Keeping Up Appearances

My passion for makeup is third only to shoes and handbags. I've been collecting makeup since before I can remember and that tube of hot pink lipstick in my bathroom drawer (circa 1992) will vouch for me. Before you judge me for having an unsanitary tube of twenty year old lipstick, know that I have researched the shelf lives of makeup products and abide closely by them. This lipstick is an exception as it originally was my grandmother's and it was my first tube of lipstick, the catalyst for my addiction.

You would think, knowing that, I would wear new makeup looks all the time and always have my appearance together in the facial region. Well, you would think that, but you would be wrong. Not only do I not try out new makeup looks frequently, but I'm not even sure when the last time I wore makeup was. I love makeup and I love to play with it. As far as my daily beauty regime though, it just doesn't make the cut. While I was never a, "I don't leave the house without makeup" kind-of-girl, and I have been known to go bare-faced to work a time or two, I used to take pride in my appearance. That's not to say I place appearance above all else; however in today's society you must admit it matters.

What's the point of this incoherent rambling? You want to know what gave me this inspiration?

Wendy's. Yes, I'm talking fast-food burgers and fries, Where's the beef?, You know when it's real, Wendy's. After one of my mom's monthly, three hour long doctor's appointment, we opted for a fast bite to eat. Before you judge me again, I only had a measly kid's hamburger and soda. It could have been a lot worse. Anyway, the drive-thru line was backed up for days, so I decided it would be quicker to run inside. I walked right up to the counter to place my order with the cashier, a girl in her late-teens.

Momentarily, I was taken aback. It wasn't because of her hostile demeanor; I expected that. It wasn't the red of her hair, which resembled cartoon Wendy from the sign. It was her appearance, in a good way. Her pale complexion, which enabled her to make that red hair work, was fresh and smooth. Her foundation was applied in a natural way with just a hint of color splashed on her cheeks. She was sporting minimal eyeshadow, but had opted for a cat-eye look with winged black liquid eyeliner. And for the cherry on top of the Frosty, she sported full, fluffy, false eyelashes.

My initial reaction was that it was a little over-done for working at Wendy's. There's nothing wrong with working at fast-food joints; it's just unexpected to be served by Miss America. But then I thought, why not? Maybe we all need to take a cue from little Miss Wendy's. Just because we aren't out doing exactly what we'd love to be doing, doesn't mean we can't make the best of the situation. It doesn't mean we shouldn't present ourselves in the best way we know how. Shouldn't we always be putting our best foot forward?

Image courtesy of ahmet guler.

Lazy Is Such An Ugly Word

I do not like the word lazy. I feel like lazy is such an ugly word; it is a four letter word after all. I really don't like the fact that lately, I could describe myself as lazy. Recently, it seems that nothing motivates me enough to get anything done or things are just too overwhelming to even begin.

My intentions are always good. The problem may be that my ideas are just too big. I don't know where to begin. Writing has always been a release for me, so I decided to try my hand at really writing, like novel writing. From short stories, to even shorter blog posts, I'm obviously going in the wrong direction. Maybe novel writing is biting off more than I can chew at this point, especially with my newly found lazy demeanor. On the other hand, maybe it's the perfect thing to make me wake up and smell the coffee.

Considering I can barely get off the couch long enough to do the dishes some days, I doubt a novel will start magically flowing from my fingers. Realizing this, lazy strikes again and I don't even know where to begin. Instead, my attention turns to the TV and I find myself in the same spot on the couch for hours, sometimes unblinking.

I can roughly pinpoint when I caught lazy. Shortly after I quit my job and re-located to be with my then-fiance, I found myself getting less and less done. Also, I was sleeping a ton! It didn't take long to make our apartment cozy and homey so I quickly ran out of things to do. While I was job searching in the beginning, it was only a half-hearted attempt. It wasn't long until I was on a full-fledged mission to find a job though. Any job would do just to inject some structure into my life.

I began working a part-time retail job which wasn't so great, but I enjoyed actually having to be somewhere a few times a week. When I wasn't working, I knew that I had to use my time off wisely to get things done. Lazy was fading fast. Not to toot my own horn, but I would say I have an outstanding work ethic. My employers noticed this too, and eventually I was working four or five days a week. While I enjoyed the extra income and store discount, it didn't make up for the erratic schedule and, at times, hostile work environment. Lazy began flaring up again.

With the hours I was working, I again lacked structure and though I spent lots of time working, I spent little time getting anything else done. That's when my mom's accident and cancer diagnosis came in.

I was no longer working and spending almost every waking second with her. At that point, I wasn't getting anything done, but I was just focused on being with my mom. Eventually, things progressed with my mom's health and I began to regain a sense of normalcy in my life.

Currently, my life still lacks structure though and I think that's a huge culprit of the lazy. Tuesday through Thursday I stay with my with mom, and spend most of my time taking her to appointments and running errands. Friday, I make the two and a half hour drive back home to be with my new husband. I stay there through Monday until it's time to make the long drive back to be with my mom again. I'm so exhausted by the time I get to either place, it's like pulling teeth trying to get myself to do simple household chores. Whether it's cooking, cleaning, or grocery shopping, it all seems as daunting as writing that novel.

So I have to ask; what motivates you? What do you do when you're feeling overwhelmed? Where do I begin?

What happens now that TheShoppingGirl can count everything she shopped for in the last two months on one hand? *Gasp*

Thank you to nuttakit for the provided image.

No, This Isn't My New Year's Resolution

I'm guessing the blogosphere is abuzz right about now. I'm sure millions of new bloggers joined the scene and a million more bloggers (like myself) who fell off the blog-wagon are jumping back on thanks to the New Year and its pesky resolutions.

Well, blogging isn't my New Year's Resolution. This is because New Year's Resolutions are a like promise just waiting to be broken. It is estimated that only 12% of people actually achieve their resolutions each year. I don't like those odds.

Years ago I proclaimed that I will no longer be making New Year's Resolutions because making them is almost the same as saying "I will not accomplish this goal." I haven't made a New Year's Resolution since. *I would like to make clear that it was not a New Year's Resolution to no longer make New Year's Resolutions, just a pure statement. Otherwise, you may try to claim irony in that, that was the one New Year's Resolution I actually kept.*

I'm back to blogging just for pure self-fulfilment. I've tried my hand at it twice before and never got into a rythmn. Here's to the old "third time's a charm" credo!

If any blogger out there (old or new) has any helpful tips on obtaining a blogging rythmn, please do share.

Long Live Queen Ding-Dong

This post ties back into my post I. Want. A. Job. As I was saying before, I really want a job, even just a little something. (Although, I know as soon as I get a job, I will be saying the opposite).

Anyway, last night I decided to check Craigslist for open jobs in my area. I have always been a little hesitant looking for jobs on Craigslist because you never know what you might get. Beyond that, companies don't list their names on Craigslist, so you can't do your research and you don't know what you're signing up for.

I decided because everywhere else I was looking, I was out of leads, I might as well give Craigslist a chance. A found a job posted that day that sounded great. It was part-time, working at a physical therapy practice. I decided my skill set truly fit with what they were looking for and proceeded to reply to their posting.

In my last post about job hunting, I mentioned that I like to write a very specific cover letter for each position, but was sick of writing them and always felt they were never just right. I went back to the drawing board though and made this as pertinent as I could with the two sentence job description I had been provided. I actually thought it was a success. (Of course, I still haven't heard anything back.)

While I was applying for this great opportunity, I decided to see if I could find anything else worth applying for. I found four other positions that seemed to have potential, so I figured I would apply to them as well. (As I said, I've been applying to tons of positions and haven't heard more than a word or two back from anywhere. I don't understand when or how I became such an untouchable.) Moving on, I decided the cover letter I had written for the physical therapy position was a strong enough blanket cover letter, since I had little information to go off of from the postings. Here is where the trouble began.

I tapped reply to the next job and copy and pasted my previous email. I changed the job description in which I referenced and did a quick once over to make sure I took out anything else that referred to a physical therapy practice. It looked good! Off I sent it. I repeated this process three other times and then jumped into bed. It was after midnight by this point.

This morning I woke up expecting to hear nothing back, but hoping all the same that I would. My phone rang around 9:30, but it was my fiance's set ringtone, so though I was happy he called, disappointment still hit that it wasn't a future employer. After ending my conversation with Chris, I thumbed through my BlackBerry for emails. Some junk, nothing good. I was going to crawl back in bed for awhile to read or watch TV, but my phone blinked red, indicating that I had a new email.

I scanned down and I couldn't believe it was for the Administrative Assistant position that I had applied to just the night before. The posting had been old, so I didn't get my hopes up, thinking they may just be telling me that it had been filled. At this point, I was so excited at the thought that someone would even bother to tell me that, because that was a first. I excitedly opened the email and read only a short phrase.

We don't have a physical therapy practice...

I gasped. Instead of aiming myself back towards the bed, I scurried to my computer to assess the damage. There it was, right in the first paragraph. I had neglected to take out that I would be an asset to their physical therapy practice. I meant company! I meant company, whichever one you were!

My stomach churned. I immediately replied. I wasn't sure that that was the right choice. My letter mentions how great I am at attention to detail. (I swear, I am extremely detail-oriented. It was midnight. I was in panic mode that I would never find a job. I knew I should have written a job specific cover letter. Shame on me.) But I replied anyway, apologizing for the mistake, hoping that deep down they would decide that everybody makes mistakes, but it takes a strong person to admit they are wrong, especially to an prospective employer. (I haven't heard anything back there either, nor do I expect to.)

After an attempt at damage control, I opted to recall the other three pending letters. Because it was sent through Craigslist, it can't be recalled. A new reason to not like Craigslist!

So there you have it. This Ding-Dong here applied to four jobs yesterday, telling each how she would be an asset to their physical therapy practice, of which they do not have. I am totally embarrassed, but I'll just have to chalk it up as another lesson learned, laugh at myself, and move on.


On a side note: I've been looking back at my previous number of post each month, and that number keeps declining. My goal is to try to get the number to increase now instead of decrease. Especially since I lost a lovely follower. To those of you who have stuck around: I appreciate your on-going support.

Long Live Queen Ding-Dong!

California, Here We Come

I may not have won the Superbowl, but I'm going to Disneyland anyway. That's right. I'm heading of with my mom and sister for five days to the "Happiest Place on Earth." It's a tradition that our family started when I was only six years old, to go to Disneyland at least once a year. (I say at least, because we have been known to go twice a year on occasion.)

When I was six my beautiful grandmother, Irene, passed away. My grandpa decided the family needed both some cheering up and some bonding time. As soon as summer hit and all the grandkids were out of school, we loaded up my grandpa's old Ford and my parents' new blue van with family. We grandpa led the pack followed by my mom, my sister, and myself. And my mom's only sister brought her three kids, too. In order to take less time off work (and avoid being trapped in a caravan with five noisy kids, their wives, and their father-in-law) my dad and my uncle opted to fly down to California after we have safely arrived.

Plane tickets for everyone would have cost a pretty penny, and those pennies were all coming out of my grandpa's pockets, so we were forced to do things his way. Now, I'm not complaining, because I still have some fond memories of the drive to California with my family. I remember my cousin, Joe, the only boy (besides my grandpa) singing his six year old little heart out, belting out many made up words. I remember having to pull over in the van every ten minutes when my oldest cousin, Dee, was terribly sick to her stomach. She toughed it out with the paper towels and stepped into the shrubbery on the side of the road. You see, we couldn't stop so she could use the restroom, because we were on a strict schedule that my grandpa implemented with much authority. When we had to stop to eat, we stop at Denny's and only Denny's. I think I have been to every Denny's from Washington to California. (No wonder my poor cousin was sick!)

It's been years since my grandpa has left us, but we still continue the tradition. We haven't gone with my aunt and her kids in many years, but they still go occasionally. To this date, I don't believe my uncle and dad ever made it back. They complained about long lines and cranky kids. (They were the cranky ones if you ask me.) It's clear that none of them developed the attachment to Disneyland that my mom, sister, and I have. My mom would live in Disneyland if she could; she could never tire of it. Each time we go, she reverts back to the child still inside her; Disney played such a huge part in her childhood. I think my mom's joy is part of the reason visiting the park is so magical for my sister and myself. We might be old and grown now, but this tradition is one to keep, because the feeling never changes. We like to think that Grandma and Grandpa join us there, too.

Am I Dying to Be Beautiful?

Today has been a day of learning for me. After my shower today, I was so excited to re-discover a lotion from Victoria's Secret that somehow surfaced during the move. I've had it for awhile, but it seemed to still be okay. (I have since checked the shelf life of lotion. It is two to three years, so I'm definitely in the clear.) Anyway, the lotion is the from "beauty rush" line and is the body whip moisture cream, the type that imitates whipped cream. Yes, you tip it upside down and squirt it out just like you were topping a sundae. I love these type of fun beauty products. As a holder of a marketing degree, when I buy a product like this, I feel like I'm rewarding the marketing team and saying, "Job well done. Keep the ideas coming." Because, let's be honest, it's probably not even that great of a lotion, and it's usually overpriced, but I'm paying for the novelty of it. I appreciate the innovation that went into it. I hope to be a part of that someday.

But I'm still not getting to my point. Just a minute, I'm almost there.

When Chris got home from work, I had my lotion on the coffee table. "Don't you like my lotion?" I asked him. "It smells so good and is so much fun!" Chris looked back and me like I was a little crazy, but smiled and said of course he liked it. He picked up the lotion to read the ingredients. As an Environmental Geologist, (whatever that is..j/k) he is really into being green and is always telling me how I'm ruining the planet. (I'm doing much better, Mother Nature. I'm trying. I'm sorry.) Chris hesitates for a moment, so I know what's coming...at least I thought I did. Chris tell me it contains propane and benzyl benzoate. "Yes, that's right, honey," he tells me. You are putting lighter fluid on your legs. I immediately jumped on the defensive and said I didn't care, I like my lotion, and I'm going to use it. But in my head I was imagining myself taking the bottle of lighter fluid from next to the barbeque and lotioning up. How insane is that? So, I'm not so sure I was use this lotion anymore. (I still think it's fun.)

So after that little lesson, I turned to check in on my blogs that I'm following. First, I checked in with Makeup Junkie. (I love makeup. It's one of my shopping addictions, but I've still been pretty successful at repressing my urge to shop lately...must find job soon.) Anyway, Makeup Junkie posted a blog about an article called, The Price of Beauty. The article was interesting, but what really interested me was about Vaseline. Now, I use Vaseline for everything, but I definitely put it on my lips all the time. After reading the article, I found out that when I put Vaseline on my lips, it's like drinking gasoline, I decided before I combust into a fireball adding gasoline to my lighter fluid soaked legs, I should re-think things. I'm not sure the validity of the claim that Vaseline on your lips, including in lip balms, is so bad, that it may even lead to breast cancer, but I'm also not sure that I want to take any chances. Beeswax is supposed to be a good alternative, so I'll stick to my Blistex Fruit Smoothies and the like.