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Sunday, February 16, 2014

They Call It 'Motherwit'

This post is for my mother. She had a million bits of simple advice for me, no matter what problem I was having. I miss her and I love sharing the things she taught me.

When you feel sad:
'Sad' passes if you let it; if it doesn't, get help. Remember a time when you were not sad. Realize you won't always be sad. Watch something that makes you laugh so hard your stomach aches. Call up that friend who, you know when come running when you say you are sad. Take a long drive to nowhere in particular while playing great music.

When you feel happy:
Remember when you weren't happy. Think about someone who might not feel happy and do something for them. Say "Thank you" to good people in your life, even if you only say it in your heart. Do some of the things you don't have energy to do when you aren't happy. Stop for a moment and just feel the joy. You won't always feel this way, so cherish it.

When you feel lonely:
Know you aren't alone in feeling lonely. Make 'lonely' work for you. Remember when you didn't feel lonely. Find someone else who feels lonely. Get help, get comfort, get advice. Make changes.

When you feel on top of the world:
Know that feeling won't last. Remember when you didn't feel on top of the world. Think of how you can help someone who has never felt that way. Be good to people. Be humble. Don't be an ass about it.

When you feel beautiful on the outside:
Try to be as beautiful on the inside. Know that you won't always be beautiful on the outside. Know that 'beautiful' means different things to different people. Love everyone as much as you would if you weren't so beautiful. Love yourself as much as you would if you weren't so beautiful. Understand that beauty only matters as much as it matters.

When you feel beautiful on the inside:
Be thankful and hope that all people learn to feel that way.

When you feel ugly on the outside:
Know that being ugly outside doesn't mean you need to be an ugly person. Someone is going to find you beautiful if you find yourself beautiful. Accept yourself. Don't worry about 'ugly' beautiful people. Realize that there's a difference between 'ugly' and 'miserable' - then decide which you want to be.

When you feel ugly inside:
Get help. Make changes. Examine your heart.

When you feel overwhelmed:
First ask yourself why you feel overwhelmed. Start somewhere - anywhere - but don't linger on how you feel. Do one thing, then one more thing, and another. Ask someone for help. Stop and take a moment to just breathe. Back away from it all and come back when you are calmer.

When you feel unloved:
Love someone else. Comfort someone. Know that you just haven't met the person who can love you.Know that God loves you.

When you feel like you can't go on:
Ask yourself if anyone else has ever felt this way (and, in case you didn't know, everyone sometimes feels this way). Know that you must go on.  Know that you are needed by someone in this world - whether you know it or not. Want to wait for that person who needs you. Remember that, like everything - good or bad - this too will pass.

If you lose someone you thought was a friend:
Some friends are friends, some friends are not. Real friends will grow with you as life changes. Life changes, people change. Remember: you only thought they were a friend; now, at least, you know the truth.

When you get your heart broken:
Get his/her heart before you give him/her your body. A broken heart will teach your soul lessons. A real 'lover' is not defined in the bedroom. If you learned anything, it was worth the pain.

When you have life regrets:
A regret is only a regret if it didn't make you a better person. Don't miss doing today by thinking about yesterday. Don't forget, just don't linger.

Peace
--Free

Friday, February 14, 2014

Happy Single Awareness Day - Seriously

Some single folks might be sad today. They are feeling like they are missing out on being coupled up, in love and sure of getting loved up tonight. So, I do get it. This can be a day of torture. You have to go to work and watch all those gift deliveries that are coming NOT YOUR WAY. Or you'll have to plant that I'm-so-happy-for-you smile on your face and say things like, "Aww... sweetness," when your friends tell you all about their plans. Valentine's Day feels like it's 72 hours long for some folks.

Not me.

I've had great V-Days and bad ones - both while coupled up. Since the bad ones are more recent in my memory, I'm taking this day as a time to be thankful. Thankful that I have the good since sense (wow) to wait for a decent man. Thankful that I'm not staying in a relationship that doesn't make me a better person. Thankful that, for the first time in a few years, I'm kind of in love with myself.

You know how I know that I'm in the best place for me right now? Because I can truthfully say that I really am happy for the lovers out there. I didn't wake up practicing my fake-ass "Aww's" and "How cute are you guys?" to repeat every time I see a happy sweetheart.

Take it from me: if you are single today, that must be the best thing for you. Either you aren't in a relationship because you don't need to be, you don't deserve to be or - and this is the biggie - you haven't found the person you're supposed to be with. Matter of fact, if you are in a relationship and aren't happy, it might be for the same three reasons. I've been there.

This is just one day on the calendar. If Valentine's Day is really a time to show love, then every calendar day should be this special. When you find (or if you have found) the person right to share your life, then I hope you'll love them so much that Valentine's Day will just be a day like every other.

Now. Let's have some S.A.D. days chuckles:

Pick the right one, folks!

At least you'll save $$$ today! 

Just added this cos it's funny

I thank him for BEING an Ex


Happy Valentine's Day to all of you from me.

It's not just about lovers, but LOVE


Peace
--Free

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

What We Won't Do for Love (or Attention)

***Before I start my actual post, let me go ahead and get something out of the way: Valentine's Day is almost here. As always, I'll get my box of chocolates from my nephew DJ, which he will eat for me. My platonic guy friend will probably get me a Google Play card, same as he did for Christmas. (Don't laugh. A piece of my heart can be had for a Play card.) If anyone really loves me, they won't get me anything to send me running out to Planet Fitness.

As Valentine's Days go, mine won't be so bad. I have a date with DJ, who will whine (when he gets sleepy) and dine me with fish-sticks and Ranch dressing. 

If you are one of those people who will be crying your way through a flower-less Friday at work because you don't have a sweetheart, think about this: you may not have a Mister or Miss Right, but you also don't have Mister or Miss Wrong.***




Now. On to the post, which could be a related topic...

This morning, I saw an article online about a woman who had some type of cosmetic surgery called "dimpleplasty". I'm so serious. This lady had a surgery to give her dimples.

The other day, I posted about "tongue patches" for folks who want to lose weight. Now, here is a woman having a surgery because she wants what her favorite celebrity has: dimples. I'm afraid to question her common sense in case I get sued since she is apparently book-smart enough to be a "trainee lawyer". ~sigh~

When I read about this, I wanted to wave a lighter in the air and sing "Where Have All the Flowers Gone?"

I mean, really?

I get it that everyone wants to be attractive, but what happened to individuality and originality? I'd like to be a few inches taller - like, say, a fashion model - but I'm not going to go and have surgery for that.

The crazy thing about this is, whatever you do already have, someone else probably wants. Are we going to start swapping out one person's best features for another's? Such silliness!

The thing I really don't get about some of the plastic surgery stories I see is that there was nothing wrong with the patient in the first place. This story about the already adorable lady who wanted a heart-shaped face really threw me. In my opinion, the "Before" look is the one that wins. I don't even want to talk about that "After" shot other than to say, "Yikes!"

What I wonder is why people have all these crazy surgeries. Is it to be more attractive or to feel more attractive? I'm asking because, I don't see a whole lot wrong with the originals. Frankly, if I was a guy, I don't think I'd be turned on by someone who paid to have holes punched into their face. Not sexy.

Anyway, you know me. Once I get on a roll, I just keep spinning. I clicked on a story about this person who paid big bucks to look like the Devil. I almost passed out from pain just reading that his surgeries were done without anesthetics. He's had his eyes tattooed and his tongue spliced - sorry, I mean forked. Ick. And he's not done because we all know the Devil needs a tail... Wow. (As a woman with a two-year old as her date for Valentine's Day, I'm a little bitter right now because I just know there's someone Googling this guy to hook up as I type this.)

I don't know about you guys, but I don't even like wearing uncomfortable shoes to look good. I mean, I will, but when I do, I pop a couple of ibuprofen tablets beforehand. For surgery to punch holes in my face or have my eyeballs tattooed, I'd need to be put into a coma first.

When are we going to stop with the craziness and just be as we are? What really makes a person beautiful is when they work with what they have. Looks really aren't everything. We've all met the attractive person who couldn't hold our interest for more than two seconds, right? Or we meet a person who just knocks us right out of our socks with a goofy smile or an amazing personality.

If we are honest about it, none of us are really looking to be 'beautiful' or 'handsome'. We are looking to be attractive and charming - which is, basically, the definition of charisma. Since being charismatic takes confidence (at least outwardly), the folks relying on surgery are betraying their weakness from the start. I'm not sure I would be attracted to someone who needs more than a little makeup, fitness and grooming to feel good about themselves.

When I think of men I find incredibly sexy, it would be hard to sell them by just describing their looks:

  • Denzel has buckteeth. 
  • Michael Hutchence had acne scars. 
  • Sean Connery, bushy eyebrows. 
  • Kevin Hart is short
  • Prince. Shorter.
  • Lenny Kravitz. Um... Okay, nothing wrong there.
  • Laz Alonzo... Well, okay. Not a damn thing wrong there either.
  • D.B. Woodside is only on this list so I can do this:
Damn you, D.B. Woodside! I think I just sprained my libido

But you get what I mean though, right? You either have 'it' or you don't. You can't get 'it' with surgery, but you can with a smile, intelligence, humor and - most of all - being interested and interesting. I fell in love with my first husband when I saw him standing over a sink of dishes with his sleeves rolled up. Most women have a thing for seeing a man show kindness to children (which is why some slick guys 'borrow' nieces and nephews for trips to the mall).

What we all need to do, instead of whining about the lack of available partners, is give someone five minutes of our time to see if it's worth spending more time with them. Making friends and finding partners would be easier for all of us if we could get over this obsession with caring only about looks or status. Until we do, there are going to be a lot of people celebrating Stag-entine's or Gal-etine's instead of Valentine's Day. 

Peace
--Free

Monday, February 10, 2014

***REVIEW*** of "Never Tear Us Apart"

I love INXS. The original lineup is the only one I've ever known - other than hearing "Don't Change" done by five of the original men. In my opinion, they are one of the greatest bands ever - musically, lyrically and live. In my youth, I had crushes on every one of the guys (especially Michael Hutchence) and I'm so glad that the five are still around.

Okay. Now that you know what a fan I am, let's talk about the movie, "Never Tear Us Apart". I'm going to be careful not to spoil it for those who haven't seen the show yet.

I have seen the first part and, yes, it's good. Is it perfect? Nope. Nothing could be, other than a documentary of the guys using footage of every high and low of their careers. The first part of the film doesn't have a lot of surprises for any die-hard fan. I mean, come on, we hardcore fans devoured everything about those guys as it was happening. Still, I like what the movie does with the music.

Here is where I might get in trouble with some fans, but I'm going to say it: I don't think that Luke Arnold looks all that much like Hutchence. He's attractive, yes, but what Hutchence had made him rare. Arnold does a great job of capturing the mannerisms and singing voice. At least, it's my understanding that he does some of the singing. He doesn't have Hutchence's speaking voice down. That was another rare,sexy thing about the man. The actor who looks most like the character he represents is Andrew Ryan (playing Andrew Farriss). Both guys are sweetly cute. (Yeah, Andrew Farris was actually my first crush in the band. He's still a cutie. ~sigh~ Kirk Pengilly was second, then Michael.)

I digress.

It was nice to see the flashbacks in the movie. The Farris's seem to have had a great family. Watching the boys interact with their folks, I thought of my own Southern upbringing. Nice. The young hotness playing a young Hutchence looks a lot like, well, a young Hutchence. That kid is going to have the girls chasing him, trust that.

No matter what you think of the casting, this is a movie that any INXS fan is going to like. For me, it brought back a lot of good memories - of the band and of my own life then. Things were just so good.

Finally, I have to say that I love Aussie TV. They aren't all hung up on nudity or language issues. As an American, I'm not used to such openess on 'regular' television. When the first boob flashed, I almost spit orange juice. When the black dildo was shown, I closed my blinds because I was afraid the neighbors would think I was watching porn. That kind of honesty really let the story be told. I wonder now if that's why the few Aussies I know are so happy. They don't have our standard hangups about such things.

I can't wait to see the next part of the movie. Actually, I'm a little apprehensive. Of course, I know how the story ends, but that's just it. I remember how I felt when I heard about Hutchence dying. I was affected more than seemed normal. After all, I had never met the man. Talk about the power f music! While the first half of the movie made me smile because of the memories (and the fan-affection I still have for those guys), the second half just might make me sad all over again.

Peace
--Free

Sunday, February 09, 2014

*Tongue* Patch Diet? Seriously?

As a woman who once weighed less than a gym bag full of wet tennis shoes, my self-esteem was bruised when I gained 30 pounds. Still, I could get away with wearing cute clothes right off the rack. I didn't have to look for anything in certain colors or patterns or the right kind of 'hang' to feel cute. Plus, I knew I was healthy and could easily take off the pounds the minute my busy life let me get from behind my work desk.

Fast forward to when I got sick. The only gym bag to compare my weight to was one Gulliver could have used in his travels. I shot right up 59 pounds faster than I could blink.

Thankfully, I'm better now and I'm able to exercise regularly. I keep music on at home so I can dance around to do chores. Recently, I started back with my 3 days a week at Planet Fitness, and summer is coming. I'm down 34 pounds and have 25 to go before I'm free of wearing long tops and those pants with 'slimming panels' at the belly. Hallelujah and thank Jesus.

Once I get those 25 pounds off my butt, I plan to shoot for another 25 or 30. I might not stay at my best weight, but I plan to visit it for a while. I'll most likely take rooms at the place next door to a loss of 25 or 30 - like maybe 20. I'd be happy to retire there, truth be told.

I've worked hard to drop this weight. All those foods and beverages I inhaled in my twenties and thirties (because it seemed I could just pee the calories away) are gone. Changing my eating habits wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I eat more for my skin and hair than I do for my nerves. I seem to have lost my cravings for all but an occasional taste of chips and dip or burger and fries. Thank you, menopause. (Coffee is never going out of my life. NEVER. Coffee with lots of cream and brown or raw sugar is my crack. I hope somebody invents vanilla-caramel creamer with lots of calorie-free fat. Yes, indeedy.)

The one thing I won't do to lose weight is participate in any kind of extreme dieting. I'm vain, not stupid. Fad diets mess with your skin, hair and general well-being. What's the use of having your ideal body size if that body is all effed up?

So, I come (finally, right?)  to this "Tongue Patch Diet" I've been hearing about.

Who in the happy hell would want the pain of having that thing sewn onto their tongue? Why not just superglue your lips around a block of wood and leave a straw-hole in the middle?

Maybe it's me. I admit that we all have different weaknesses, but I think that, at some point, self-motivation has to win over pain. If not, then how about the fact that this guy - you know, the guy who came up with this - doesn't even want to say the word 'healthy' in connection to the procedure?

Asked if sewing a foreign object into somebody's mouth was healthy, Chugay said, "Well, it's not unhealthy."
Huh.

Thank you, sir, but no. Even if I could afford the two grand for the procedure, I have this thing where I only go to a doctor to have pain taken away. Wow.

I admit that losing weight is hard. I've been a single digit size and I've shopped in the curvy girls section. Fighting your cravings and desire for comfort is rough. I still have days where I have to talk myself into driving right past the Burger King half a mile up the road. I get a block away and start singing "Dixie": Look away, look away... Boy, there are times when I am glad to have some idiot tailgating my ass so I don't have time to hit the brakes and make that turn into the drive-through.

On the other hand, I have to wonder why, if someone is willing to go so far to lose weight - why not just change grocery-shopping habits? I could just think about the pain of a patch being sewn onto my tongue and steer myself away from the Twinkies. I mean, damn.

I'm not going to criticize too hard. For me, though, I will stick with self-motivation. The only pain there is from the occasional fall off the wagon.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, February 08, 2014

Black History Month

Let's talk about this: Black history, people, race and why we do talk about it so much.

I have to admit that I have mixed feelings about Black History Month. On the one hand, I am happy that  the history of black people is officially acknowledged. On the other hand, I am sad that there has to be a separate history for one race of people in a country made up of many races.

I feel the same way about racial designations. Why are there hyphenated Americans? And, since we do hyphenate, why not hyphenate everyone?

This is not the first time (nor will it be the last, God willing) that I post about racial issues. The issues exist, but we are all just people. Black, brown, white, red, light, dark, tanned; attractive, plain, unattractive; silly, sweet, ignorant, kind, caring, dumb-ass; smart, dumb, nice, hateful, petty, selfless, rude, sensitive, cruel; famous, infamous, unknown; rich, poor, frugal, spendthrift, struggling; admirable, embarrassing; sinful, saintly and... human.

I've not remained strictly constant on how I look at racial issues. Opinions and emotions and reactions never are constant. On issues of race, sometimes, I've been angry. I've sometimes been just irritated. There have been times when I've felt race matters very much, and times when I've wished it didn't. Sometimes, it's mattered more to other people than to me. It's mattered in subtle ways and in ways that were uncomfortable.

(Let me go ahead and get the whole "first black President" thing out of the way: Yes, I was elated by the election of Obama. I'm not always thrilled with what he's done in office, but I am still happy that voters were able to put him there. I'm more happy with what I think of as the "wall of color" being battered down than I am with the man who stepped over the threshold.)

Don't get me started again on my rant about being so hyphenated. I've said it before: I am a Black-American (if it has to matter) and Charlize Theron is an African-American (if she has citizenship ~shrug~). My point is, I came from Texas, not Africa. If we want to get ancestral, there are some people who believe we may all be hyphenated Africans. Or maybe we should be hyphenated Asians.

For myself, I believe we all have roots in Eden. And does it matter where we 'originated' if we create a hell here on earth by battling over the differences?

Tell you the truth, every February I forget that it is Black History Month until about the second week in. I'm going to get heat for this but... after the first celebration, it stopped being that big of a deal for me. What would impress me is if all people remembered every month of the year that we are equal and American. No greater than someone from Japan or Ireland or Jupiter. Just equal and human.

Am I disregarding the hardships of being black? No. I just think that one of the hardships is that we still are dealing with the effects of racism. Long after the end of slavery (for American blacks), there is still racism and plenty of other ignorance - by all races.

It's ignorant for people who are not black to say that race never matters.I'd like to ask the most ignorant of that group: If it never matters, would you trade your race for being black for a year? It's ignorant when people who are black act like history doesn't matter. I'd like to ask the most ignorant of that group: If someone died for equal education, why aren't you taking advantage of that right?

Black History Month will soon end for the year. Being black - being whatever race - is forever. We have to work at making life the best it can be every day that we live.

Peace
--Free

Sunday, February 02, 2014

"Welfare" is NOT a Dirty Word

When I posted about hope for the disabled, I was thinking of how being disabled is stigmatized enough without other problems.

Being out of work is a trigger for depression. You aren't bringing in a paycheck - you are receiving welfare.
Definition of Welfare: financial support given to people in need. (my emphasis)
Welfare isn't a dirty word, but the way many people say it makes one think of a recipient as being lower than a rapist. I think one of the reasons I've always disliked an otherwise likable man is because he popularized the term Welfare Queen. He did for recipients of assistance what many trashy newspapers do for the image of any American person with brown skin.

I've responded before to people who have a negative perception of welfare recipients. (Okay, it was more like I ranted, but I felt provoked.) I probably didn't touch the conscience of the stupid, but I might have made a difference to the ignorant.

On the subject of depression among the disabled (even those who aren't diagnosed as depressed), much of the problem is caused by ignorance. Most of us are guilty of being ignorant of situations we haven't been in. Ignorance is only bliss for the people it doesn't affect. When I run into people who are ignorant about my personal situation as a welfare recipient, I am affected. Sometimes, I come away mad, but I often just feel depressed and frustrated.

An example:

A while back, I was in the grocery store and another shopper started chatting with me. She commented on the ridiculous prices of the fruit we were looking over. She told me how she had lived all over the world and still didn't understand why shipping costs to Alaska seemed worse than anywhere else. That led us into a conversation about other things: places we'd lived, jobs we'd held, our hobbies... We even had a good laugh over being single after forty. She was one of those people you meet and just instantly like. She seemed smart, educated and friendly. We talked for probably a good fifteen minutes before separating to finish our shopping. A couple of times while I was cruising the aisles, I saw her and another woman sharing a cart.

When I went to the self-checkout section, there was the lady and her friend at the register next to mine. She had a bunch of groceries she was almost finished checking out and she gave me a look of "Thank God" when she was just about done. I scanned my three or four items and pulled out my EBT card to pay.

The EBT cards issued here in Alaska look pretty much like any debit card, but most residents know at a glance exactly what they are.

The woman who had been so friendly before saw that EBT card and she developed an instant nose-up attitude. I don't know if she said anything to her friend or not, but I caught them watching me and giving each other looks. I thought about waving when I left, but they were ignoring me pretty good. I'm not blaming this woman for her reaction. I blame media and anyone who promotes negative stereotypes. Still, I felt a few seconds of hatred for that lady's attitude. When I got over that, I spent the drive home wishing something would happen to send her running to stand in line at the local Public Assistance office. I got over that, but the hurt feelings I had lingered for days. Also, I started using my EBT card at the least busiest time in a store - like at midnight.

Maybe I am just being sensitive. Probably. Knowing how welfare is so stigmatized in our society will do that.

I told my sister once that no matter how I'm dressed or how I speak and present myself, that the minute I have to pull out that EBT card at a store (or the Medicare/Medicaid card at a clinic), my soul shrinks ten inches. My sister knows me. She knows that I tend to feel everything too deeply. She has held my hand while I've cried from feeling embarrassed and worthless because of that fucking EBT card.

Being on welfare feels like wearing signs that say things like "I am lazy", "I am milking the system", "I am the reason you pay so much in taxes".

What I want to express here is that not everyone receiving assistance owns those signs. We've paid taxes and we will be happy enough to pay them again. Not all of us wear our situations wear you can see them. We are smart, educated and worthwhile people. We have, at some point, worked just as hard as you. We dream and hope and care and feel. Just like you.

The past couple of years have been tough, but I've learned things about myself that I might never have discovered. A good thing about being at your lowest point is, you can be sure of the sincerity of the people who love you.

If you are someone lucky enough to never need help, be good to the people who do.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, February 01, 2014

Employment Hope for the Disabled

I'm a very happy chick this weekend. Even though the temps have dropped and it looks like winter is going to be here for the full stay (no early spring for us!), the sun in my world is starting to peek out.

A lot of my blog posts in the past couple years (maybe most of them) have referenced my disability. I like to think of it as "this damn sarc". Other than the physical damage the sarc has caused, it's also beat hell out of my esteem. I probably had the disease lurking for years before it put me in the hospital. For two and a half years, I haven't been able to function at my normal abilities. For a while, I couldn't walk without running into walls and there were times I couldn't remember my name. The time I spent not able to drive was bad but the worst thing was not being able to work.

Most people who are temporarily out of work find other ways to use their time. I couldn't do much of anything that required being able to concentrate for more than five minutes at a time. Even writing a simple blog post took hours.

A few months back, I told my doctors that I really wanted to try getting back into the workforce. If I could find work I could actually perform. If my sarc remained stable under treatment. If I wasn't terrified of relapsing or losing the ability to continue treatments. A lot of ifs, a lot of fear and anxiety.

I can't be the only person in this situation, so I want to share news that there is some hope for us. I don't want to get specific because I only know about my personal situation. Let me give some general suggestions for other disabled people to start finding hope:

  • Check with a local Vocational Rehabilitation office. See if they offer the services you need to get back to work.
  • If you are receiving the government disability benefits that you earned, check on having those benefits analyzed. A Benefits Analyst can outline your options for returning to work and maintaining insurance until you are fully recovered. 
  • If you don't know where to begin in finding a voc rehab agency or Benefits Analyst, contact your hospital for help finding a social worker or anyone else who can assist you.
  • Ask, ask, ask. If you are receiving any kind of benefits or assistance from any agency, trust me, those folks want to help get you back on your feet.
  • Be polite, be sincere when reaching out for help. People really do seem to want to help folks who truly do want help. (I have some angels in my social networks who were encouraging to me from the very beginning. You all know exactly who you are. By the way, I love you!)
  • You might get discouraged, but don't stay discouraged. If you run into a wall (not literally!) when trying to find information, just go another route.
  • Contact hospitals, clinics, local and federal assistance agencies. Even try asking your doctors. (I lucked out in getting caring physicians.)
  • Local assistance and programs vary by state, but you can easily check out help via federal programs.)
  • People out there don't always share what they know. You may have to ask around.
Like I said, I don't want to go into specifics about my situation, but I will say that I have had a lot of my fears addressed. Not only are people helping me determine what kind of employment I'm currently suitable for, they are going to help me gain employment. 

For all the griping folks do sometimes about our government, I've learned that, as a disabled person, I'm very lucky to live in America. 

So. Hopefully, before this year is over, I will be able to gripe about driving to work in crappy weather. I look forward to it.

Peace
--Free

Friday, January 31, 2014

***UPDATE*** Natural Girl Hair Tales

As I sort of promised, here are some pics for the previous post on natural hair:


Is that a gray hair?! Nope. Split ends, dang it!!!

Still a TWA, huh?


Have to find a style since the new growth...


My hair had a buildup of other products and, since it wasn't time for my shampoo, I did a rinse-out. I applied the Kinky-Curly leave-in detangler before I let my hair dry and put it up for the night in some sloppy cornrows. This morning, I used some JBCO on my scalp and applied just the tiniest bit of the KeraCare leave-in conditioner to the rows. I took the cornrows out and used another teensy bit of KeraCare while I did my comb-out.

You can see my hair growth when looking back at a December photo.

Had leftovers of a texturizer. Kinda like it.


What you can't see is how soft my hair feels. There was a slight feeling of product until it sort of absorbed (after about 15 minutes), then there was no dampness or oily feeling at all. My hair feels a little bit 'sponge-y' but in a good way. There's no coil to my hair right now because I picked it instead of doing using my fingers to style it. I did just spritz the back with some water to see what happens. The water gave me some curl formation, but I'm going for a fluffy 'fro today.

Both products seem to work really well. I am loving the KeraCare the most. Because the Kinky-Curly is so pricey, I probably won't buy anymore until I have more length. I will definitely be getting more of the KeraCare. By the way, I like that neither product has a "smell". I sniffed the containers and the Kinky-Curly is almost odorless (there is the slightest soap-like scent) and the KeraCare smells a bit like body lotion. It's not unpleasant.

I think that the KeraCare is going to be something that works for all hair types, but especially for hair in the 4 range.

So, if you are wondering about these products, that's my take on them. (Now let me go do something to style these naps!)

Peace
--Free

Thursday, January 30, 2014

***REVIEW*** Glade Wax Melts and Plugins Scented Oil Customizables

I received and coupons for a Glade Wax Melts and a Plugin Scented Oil Customizable starter kit. I got  the freebies to  try as part of my BzzAgent membership.

First off, the wall plugin unit is really pretty. It's also pretty big. I have a TrueAir (filter) plugin which I love except for its size. The Glade is not quite as large and it's very lightweight, but you can see how the two items compare.

Glade on the left. (Scuse my messy room)


Not sure if my glasses help for size relation, but...
I do love that the unit is pretty. The photo doesn't capture how nice it blends in with my decor. (Probably because my 'decor' at 4 a.m. is jeans and purse tossed on the floor next to my bookcase!)

You can't tell, but I have the Glade plugged in to the top outlet. There is room for using the bottom outlet. I can't do that with the TrueAir which takes up too much space. To be fair, the TrueAir is filter. But how cute is the Glade plugin?


Hmmm... I need to tidy the bookshelf!






















Now, looks are important, but the fragrance is the real key, right? So...

I am going to give it some more time because after two hours, I don't notice much.My room is maybe 10x8 - not tiny, but not a gangsta-sized space. I turned off my air filter (not the TrueAir, which I unplugged) and closed the window that I had cracked the teeniest bit.

Still... nothing.

Usually, I have a candle burning or a different brand of wax melt going. I've scented my room nicely with a tealight candle. Mainstays has a 3oz Lemon Cake candle I get for one dollar. Whenever I light it, I gain half a pound just from the wonderful smell. I guess you can say that I was a little disappointed with the Glade Plugin.

Don't forget that I also received a coupon for a free set of 8 wax melts. I decided to see if they work better than the plugin.

A bit thicker than other melts


See? (Hope I don't get in trouble for the penny.)

When I picked out the melts at the store, I'd noticed that it was hard to catch a good whiff of the Cashmere Woods melts through the packaging. I did get a faint hint though. I assumed that the melting process would bring out the goodness.

Nope.

I hate to say just how disappointed I am. More so for the plugin because of the pricing (over $8 here in Alaska) and because of the expectations. I checked out some of the other Glade products while at the store. Nice scents and much more noticeable. In order to get a feel for the Customizable plugin and the wax melts, I had to get my nose right down next to both.

Since BzzAgent is great about supplying coupons to share, I've handed out some to 5 people so far. Pretty sure I won't hear back from the people I handed out to while in the store, but I have some friends and family who are going to use their coupons soon. Can't wait to hear what they think. Good thing is, they are the kind to pick a totally different scent from what I chose Maybe they'll have a better opinion. I will be sure to update this review when I get their feedback.

Bottom line for me: If I had to score this on a scale of 10, I have to give both items a 3. Great design on the plugin, nice size on the melts, but... ~shrug~ I don't want a great-looking but useless person in my life. Same goes for products.

I'm not quite done yet. (I know. I go on and onnnn...)

Here's the thing, because I got a refund on something I returned to the store, I went ahead and picked up a Glade automatic spray refill. I don't remember what the original price was, but I got a markdown price of around $2.00. I chose the Cashmere Woods (which, for some reason, I keep calling Cashmere Mist) scent.

Sprayed the whole apartment & tons left in the can


Now THIS is something I can love. Spray it and the air smells like someone walked through the room wearing a light perfume very well. I'm not kidding. It's a sort of soft, Oriental-hued scent. A couple of sprays made my room smell like a relaxation chamber. Mmmm... So nice. It's a very lasting scent. Love that. The way my room mate smokes, I need to buy this by the freaking case.

Peace
--Free

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Natural Girl Hair Tales

We've all been warned to be careful what we wish for. Just weeks ago, I was wishing for my hair to grow a bit faster. With the mild chemo meds I am on, I'm having to constantly battle to care for every nappy strand on my head.

I remember when I used to complain about having hair. Too much of it, too thick and heavy... At one point I even went and had it all chopped off. Thought I wouldn't miss being able to snatch my hair into a ponytail. The style was cute as heck, but after about three weeks, I got tired of flat-ironing and gelling it to keep up the look. I'm not lazy when it comes to my appearance, but getting up almost two hours before work just so I didn't look like I didn't give a damn got old real fast. Of course, this was pre-sarc. For a fix I only had to throw in a couple inches of weave and wait out the grow period. These days, I'm so afraid of damaging the little bit of hair that I have that I don't even like to use bobby pins.

How many ladies out there know where I'm coming from?

Going all-natural was my first step in getting my hair together. No more straightening relaxers or mild texturizers. I even started using gentler shampoos and styling products. Being natural makes me feel somehow more 'in touch' with myself. It's also fun. Whenever I have a bad hair morning, I look at something like this -
Thank you, Pinterest
Then I just laugh and laugh.

I've also had a few teary moments. One of the reasons I went natural is because I thought it would save money. Yeah, right.

When I used relaxers, I'd get a $5 - $8 box product about every three and half months. Because my hair was so short after the medical treatments, I could stretch two touch-ups from each box. With relaxed hair, I had a small flat-iron, some general combs and brushes and a a few accessories to pin down or dress up the tresses. Shampoo and conditioner lasted forever. I went natural and lost my mind trying out different products. For what I pay for a good curl cream, I could keep Motley Crue in makeup or years. Just ridiculous.

Right after I went natural, I accumulated curl 'puddings', softening lotions, shine serums, oils, scarves and plastic conditioning caps. I have a box so full of products, I could hawk them for grocery money. Some worked. Most were too heavy, oily, stinky, sticky or runny. I used one that made my hair look like a chick with a stylist and chauffeur on call. Until I went out in some -2 degree weather. That shit sent my hair into corpse mode: chalky and stiff.

Now that I have found a few products that work for my hair, it's not the money factor that's killing me. Nooooo... My new torment is that my natural hair has a natural mind of its own. I can wake up one morning and these naps just look luscious. Wake up the next morning and I don't know whose hair I've got on my head. Then, of course, there's the whole you-can't-be-lazy-and-beautiful thing.

I just love the natural chicks on Pinterest


That right there is the stone cold truth!

I'm not too lazy to tie up my hair at night. I even like doing it because I have some cute scarves and I like the way I look wearing them. The problem is that I usually sleep out of the scarf sometime during the night. I woke up to go to the bathroom the other night, saw myself in the mirror and had a ten-minute giggle fit. The damn scarf was hanging down inside the front of my t-shirt. It was like I had just sat it on top of my head and said "Hell with it". If I don't lose the scarf completely during the night, I usually wake up looking like a drunk pirate. Not sexy. I have fears that I'll manage to strangle myself one night. With a cute scarf. Damn.

There are good hair days though. I love the look I get right after a shampoo. Curls popping and not crunchy. Yes! That lasts if I splurge and use one of my 'good' products for moisturizing. I'll do that if I have to, but, let's face it, I'm single. No one's snuggling close enough to feel these curls. I usually use the cheap stuff that just makes my hair look touchable. Saving that good stuff for better days ahead.

I just got some new products courtesy an Amazon gift card (sent from an app developer for my feedback - hey-ey!). This is stuff that I would never have spent money on without a trial.


Leave-in detangler


Leave-in conditioner

I've heard great things about both products from all the natural hair sisters out there. When I use them, I'll post a review with pics.

That Kinky-Curly Knot is no joke price-wise. $15.80 for 8oz. I'll be using that sparingly. The KeraCare was slightly less expensive at $6.38 for 4oz. I don't know how it is for delivery elsewhere, but the shipping costs are stupid for Alaska addresses. Merchants must think we get a PFD every month! For $25 in products, I paid over $20 for the shipping alone. Crazy, right. This is why I don't order from Amazon as much as I'd like to. You know it doesn't cost that much for a padded mailer. Pshhh!

Anyway.

I'll try to get to those reviews soon. In the meantime, my hair is calling for moisture. Let me go drench and tie it up for the night. Before I go, I have something for those sisters who think "nappy" is a dirty word. Nobody is buying your ancestry lies, ladies. Straight, curly, nappy, kinky. It's your hair, you might as well claim it.

Claim your hair, girl. Claim your hair!


Peace
--Free





Monday, January 27, 2014

Mood Music and Poetry

No matter what I'm feeling, I can usually find something something breathed out by another creative soul to catch my mood. Sometimes, that's a comforting thought - like when I realize that almost everything I feel (from physical desire to blind utter despair) is covered in the poetry of the Bible. Sometimes, it's absolutely chilling to know that my deepest fears and worst thoughts are represented by some artistic person in this world.

As a wanna-be novelist myself, anyone else's creative expression makes me feel that I am in unique company. I can't sing, but I hear songs and think, "Yes! That's just what it feels like." ("It" might be pain or worry or joy or madness.)

Though I love music, I often unintentionally re-write song lyrics as I sing them loudly (and badly, badly, badly) while dancing around my apartment. I try not to sing as loudly while I'm driving, or anywhere around the very young or very elderly for fear of causing internal organ trauma.

Before I get too far off subject, here are some songs and poems that fit certain moods. I hope you like them:

If you are sad


If you are in love, out of love or just confused


Just because I loves you-
That's de reason why
My soul is full of color
Like de wings of a butterfly
Just because I loves you
That's de reason why
My heart's a fluttering aspen leaf
When you pass by (Hughes 28)


If you need to dance or do anything else to work off stress
  • Beth Hart just kills it. She's so badass & I love her work. Get her if you need to move, pretend you can move or if you feel love.
  • Go oldies with The Temps, Lionel, or LTD
  • Go new with whoever you want to. I almost gave myself whiplash trying, so I'll stop here.

Getting back to mishearing lyrics, here's a fun fact: There is a name for mishearing/misquoting lyrics - "Mondegreen". Interesting...

More Interesting: The origin of the word.

Most Interesting: The one mondegreen I'm not guilty of is the funniest one ever. ("Desperado, you've been outright offensive, for so long now" (Real lyric: "You've been out riding fences," The Eagles.)

"In Da Club" (by 50 'Fitty' Cent) is one of my favorite songs to have a dancing fit to. My family will never, ever let me forget that I always heard the words as "We gonna slip a tardy" instead of, "We're gonna sip Bacardi." Think that's bad? This next line puts me in a league of my own: I hear "toes down, be's up" instead of "hoes down, G's up." (I just thought he was doing the country grammar thing!) That's what happens when someone my age listens to music way out of generation. (I still like my 'version' best.)

Peace
--Free

Friday, January 24, 2014

Ruthie, Ruthie, Ruthie...

I'm too lazy to look back at posts to see if I ever mentioned my friend Ruthie here. Put it this way: if I've talked at all about writing, I've talked about Ruthie.

Ruthie is that friend everyone wants to hide from every now and then. She is great, really, but she can be like a bad toothache. The pain is a bitch, but thank god it reminds you to keep up good habits - like brushing and flossing.

The bitch-pain part of Ruthie is that she has more faith in me than I sometimes have in myself. I say I want to be a published novelist. Ruthie knows I'm going to be published someday. She's not going to give up on me even if I have to kill her and write about it from Death Row to make it happen.

We have a pick-up-where-it-fell-off kind of friendship, Ruthie and I. She's married. Has been since the first days of elephant jeans. Actually, if I'd stayed with my first husband, Ruthie and I would be wishing each other Happy 30th anniversaries soon. (Yeah, I do have regrets.) The hilarious thing is, Ruthie and her man divorced once for a few months and got back together but none of us count the breakup. Ruthie gets busy with the "renewed" marriage and her two grandkids (yeah, another thing for me to "what if?" myself about) and our separate lives get in the way. Plus, she lives in another state which forces us to use the phone and internet to keep in touch. The last time we dropped the phone-call ball was last year when I had a minor romance and Ruthie was moving with her husband into a new house.

The other day, Ruthie saw my post about Amazon's writing contest. This blog is her way of peeping in on my life, I guess.

My phone rang at around one this morning.

Those too-late-to-be-good calls always stop my heart for a few seconds. You know how the brain's worry cortex - or whatever it's really called - kicks into gear before you're fully awake, right? Who's sick? What happened? No, God, no...

I've already had enough bad, sad and frustrating news in the past few months to last the next decade. I never even thought to look at the caller's I.D. so I was pretty relieved to hear Ruthie's maniacal cackle when I answered my phone.

"Girl! You sleeping?"

Yeah. That's my Ruthie.

"Sleeping, scared straight, having a minor heart attack. Whatever."

"So, listen. What are you submitting to this contest?"

Ruthie was talking like she was calling during a lunch break. One a.m. here means four a.m. where she is. Really, heffa?

"I'm trying to submit sleep to the contest of 'Be My Ass on Time to a 7:30 Doctor's Appointment'," I told her. "What the hell is wrong with your clock?"

"I got a Keurig for an early anniversary present and I've been trying all the different coffees," she said. "I haven't slept in four days."

"Well, I have a twenty dollar Living Essentials one-cup maker that drips mostly water, so I was sleeping just fine."

"Ooh, girl. We're going to have to get you a decent machine," she came right back. "You know how you get without a good cup of caffeine."

I kept reminding myself how I love this friend of mine. And I really was glad to hear from her - even at the ass crack of before dawn.

"Back up. You got a coffee pot - for your anniversary?" I wanted to know. "What's really going on with this 're-marriage' thing?"

"I got myself the Keurig," she said. "Calling my Keurig a 'coffee pot' is like calling Denzel a 'man' Now, what about this contest?"

One-track Ruthie.

"I'm working on something, but I don't know if it will be done in time."

"No excuses," she said. "Get it done, girl. Just. Get. It. Done."

"I can't rush my process."

"What process is that? The one where you criticize yourself to death while you're writing, then delete everything and start over?"

This is what happens when you have a friend who knows you too damn well.

Ruthie did her full routine. She nagged, she encouraged, she made me feel way more intelligent that I am. By the time she finished, Hemingway was a hack who learned under my mentorship in a previous life.

"Yeah, okay," I gave in. "I will get something submitted. I might go crazy trying, but..."

"Good. Now, are you seeing anyone special?"

I ended the conversation right there by reminding Ruthie I had to be up soon to drive in messy weather. Basically, I damn near hung up while she was still talking. If I let that woman get started on my love life, I'll be married before Valentine's Day.

Hmmm...

Peace
--Free

Thursday, January 23, 2014

R.I.P. Kita Cat

Wanted to post these photos of one of my best buddies ever.



Our beautiful cat, Kita, had to be put down yesterday. He got into something that poisoned him. I never thought I'd be so heart-sad about losing a pet. I refuse to cry because I might not be able to stop.




Kita was supposed to be a girl. Hah! We figured out the truth after we named 'her' Kita. He was also supposed to be my sister's cat, but he adopted me as a second owner. I was newly diagnosed with sarcoidosis. Wasted with fatigue and depression, I was too sore and predni-fat to move out of a camp chair set up for me on the back deck. I'd sit there in almost all 18 hours of sunlight, crying, dazed and hallucinating. Kita was just a little ball of fur. I'd only come inside so that I could hold him on my lap and not worry about being so alone. No one else could get near me without getting singed with my roid-rage.

As Kita got a little bigger, my doctors realized my meds were causing my hallucinations and irrational rage. The meds were decreased somewhat so I didn't cry or lash out as much, but I still slept only a couple hours a day. Kita never slept as much as most other cats. He roamed the house and would try to claw his way through the screen door to get to me.



Silly, precious cat. The reason we tried to keep you indoors is to prevent exactly what happened to you.

When I got well enough to move into my own place, I couldn't bring Kita because I'm not supposed to breathe in the dust from kitty litter. No matter. I visit my sister a lot. Any time I'd go over, Kita would come from wherever and remind me that I mattered. He had this thing about tapping my hand at each rail as I walked the stairs. She only did it for me.

I'm going to miss you, Kita.

Peace
--Free

Effects of Overstimulation

This is something I'm seriously starting to look into. If anyone knows about it, I'd sure like to hear your thoughts. Here goes:

I live with someone who is really dear to me, but is driving me nuts. Sadly, she suffers from depression (I think it's okay to put that out there), and she's been receiving treatment for years. I haven't been the most understanding friend about the problem.

What drives me crazy is that she has to have some kind of noise or activity happening around her all the time. She's not an active person, funny enough. For months, I've thought what irritates me is her lack of motivation and energy. We used to work together and hang out during our time off. I was never bothered by her then.

The other day, it dawned on me what the problem is: there's no peace around her. It's as if she doesn't know how to operate her body's "off" switch. All day, the TV must be on. At night, lights are on - and, often, a radio.

I remember telling her once that the reason I don't watch a lot of television is because I need time to hear my own thoughts. Besides, how do you get anything done if you're sitting in front a television 80% of your day?

Now, here's why I'm curious about overstimulation: what if she is making her problems with depression worse? How do I approach her with the suggestion? And why the hell hasn't her care provider talked about this with her? That is, assuming I'm onto something - and I just might be.

This post at Health Central indicates I'm right about the effects my friend's behavior is having on the both of us.

I was interested in this post because I have my own sensitivity issues because of my creative tendencies. Living with someone like my friend sort of traps me in her environment. I suppose that, if we can, we're going to have to work out some kind of compromise - that or completely change our living situations.

My concern is - whether I change my situation or not - what will happen to my friend?

Another part of her personality is that she is highly addictive - to food, beverages, cigarettes. I don't even think they are tied to pleasure so much as distraction. For instance, she goes shopping several times a week. There are groceries literally crammed into the fridge and cabinets - for one person. (I have a dorm fridge.) She doesn't just smoke, she smokes three different brands and usually keeps all three packs open at the same time. She loves diet soda, so she buys them a couple a cases at a time. We used to go to Sunday dinners at my family home and she'd carry a few sodas with her and trot to smoke a cigarette about every fifteen minutes.

As a former smoker, I understand tobacco addiction, but she takes it to an extreme that I almost can't fathom. She can't sleep through a night for getting up to have a cigarette. What's frightening is that I've seen her sitting up in the center of her bed - cigarette and lighter in hand - head drooping in a nod-off. And this is all through the night. I can honestly say that I have never known her to go sleep completely through a night. She can't. She's either got to get up and run to the bathroom several times or have a smoke.

It was just a couple weeks ago that I started thinking about the over stimulation. I had start finding out a way to block the light and smoke from my room at night. (I lay towels across the bottom of the door.) Her room is directly across the hall from mine so, to block out the sound of the radio or her heavy trotting to and from the bathroom next to my room, I keep my browser open all night to Rainy Moods. Finally, I was like, My god! Do you ever rest your brain? And that's what got me thinking about all this.

Is it a cycle, possibly? You get depressed so you distract yourself then  >>>  You're so distracted you can't function productively then   >>>>  You get depressed because you aren't progessing in life >>> And on on on.

So, am I onto something here? Maybe. I'm going to think of ways to have my friend consult her caregivers with the idea.

Not to be cruel, but all this made me think of the quote that defines insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. (I'm serious when I say that describes my last relationship.) The thing is, in the case of my friend, her main problem is her depression and inertia. Since there are people who are supposed to be helping her then, as a friend, I need to figure out how to push that issue.

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Writing Contest at Amazon

I should have posted this as soon as I learned about it. Sorry.

There is a contest going on at Amazon. It's their Breakthrough Novel Award Contest.

Submissions are going to be accepted in 5 areas of writing:

  1. General Fiction (I almost typed "friction"!)
  2. Mystery/Thriller
  3. Science Fiction/Fantasy/Horror
  4. Romance, and
  5. Young Adult Fiction

If interested, hurry and check out the rules and details soon because the dates to submit are rushing up fast.

Good luck!

Peace
--Free

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Mama Ate Clay Dirt. I Ate Ice.

So... I read that poorly written, stereotype-pushing, trash of a paper, the UK Daily Mail. Yeah. I also watch the Real Housewives shows and tell myself I do it so that I know what kind of woman not to be. Whatever.

Anyway, I glanced at the DM a while ago and noticed this story about women who eat dirt. An image of my mother flashed through my memory. She was taking out a pan of clay dirt that she'd baked in the oven. I remembered how she'd almost gone through withdrawals when she was no longer able to get more of the stuff. My aunts used to mail it to her from Arkansas and Texas. When one of them contacted her to tell her there was no more "good, clean" dirt to be found, I think Mama went into a sort of mourning. Boy, she missed getting those packages in the mail.

(By the way, I wanted to write this post before I actually read the DM article so that everything I'm posting isn't contaminated (heh heh) by the news story.)

As crazy as it sounds that my mother ate dirt - and it was, I believe, more of a clay substance - I read somewhere that it's the minerals in the dirt that people crave. Mama ate that red dirt until she was about 50. I don't know when she started, but I know it's when she was young. In our family, we used to joke that a gravelly-looking birthmark on my little brother's temple was from all the dirt Mama ate. I guess she craved the dirt (or clay) most when she was pregnant. Sort of makes sense, when you think of minerals and cravings...

I love the part of Psalms that speaks of our bodies as being "wonderfully made." We are amazing creatures. Weird too.

For years I used to chew ice. I think that habit started when I was in my late teens. I drove people around me crazy with my ice-chewing. Any time I spent around my nieces and nephews, they complained about my crunch-crunch-crunching. Thinking back, I guess it was pretty annoying.

I chewed so much ice, I did damage to a couple of my back teeth. My habit was so bad at one point that I became an ice connoisseur. Ice from the fridge was too hard and chunky. Bagged ice was no good either because it was not uniform enough. The best ice was that from fountain drink machines: not too hard or soft and with just the right amount of crunch.

Weirdest of all about this habit of mine was that I was constantly cold. That didn't stop my cravings. It's as if the colder I got, the more I craved ice. And I shivered all that time, whether I was on an ice binge or not. Sometimes, I shivered so violently that could shake whatever chair or bed I was on. I did realize I was anemic and I did take iron pills. Since I was never sick otherwise, I never thought to mention it to a doctor.

Think the strangeness ends there? My mother had a distant cousin who craved cornstarch. I guess this is back when people bought the stuff in it's cakey-powdery form. Family lore is that this relative bought cornstarch as a part of her regular diet the way other people keep milk or butter or eggs around.

Guess what? Turns out that my habit (and my relative's) might point to signs of medical or nutritional conditions. 

Huh.

The interesting thing in my case is that, when I was hospitalized for my sarcoidosis, I happened to have one of my shivering fits when some of my doctors were present. I was too loopy from the sarc then to tell you now what they had to say about it, but I know that they considered it part of the symptoms I was exhibiting. The only thing I liked about being in the hospital was discovering they had a blanket warmer. Those wonderful nurses that I had practically wheeled that bad boy right up to my door. After my initial stabilizing treatments for sarc, my shivering (and ice cravings) went away. I can't even imagine chewing on ice now.

I just find it so interesting how our bodies try expressing diseases and issues. Usually, we only listen when our bodies are telling us about things like hunger, thirst and fatigue. I wish I had paid more attention to my cravings and habits years ago. Who knows - I might have been diagnosed before my sarcoidosis got so out of hand.

So, if you know someone who has odd craving, you might want to have them mention it the next time they see a doctor. My mother never did, probably because she was embarrassed or didn't find it important.

Now I'm going to go and read this article about the other women who eat dirt.

Peace
--Free

Saturday, January 18, 2014

***REVIEW*** 4 Naturals Afro Stretch Curl Cream

4 Naturals Afro Stretch Curl Cream. Make a note of it. It's some good stuff. If this were a 5-star rating system, I'd give this product a 6.

For the ladies rocking their natural hair, if you are like me and find that your hair dries out after several hours or overnight, you might fall in love with this curl cream. I also love that it helps enhance my natural curl pattern and - of course - eliminating the shrinkage. And for anyone asking about the "shrinkage" thing, here ya go:

As someone said: "The shrinkage is real!"
Does it Work?
Now, I'm not looking for the kind of stretch shown in that pic. My TWA is still pretty teeny. I just needed something to bring my curl pattern and get rid of the dryness. When I first tried the cream, I used it on clean, dry hair. Results? Amazing! My hair was moist, but not greasy. My curl pattern took a little work because I didn't follow the instructions about working the product from scalp to ends. Once I used the correct procedure, I could literally watch the change happening as I worked each section of hair.

My Warnings
When I tried applying the product to my hair still damp from a wash, I didn't like it. The main problem here was that I couldn't tell when I was using too much of the cream on one spot. When applied to my dried hair, I had a better sense of the change in moisture and curl pattern. After applying to my damp hair, I ended up with a over-saturated mess. Yuck. I didn't want to let all the cream I'd used just go washing down the drain, so I did a roll-tuck style for a couple of days, tying my hair in t-shirt material at night. I finally got rid of some of the saturation, but, boy - with this cream, a little really does go a long way. You've been warned.

With most products, you can ignore the directions. Like me, you might think it's not that big a deal in how you apply this cream - as long as it gets on your hair, right? Wrong.  Take the time to apply it to sections of your hair and make sure you work it through properly. It took about fifteen minutes for me (probably because I was busy watching TV talking on the phone!). After working it through, I checked my hair, feeling for dry sections and looking for places where the curl pattern was off. It's worth the time because I can get through a couple of days without having to apply any more cream. When I take off my satin hair-wrap in the morning, I have to spend just a couple minutes styling my hair. I will just use my fingers (dampened with a little water if needed) to stretch the curls a bit. If I sleep without my wrap, I might have to use a little-itty bit more cream.

Ingredient information
I read some of the reviews on the 4 Naturals site and have to agree that some hair types might not get much "stretch." I didn't, but the moisturizing benefits make this product a keeper for me. And, because I know that many women are concerned with what is and isn't in the hair products they use, here is the ingredients list I found on the jar in the order given:

(* the links are to more info on an ingredient)


On the front of the jar, other claims: no harsh alcohols, paraben and dye free, no petroleum, mineral oil or silicone.

Misc
I really like that 4 Naturals designed the container to show clearly which hair type the product is for. This one: "4 Kinky - Coily".  And, by the way, this is a Bronner Bros product. I got mine at Sally's Beauty when I returned another two products that didn't work for me. This stuff runs around $10 for the 6 ounces I got. Sounds pricey, but because I can use this so sparingly, it's cheaper in the long run than other products that just haven't worked.

This particular product is for Kinky-Coily, Type 4 hair that tends toward dryness. I'm no expert, but I think that it might be too heavy for some of you ladies. Again, I love that the product site has good information, like this.

I didn't think to take Before & After photos until after I had done my hair again tonight. I will do an update soon. In the meantime, I'm going to be on the lookout for someone who's used products similar to this one.

Peace
--Free


Thursday, January 16, 2014

Alternative Cleansers for the Skin

An acquaintance of mine was asking the other day about things I use on my skin. She's having problems with adult acne and blotching. I had mentioned that I don't use soaps on my face or neck. Ever. guess she didn't want to check out the blog posts I've done about my skincare routine. Whatever. This is what I told her, and if I missed anything, well, she should have read all my posts. (By the way, most of what I learned, that didn't come from my mama, came from other blogs and skincare sites.)

  • Oil - olive, coconut, sesame, cactus. I've even used Crisco if there was nothing else around. (I don't use Vaseline or other petroleum jellies just because they feel way too heavy.) 
  • Baking soda
  • Brown or raw sugar
  • Coconut Milk (this is a recent addition to my skincare routine)
With the oils, what I do is apply one of them and massage until my hands get tired. For removing eye makeup with the oils, I apply it with my fingers (gently), let it sit for a moment, then blot with a baby wipe. I apply again and then wipe remaining traces of the makeup as gently as I can. (I pay attention to the warnings about not pulling and stretching the skin in the eye area.) I did try using my Jamaican Black Castor Oil as a cleanser, but it can be sticky (at least, the Mango & Lime brand I use) and I don't like the way my skin pulled when as I tried to apply the oil.

When I use baking soda, I only use it on areas where I have issues with blackheads. I make a paste with a few drops of water and dab the mixture onto my nose and chin. With as little pressure as possible, I do circular motions on the problem spots. I make sure to rinse away every little bit of the paste. If you try this, don't even think about rubbing the skin dry. Blot, blot, blot - which is best no matter how you choose to clean your skin. Blot it and then let air do the rest.

The sugar is not really something I use to cleanse my skin. I mainly just use this for exfoliating my lips. I have tried dabbing honey on my face, tapping on some sugar and letting it sit for a few minutes as a moisturizing mask, but I once got sugar in my eye and.... Well, I just use the sugar as a lip scrub now.

Like I said, the coconut milk is a new thing I'm trying. I originally heard about using it on natural hair as a conditioner. I actually love using it to flavor my coffee, tea and cocoa drinks. I can't remember what made me think to use it on my face except maybe wanting that wonderful smell to be on my skin. What I do is warm some in the palm of my hand, then dab it all over my face. I massage it in, enjoy the delicious smell while I kill time filing my fingernails or something. I remove it with a warm rinse of water. I can't really say yet what it does for my skin (except make it feel super-soft), but it's a very relaxing routine. And that amazing smell! Ummm... I'd just love to be able to afford taking a whole-body bath in that stuff! 

I love that baby wipes are so inexpensive and versatile. Other than baby wipes or the oldest, softest towels, I try not to use anything else on my face and neck. 

As a side note, let me explain why I don't use baby oil on my face: it's just too, too oily. With the other oils (especially cactus oil), you don't get that greasy feeling left behind. Cactus oil is about to become more of a fave than coconut or JBCO for everyday use on my skin. Great absorbency and makes the skin feel more hydrated than oily.

And that's it. Nothing too fancy. I don't deny that I keep some Avon Anew around (along with some Walmart or Walgreen brand sunscreen) but, if I had to give up one or the other, I'd keep the oils and milk. If you look at a lot of products on the market, you'll notice they incorporate a lot of "natural" items. My question is: why would I pay so much for all the fillers and preservatives if I can just cut right to the good stuff? Or, ask yourself this: Could you use your face-care products to cook and/or flavor your food with as well? If it's too toxic to put inside you, why put it on you at all?

I'm just saying.

The great thing about most of these skincare items is that many women can use them on their hair as well. On that subject, I don't know for sure, but I'd think that women who have or wear their hair straight (non-kinky) could use the oils as wash-out conditioning treatments. 

Peace
--Free

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

"American Pimp"

Well.

Watched this film - American Pimp - the other night, courtesy of Netflix. Feel like I wasted one of my 2-DVDs for the month.

I've always judged anything - books, music, film, art - by the way I feel when I've walked away. I don't mind feeling disturbed. Usually, when something disturbs me, it at least has made me think. Thinking is good. What I hate is when something disturbs me to the point of disgust, where I feel like a lesser (though maybe better informed) person.

"American Pimp" was informative, but it disturbed me in a very negative way. I felt like it re-enforced every negative thought I've had about certain types of people. Bolstering stereotypes is never a good thing.

As a woman, I felt sorry for my black and white sisters allowing themselves to be used by such inadequate men. The film never touched on what circumstances led these women to be with these low-life (yes, I'm about to say it) niggers.

Let me explain what I was taught the word "nigger" means: a person with a heart full of selfish darkness. My mother would tell me to respond to someone calling me nigger by asking how they knew anything about my character. Nigger is one of the ugliest words known to my mind, but I know that there are some people in every race, nationality and culture who gives the word it's usual meaning. For instance, there was a white guy (one) shown in the film. I know that some folks will say that he, as owner of a legalized brothel, was at least being responsible in his pimping duties. His "girls" had healthcare, made great wages and were allowed the right to refuse service. I say that, if the women working at his brothel had so much control, they wouldn't need a pimp. I think he just got off on owner's privileges.

The whole time I watched this film, I kept waiting to see something about the pimps - other than their selfish motivation for living life without ever punching a time-clock. The biggest confusion for me was - what the hell did they have going for them to entice women to work for them? They were not super-smooth talkers, or even that great-looking (except for one guy, Danny, who is the spitting image of one of my brothers, help me, Jesus) and they weren't especially articulate. Other than being personally in love with one of them, I just couldn't see being persuaded to do more than fix them a decent meal every now and then. If they were starving and begging on the streets. Maybe not even then, not with their attitudes.

If I even did want to give these guys any credit, I couldn't. I mean, if they were smart, they would be better organized and run their pimping more like a business. I heard one of them mention the lack of retirement and healthcare benefits. So... you're smart, soul-less and brazen enough to pimp women, but you're not smart enough to set yourself up for old age? (And don't tell me that I should look in a mirror. I never have worn enough gold or had a closet full of suits I could use to pay off a damn mortgage.)

I don't even want to get started on the fact that these so-called pimps actually have an annual ball. I'm being so serious. It's called the "Players Ball." I. wanted. to. cry. I was looking at this ridiculousness and thinking about how other people fought for freedom and equality and human rights, but no one is talking about them everyday. No one is making it accepted to be smarter, braver and more compassionate, but, boy, start calling someone a "baller," "player" or "shot-caller" and just watch the cameras flash.

Basically, this film was almost a total waste of the time and energy I spent watching. "Almost", only because it reminded me that not all men with this "pimp" mentality are out there putting women on the street. Some guys bring the same attitude and emotional depth (not!) into relationships, marriages and parenthood. Some women bring the "ho" attitude. And some people think this is cute or something. By the way, I'm not letting the women in this film go without some blame, but the focus was on the pimps.

Not to be sanctimonious about it - because I know that there are women who've not had my blessings - but I think I'd just rather be hungry than whored out. And, if I was going to sell myself, the only person I'd be feeding with the proceeds would be me. If I ever had to work the streets that way, I think I'd rather go the solo route: owner and operator, me.

"American Pimp" made me embarrassed to have 'American' in the damn title. That it focused almost entirely on black pimps just made me cringe.

I'm not wanting to knock the work of any film-maker (or any other type artist), but where is the worth in something like this?

I can't change that people know more about pimps, slutty celebs and anyone else who pisses on human potential but I can make my own wall of heroes.

There are too many people on this planet trying to do something positive. I hope I never again waste a moment of my time watching something like "American Pimp."

Peace
--Free