MARCH 2011 TOP 10 BEAUTY PRODUCTS

Every girl who wears makeup should be meticulous about her products. I'm not half as invested in cosmetics or beauty products in general, as many other females out there. This is due to my laziness and penny-pinching tendencies. I'm horrible when it comes to cosmetic collections, particularly my main weapon of choice: MAC Cosmetics. For instance, their Wonder Woman Collection is pretty stellar.

To be honest, though, I would pay more money for the promo posters that they used at the counter than pay $20 for a lip gloss. I'll admit that the lip glosses are jumbo-sized. They reminded me of those big, fatty pencils that you used in elementary school. I liked the green and blue eyeshadows, but ever since I jumped on the Coastal Scents eyeshadow palette bandwagon, I have a hard time spending over $10 on an eyeshadow --especially if it's one color when I already have an array of colors. WITH THE EXCEPTION of NARS. I think they have one of the best eyeshadows out there. I don't like buying into collections such as MAC's because sometimes they come out with colors/products solely for the collection. If you fall in love with a product, you can hope that they'll come out with that beautiful pink lip gloss that you cannot live without sometime later OR you can pay a fortune and purchase the product via eBay. Anyways, continuing on, and in no particular order:

1. CETAPHIL FACE WASH: FOR NORMAL TO OILY SKIN --$ Varies from store to store, but it's usually somewhere between $9.00-11.00

Having used Clean&Clear, Neutrogena, and even Pro-Activ, I can honestly say that Cetaphil has been great. Pro-Activ seemed to make my skin better and then plateau out. Neutrogena was horrible and Clean&Clear was like a fair-weather friend --worked every once in a while, but when it flaked on me, I wasn't surprised.

2. MAC COSMETICS: STUDIO FIX FOUNDATION --$26.50

The Studio Fix Foundation has been great for me. It has good coverage, something that is very beneficial for people like me --people with naturally oily skin.

3. MAC COSMETICS: MINERALIZE SKINFINISH POWDER --$28.00

This has great coverage, though not as heavy/full as the Studio Fix foundation powder. It's supposed to "mimic" your natural skin.

4. MAC COSMETICS: BLACKTRACK FLUIDLINE --$15.00

I cannot even begin to express how much I love this product. It lasts all day and is really easy to work with once you get acclimated to using a brush when applying eyeliner. They say to store it upside down in order to keep it fresh. Don't ask me why.

5. NARS SINGLE EYESHADOW: MEKONG --$23.00

It's a dark brown/almost black (black if you apply enough) with little gold flecks. It lasts all day. NARS eyeshadows in general are very pigmented and high quality. Paying $23.00 for an eyeshadow?! It BETTER be high quality. My only complaint is that it gets messy when you're running low. It tends to break and turn into dust. This has been my experience with several different eyeshadows, though. Maybe it's because I'm rough and tough on my products, dropping them all over the place and taking them with me back and forth when I travel.

6. ALMAY: MOISTURIZING EYE MAKEUP REMOVER PADS --$7.00-ish

This is a great product if you wear a lot of eye makeup. It's moisturizing, so it does sort of leave an oily residue, but unlike all of the other products I've tried, I don't have to dig into my face to remove all of the makeup. You can swipe it gently and it'll all come off!

7. DUO EYELASH ADHESIVE --$6.49 (at Walgreens)

It dries black and it's the best ever. Period.

8. POND'S WET CLEANSING TOWELETTES: ORIGINAL CLEAN --$5.00-7.00 range

I use this after I use the Almay eye makeup remover pads and then I wash my face. It gets the majority of the foundation, etc. off of my face.

9. MAC COSMETICS: BRUSH CLEANSER --$12.00

You get more of the product for the money you pay than you would if you went to the darkside and went the Sephora route.

10. CARMEX MOISTURIZING LIP BALM: STRAWBERRY --$0.99 (at Walgreens)

This is awesome stuff. I wear it at night and sometimes when I feel like it, before I apply lipstick.

Peace, people.

green bubbly, my love affair.

I have a love affair with Sprite, and it's very strange how this relationship started; I used to hate the drink. The taste used to remind me of Alka-Seltzer Plus, that clear, fizzy liquid that makes your mouth and throat tingle. It was like taking a paddle to my tongue, the tingling sweetness upsetting my stomach a little. When I had a bad kidney infection a few years back, I was in the hospital for 7+ days. I was so sick that I was being fed through tubes. The only things I liked were popsicles and Sprite. Talking about the Hollywood diet.

and hey, sweetie. well, i need you here tonight, and i know that you don't want to be leaving me.

After I got out (I feel like I'm telling you about how I was released from prison or something), Sprite and Sierra Mist became my friends. Not 7-Up for some reason. Just Sprite and Sierra Mist. For a long time, Sierra Mist was my favorite, but after they went "all natural," I have pretty much severed ties and moved onto Sprite. I just love it.

As funny as it will sound, I crave Sprite. When I'm out and about, people will talk about how they're craving something --Korean food, Mexican food, Taco Bell (because I don't consider that Mexican food at all), McDonald's, a burger, sushi, etc. Sometimes, I shrug and say, "I'm craving a Sprite." But it's true. I crave it.

Last night marked 5 months, and the boy showed up at my doorstep to pick me up with a red rose and in his car, waiting for me like a patient lover, was a bottle of Sprite. If you know me well and know how to make me happy, you'll present me with a Sprite at some point in our relationship. Despite popular belief, I'm not an easy person to please. I'm really not. I like familiarity. I like going to the same restaurants and ordering the same dish. Some would call it boring, but I call it preference. Perhaps I lack the "creativity" and "spontaneity" to try new things and new places all the time, but sometimes I prefer the same ole, same ole. Sometimes I don't want to get lost in the crowd. Sometimes I want to sit at the same table, see the same waiters, drink from the same glasses, and even, see the same regulars wandering in. Perhaps I like seeing these people in hopes that I'm not the only boring person out there.

Life has been very busy here lately, but at the same time, I haven't really accomplished much. I've been working on the novel for my novel class, reading the books in my contemporary fiction class, working on my own stuff constantly, spending time with the boy, spending time with my dog, sleeping, daydreaming, sitting at Starbucks, and repeat. Sometimes I want out of this cycle in the sense that I wish I had a flat chest and could pick up running. I think I'd really enjoy running; I like thinking and listening to music. Joyce Carol Oates said that she likes to brainstorm story ideas while running. The woman is amazing. She looks so fragile and handles herself so, and yet she runs on a regular basis. Maybe I should just buckle down and try to run, but in the past it's never worked out. Being blessed with a chest entails back problems and also includes difficulties when it comes to working out and running (sports bras only do so much).

I'm currently sitting at Starbucks beneath the boy's peacoat to avoid freezing, listening to the cruddy, bipolar music they play at Starbucks, perusing the internet, and wasting time in-between working on some stories. Microsoft Word documents hide behind this one as I type. They're tired, coughing probably, rubbing their eyes, wondering when I'll just give it up and put it all away. Never. I see the doctor this Tuesday. I know that I have carpal tunnel. The diagnosis will not surprise me. But don't all writers contract this at some point in their lifetime? If that's the case, then at least I'm doing something right.

cocktail addict; control your substances.

I have a cocktail every morning and it consists of four different kinds of drugs --all prescriptions, by the way. After much agonizing debate, I increased the dosage of my antidepressant. This is the maximum amount, one that isn't exactly common (I was informed by a pharmacist once that it was too much). I'm like a pathetic, battered wife/girlfriend that has, for some unknown reason that outsiders will never comprehend, returned to her abuser. Or I am an addict chasing down my dealer. Either way, I'm the weak tool in the scenario. The other day my mom and I were talking about jobs that will always be around. Aside from psychiatrist/general physician, I said, "Pharmaceutical sales."

Whenever I think about drugs, particularly anything used in the psychiatric field, I think about the movie,  The Invasion. It has Nicole Kidman in it and there is a phrase that is in the middle of a dinner scene, said by a Russian man, and repeated again at the very end of the film. At some point during the dinner, he turns to Nicole Kidman, who is portraying a psychiatrist, and asks, "Are you going to give me a little pill so I can see the world differently?" (Don't quote me on that. It was something along those lines.) That entire movie isn't really about the invasion of the human race as much as it is about "fixing" the world so that we are all happy. Kidman's character is constantly being told that it's better (by the people already turned). When she is hiding on the subway, a guy tells her that they (the people already turned) can be fooled. "Don't show emotion," he says. "That way they can't tell who is who." (Again, don't quote me on that.) But back to the Russian and his rant about America's solution --drugs.

I struggle with this all the time and have yet to fully come to terms with it. I do believe in clinical depression and I do think that we have been given the technology and minds to battle against it. Perhaps Hemingway, Woolf, Plath, and Sexton, to name a few, would still be alive or would have at least lived a longer life. At the same time, I can't help but be selfish and glad. These are just a few fascinating people, people that have left legacies raping the brains of students everywhere. Art is the spawn of something. Always. Usually, emotion. Had there been the plethora of antidepressants and such at their time, we probably wouldn't have the great pieces of literature that we do. "Lady Lazarus" is the famous poem by Plath and it is about suicide. What if that had never existed? 

Is suffering worth it? Sometimes the greatest things in life --thoughts, ideas, and revelations, occur in the midst of the storm so-to-speak. Depression leads to dwelling. Dwelling basically means thinking negatively, but it means thinking. It's inspiration in so many different forms. I've written some of the best things that I've written during a "high point" in my depression. The adrenaline rush of knowing what you're doing, putting words on paper (or doing whatever your passion is), and being free of it all? It's irreplaceable. But the "low points" were really low, and hard to endure.


I worry that my writing will be hindered, that I will reach that point where I was the last time I was on this same dosage. It's the point where I say nothing. I ignore people. I embrace isolation and most importantly, I don't feel anything. I mean, I DO feel, but it's padded, like muffled noises in the next room. Everyone tells me that they'll point out any change in my behavior that they notice, because nobody wants to be around a zombie. But for now, I'm hanging on dearly to that abusive husband while doing the best I can to hide the bruises.

stuck; take me with you.

A lifetime. For the most part, it sounds like a hefty amount of time, but if a lifetime is the span of a person's life, and that said person dies young, then a lifetime suddenly becomes something completely different. It's just an interval of the universe, a speck, really, when someone exists. Even if you live to be 100, a lifetime isn't that long. Here in the 21st century, there is an order. Sometimes I think we're so busy trying to meet the requirements that we forget the things that were made for us to enjoy along our path --good food, dare I say it --people, love, and happiness. Get through school. Get a job. Find someone. Marry them. Quickly. Have children. Have more children. Work. Retire. Die.

Because of our limited "lifetimes" and the expectations of what we do while we're breathing, I think that is why people retreat to the world of vampires and in general, immortality. It's fascinating. Death is something we all think about at some point or another and if you say that you've never feared it, you're a fool or a liar. Today, I opened up a checking account and the girl asked me if I wanted to "opt in" or "opt out" --going ahead and over-spending with a $25 fee, or being declined if I don't have enough money. I opted out. But what if we could opt out of death?

"the broken clock is a comfort; it helps me sleep at night."

I'm not sure how I'd feel if the entire world was without time. In many ways, time is a good thing. I know for me, I require deadlines in order to get anything completed. It's like I need the rush to cross the finish line. Time also enables us, or at least, it should, emphasize the moments in life that are the happiest and make us appreciate them. We "waste" a lot of time, but what does that mean?

The boy and I were watching a movie last night and at some point, I looked at him and asked, "What if we stayed twenty-three forever? Like, we woke up and just stopped aging. What would we do?" Of course, the first thing he said was, "Make a lot of money." When money is an issue, I guess you're always bound to think about it first, but I thought about how wonderful it would be to be with someone that long --to share that trait with someone you love. He thought about it and added, "We'd travel. We'd travel all over the world." I nodded and thought for a moment. "But wouldn't you be sad too?" I asked. He looked at me quizzically and asked, "Why?" I shrugged and replied, "Because, you'll remain this age forever, but you'll watch all the people you love, die. I mean, I'd live forever too, but your family and all that. You could do nothing but watch it happen." 

And is that the punishment? The part that gives? In some ways, I think I could live with this --as long as I had someone to share the immortality with. Death is always hard on the people left behind and I wonder what that would feel like, to feel "left behind" by the people you love very much, to beg them, "Take me with you." When R moved to California, that's how I felt --initially. I've gotten over it since it's obvious he's too busy to talk to me now. But moving across the country or across the world, even, is different from completely leaving it. You literally are left behind, and there is no bus, train, plane, or automobile that can bridge the gap. Only a lifetime can. 

Everything has its downfalls. Perhaps time or mortality are what make life what it is. Maybe they're the reasons why we love and love so deeply or in general, feel the things we feel. Suffering is great, but overcoming is a triumph. A broken heart is painful, but finding someone to love it anyway is phenomenal. Finding someone to love you is phenomenal, period. What if the boy and I were really immortal? Would we feel the same way that we do now? Would we cuddle up and laugh and talk? Why do we do those things in the first place? Would we stay together? Would anyone?

a childish wish.

I like to imagine these things --the impossible. If I know you and trust you, I will ask you hypothetical questions, such as the one I asked the boy last night. I am curious to know what people will say. It tells me a lot about them. It tells me a lot about myself too. I like coming up with scenarios and I think I realized last night that I do it not so much because I want them to really happen, but instead, I ask because it's a consolation to my fears. It's good to know that I'm not the only one who fears death or thinks about it or wonders if I'm using my time wisely. And that's something that I wouldn't have if I were immortal. Commonality. It's not even a "trait" as much as it is a human fear --a band of emotions coming together neatly or as neatly as possible, for others to see. So I guess it is scary to know that our time is limited here and that we will follow those who have already left, but it's even more terrifying to think that such a remarkable occurrence in a lifetime will skip us. Perhaps that sounds too noble. 

At least in death, we're not stuck. It's moving forward --to what, I can't describe for you in flowery prose.  Would you believe me anyways? 

The uncertainty is what keeps us thinking, guessing, wishing, dreaming, and dreading. It's what keeps us alive to an extent. Time is simply its mask.

you bring me dreams; you bring me nightmares.

My Macbook Pro arrived --finally! Thus far, it has proven to be a worthy investment. I ended up paying less than $1500 for it. Apple had some great deals. GOOD-BYE, DELL!! I couldn't help but be turned on by the 10 hour battery that Apple offers. Henry's backlit keyboard isn't bad either. (Yes, I named my laptop.)

Thursday night I went out and celebrated with the boy for his birthday. We went to a restaurant called Nagasaki and had an awesome night of shrimp tempura, spicy tuna roll, soup, and salad, and the "geisha dinner." Afterwards, we went to an Irish pub downtown where we sat outside and listened to a hit-or-miss playlist of music on the patio as we watched passersby. I love people-watching. The boy kept asking me if everything was okay because I kept "turning away" from him, but it was my tendency to people-watch and take in the city-like scene. I say city-like because we were in one of two metros in the state, so it's not like Chicago or the Big Apple, but it is livelier than our hometown.

Yesterday, we headed back to the same metro so that the boy could finally purchase the iPhone 4. I think he had a pretty good birthday. I got him the last two books that he needed to complete the Harry Potter series, made him a birthday cookie with a Gryffindor crest made out of icing. It's convenient to have a professional cake maker/designer as a cousin.

The rain was inconsistent yesterday, a tease, really. I love the rain. I love fall weather. I'm so glad that we're out of August. I think it's the worst month as far as humidity goes. Cheers to autumn.

write me the things that you've seen.

I've been writing letters recently. One to R all the way in California is currently under construction. The boyfriend said that he'd like a letter too. Maybe I'll oblige. We'll see.

To say the least, I love the old-fashioned way of communication. I like writing letters and receiving them (when they're not envelopes screaming from the student loan companies or school demanding tuition). The best parts about handwritten letters are the mistakes --scratches and scribbles, arrows, corrections, and crooked alignment, to name a few.

"have faith in me cause there are things that i've seen i don't believe."

I remember when penpals were the thing. There was just something exciting about writing to designated people across the universe. Now you can't be too careful; you might be writing a potential homicidal maniac. But still, I think technology and in general, our sense of time and societal pressure to have things done by yesteryear, have all contributed to the death of writing letters. The social studies lesson is over, I promise.

R will enjoy his letter. He's the type to appreciate handwritten sentiments. He's the type to bust out with a quill and a roll of parchment, but law school is already taking its toll, and I don't expect him to write me back. Sometimes I just like writing to write. Perhaps it's because I know that for certain, someone is listening or reading so-to-speak.

Classes begin on Monday. I'm pretty sure that my novel class is going to kick my ass.