions for a good lip balm.

Moisturize the hair:
Dove, Dove, Dove. Since I got sick, I wear my hair "natural" (no relaxers or perms), but I still dye it. Natural hair for most black people equals dry. Mine tends to be super-duper dry! If I don't want to use heavy leave-in products (and I don't), I can use Dove's Daily Oil Care Shampoo and Conditioner. After I wash and blot, I rub through some Organix Moroccan Argan Oil for extra dry & coarse hair. (They have lighter versions for different hair types.) My hair comes out soft, natural and not dry without being oily or greasy-feeling. I do use some heavier oil on my scalp about once a week before bed. One of my Caucasian friends likes hair treatment by Ion. Her hair always looks like it's clean, soft and well-conditioned.

For the feet, elbows, knees and other really dry areas (like the back of the thighs and butt), you just have to put in a little more effort. I have feet that I hate to whip out even in front of professionals.They are pretty dry! I try to stay in the habit of coating them at night with Vaseline and putting on a pair or warm socks. For those other areas, try putting on a thick coating of whatever lotion you like then blotting it instead of rubbing it into your skin.

Moisturize from the inside:
I have a major crush on my doctors, but I'm pretty pissed (wait for it...) that I'm on a medicine that makes me pee if I even see a glass of water. Still, they are right about one thing: it's important to drink a lot of water. Not soda, not tea, not booze - just plain old water. I've been better about drinking a lot of water for about two months now. I've noticed a couple of things: my mouth is less dry (duh) and my perfumes tend to wear better. It's still not easy to drink a lot of water if you aren't sprinting distance from a restroom at all times. I find myself walking into places, checking for the "Ladies" sign. Just in case.

If you have suggestions for winterizing (or summer-izing) the body, hit me up on G+

Peace
--Free

Speaking of Talent

When I spoke before about certain people being smarter than others, I mentioned  some folks with unique talents. I looked up a few other articles about people with pretty amazing artistic skills:

• This lady makes cakes that look like anything but. How cool is this? I told family members that I'd love to have that looks like a bottle of Shalimar.
• As someone who could only draw simple butterflies before I got sick (and couldn't draw a glass of water now), I love these works. That she drew these by hand with anything, let alone a pencil, just blows my mind. Oddity Central has quite done articles on similarly talented people. Some are weird, disturbing or silly, but Ms. Olga and this fellow are my favorites.
• I love "paper art", especially the work of Peter Callesen. Check this page for his and other paper art artists. (Love, love, love Brian Dettmer's book sculptures!)
• The same source site from the previous gave my first glimpse of Cecelia Webber's work. She takes the idea of "human body art" to the next level past fabulous. How beautiful are her designs?

Nice work, huh? I only wish I could afford any of it. By the way, if there is a point to this post (other than highlighting some cool talent), it's that we should all concentrate on what we are good at instead of worrying about our limitations. 

Hey, +maria antonia Trajano I see how you love art. Hope you find something you enjoy via th links posted here! :-)

Peace

--Free

Sense and Intelligence

In light of the beating that my self-esteem took a few weeks ago(yes, I still think about it), I found this article very interesting. I don't really care that this guy can clap his hands thirteen times per second. Really, I don't. Reading the article did trigger another thought for me:

There are some people who are considered to be very intelligent because of their academic or professional achievements or abilities. There are doctors and lawyers and physicists who've made it to the top of their fields. Can all of them clap thirteen times per second? (And does it matter?)

How many people can paint like Cheryl Kelley? Draw like Olga Larionova?  Speak as many languages as Timothy Doner? How many people can be taught to do any of those things?

Maybe I just felt so awful and battered when the recent testing I underwent highlighted my lost scholastic abilities. Maybe I'm just feeling defensive.  In one of my meaner moments of the past few weeks, I came up with a response for anyone who might ever try to make me feel I'm not as intelligent as they are: "If you are so smart, why aren't you smarter?"

I don't like being mean. I'd rather be brave and honest enough to just say that I'm no good at math. Never have been. I can, as people like to say,"own" that. Being worse at math since Sarc doesn't bother me as much as being worse at spelling or speaking. I hate that. (I also hate not always being able to remember my phone number - or where I put my purse, what time I was supposed to be at an appointment or why the hell I hid my extra house key wherever the hell I did.)

This is the frustration of my daily life. I don't need the additional stress of feeling shame because I need a calculator for doing more than adding simple numbers. And I really hate that someone has labelled my lack of mathematical prowess as "Dyscalculia." Seriously, people. Naming the crap just gives me an excuse. I don't want to make excuses. I want to be honest.

So, this is sort of a pep-talk to myself. (I said, sort of.)

I am a good person. I have plenty of common sense, tenacity and character. Pre-Sarc, I was a fairly sharp and intelligent person. With this illness (or peri-Sarc for the smart-asses), I find it a struggle sometimes to do things I used to be good at (and want to give up on things I was never good at). Still, I'm the good and decent person I've always been.

If I wanted to make excuses or be defensive about all this, I'm sure I could find ways. I don't need or want to do that. I am finally learning to be okay with who I am as I am. I'll always strive to be better, but I'm not going to run myself crazy in the process.

There is an awesome harmony in math. There is soul-stirring beauty in literature. There is something glorious in any scholastic pursuit. I aim to be the next Zora Neale Hurston. I'll leave it to someone else to be the Leonhard Euler of our times.

Peace
--Free

"Mathematicians are born, not made." (Henri Poincare)

 "Do not worry about your difficulties in Mathematics. I can assure you mine are still greater." (Albert Einstein)

Music That Creeps, Music That Soars

I love music. Jazz, Rock, Rhythm and Blues, Rhythm, Blues, Orchestral, Gospel, Techno, Funk, Rap. The only kind of music I don't like is any that leaves me not feeling moved in a good way.

If I'm sad, I want to hear something that will make me want to dance (or that gives me release to cry). When I'm happy, I want to hear something loud with a thumping bass or something that I can sing to. Sometimes, I just need to cool out. I like Etta, Smokey or Otis for moods like that. And, though my body is well past making babies, I still love baby-making music. Marvin, INXS, Sade, Mint Condition.

When I was younger, I discovered music via my parents' record collections or from being that idolizing little sister who always hung out with the older kids. As I got older, I laughed, cried, made love and danced to the same music my friends lived their lives to. When I got wiser, I started listening to whatever made me feel like living my own life. That's when I went back in time for Big Band, Swing, Classical and Gospel music. A couple of years ago, I got way into Reggae.

These days, I try to surprise my ears. That's hard to do because only the crappiest, trendiest sounds get big play - on the radio and in the lounges and clubs. Okay, it's not all crappy, but so little of "popular" music deserves its popularity. Like fashion and attitudes, music has gone trendy and clone-ish. Anybody singing or playing outside the twerk-and-jerk box is being ignored.

I'm so glad for YouTube. Sometimes, I just scroll through the offerings, just randomly listening to music (because I'm not really into the visuals). That's how I lucked up on Nneka and rediscovered Nina Simone and Steely Dan. I'm glad for the folks in my online social circles who post links to good music. This is how I discovered (years late) Jeff Buckley and The Waterboys. From paying attention to music from TV shows, I fell in love with Eva Cassidy, Band of Horses and M83.

Music has a deep effect on people.I think this is why there are groupies who will get in line to sleep with someone like Mick Jagger even though he seems like a horrible, arrogant toad of a person. I know that I fell for the worst man in the world (for me) partly because he is a talented musician. A person I know well married a woman simply because she can sing. When someone once asked why he, being such a ladies man, had married such a plain woman, his response was crude but true: "Whenever I think about the other women I could have married, I just close my eyes and tell her to sing for me." Jackass.

One song I recently discovered gives me the creeps every time I hear it. It's from the show "Damages."

Ewww.... Makes me want to take a shower in holy water.

On the other hand, there's this song. I feel I need to listen to it after hearing that creepy song. It puts me in such a mood of worship even though I have no idea what the lyrics are.

Music. It's strong stuff.

Peace
--Free