action
yesterday, i bluffed shot my commercial.
location: malibu. lighting: otherworldly.
makeup: concealing.
freckles, eyebrow burns & melasma begone.*
my co-stars, the koi.
sundown, hair-down. an entire can of hairspray for the "yoga instructor".
me!
it's a wrap! my end of the day bubbly.
*not my photo.
she's got bette davis ????
how should i preface this?
i'm a lazy girl. i'm a vain girl. i'm a lazy, vain girl. but i'm also, dare i say..... cheap?
let me explain.
it's not my nature to fork over my hard-earned cash for someone to wash my feet and hands every week, when i can paint my toes for free.i do see a professional every month or so for cuticle overhaul and {let's be honest} THE foot rub, but my nail haunts are of the drop-in type; never the same place twice, the kind where the technician always asks my ethnicity, and then debates my answer, convinced my japanese father is really a vietnamese liar.
tissue-paper thin nail beds {a result of the gel craze}, and a nasty nick to my thumb, has only compounded my at-home polishing skills and conviction to save money .
another area where i find it difficult to spend whence i can do it at home for free is my eyebrows:
pluck, pluck, trim, trim, pluck, trim, pluck.
easy.
it's tedious, a little time-consuming, but come on? if i can brew my own coffee, i can groom my own, silly eyebrows.
yet, of late, i'll admit, the brows haven't been getting the attention they've needed.
unruly is an understatement. try disorderly and drunken. my eyebrows have been violating city ordinances left and right.
the thing is, tweezers involve dexterity, and like i stated earlier: i'm a lazy girl!
at the end of the day flossing feels like brain surgery. add tweezers? aaaaaaaah!!
early saturday evening i was driving home to my darling, most handsome husband. my hands at ten and two, i glanced down at what looked like an episode of intervention: my nails were riddled with chips and cracks, as if i, myself, had been smoking the crack. not wanting to look ugly betty for hunkiest, i u-turned polly into the first nail salon i saw: "Top of Nails Salon."
i swear to god that's what the sign says. the grammar alone should have been my first clue warning.
all i wanted was a polish change. my intentions were good. no wash, no massage, no flower. i even had my own polish. but, no i couldn't leave well enough alone. inspired by the sharpie drawn eyebrows of my nail tech, i casually asked if "top of nails" also offered eyebrow waxing. her hesitation should have been my second clue warning.
palms in the air as my top coat dried, i shuffled into a back room where another sharpie-browed lass slathered molten lava wax on my baby brows, after which she left the room to watch her version of a telanovela. at least that's how long it felt. i was tempted to pull the lava strips off myself, but seeing as she was the "professional" i kept them there and waited.
and waited, and waited.
when she finally returned the heat had subsided as did any feeling in my face. but upon ripping the wax off, along with three layers of skin, the feeling came back, as did my fluency in profanity.
thinking/hoping the scalding was more just a feeling rather than an actual look, although i WAS suspicious when medusa didn't offer me a mirror to show me her finished product, i paid the lousy $6 bucks, and hightailed it out of the fancy "sah-lohn".
much to my sadness, although 100% deserving, it looked just as bad as it felt. actually worse. where there was one set of brows, there are now two: one black, one cherry red. kind of like licorice.
i officially hate licorice.
i look RIDICULOUS!!! and it's all my fault. i am lazy, i am vain, i am cheap.
i am also in a ton of pain. these are deep burns. i am in a constant state of aloe vera application. i've researched, and aloe vera seems to be the call for the quickest, safest, no-scar healing antidote.
how excited will the director of this week's commercial be when he sees this hot mess walk on to set? not exactly the zen vision he hired. thank god for concealer.
any other beauty horror stories out there you care to share?
i think we can all agree this one's pretty awesome!!!
monday happy to you m'loves!
twitch-gate
so twitchy has officially been with me for 6 months. if she were a baby, i'd be easing her into solid foods {oatmeal and rice- since they're more fiber rich and less constipating}, and introducing the sippy cup.
but she is not a baby. she is not something i birthed from the bliss of my happy marriage. nor did she stem from a deep need to create new life in the genetic ice blended of my husband and me.
this hooch just showed her unwelcome, irritating self in and up into my lower, right eyelid. she settled in, pulled up a chair, ordered a pizza, watched a little direct-tv, went through my clothes and made herself at home. and she's been there, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, save for a couple of hours, post mexican vacation bliss.
attempting to rid this unwanted houseguest, i went through a solid round of acupuncture. although soothing and calming, the needles were a bust. it was a bit confusing when my persian doctor would extol the merits of chinese medicine, but then tell me she was praying to jesus for my recovery. my meridians didn't know whether to make the sign of the cross, bow or kneel.
my potassium, magnesium, b-vitamin, and caffeine levels have all been checked too...i'm a big time supplementer as it is, but now, just for good measure, i'm a mega-supplementer. i'm my own GNC store these days. yet it's done nothing for the party bus in my eye.
two weeks ago, after a three-month wait, i finally was able to get in to see the wonder woman of eye specialty. doctor eye-fix-you-up was going to cease the six month mardi gras in lower right peeper.
as i was lead into the exam room i had to harness my deep, diaphragmatic breathing. i was excited and anxious. i was hopeful doctor-sight-for-sore-eyes was going to find twitchy a new home. i snuggled down into the large, vinyl reclining chair and waited to be cured.
three hours and 48 minutes later, i was still in the chair, still had not seen doctor-eye-have-better-things-to-do and was one month's salary poorer. rather than kill the wait time with the provided woman's day and runner's world magazines, i killed my bank account with ipad shopping. new shoes from net-a-porter, a doo-dad from 1st dibs and some potions from beautyhabit.com. i was getting confirmation receipts as well as s.o.s alerts from my bank wondering if my credit card had been stolen.
when doctor-eye-get-waiting-room-kickbacks-from-american-express finally appeared, i was so grateful for the shopping intervention, i couldn't get angry for the wait; and after all this was the woman who was about to work a miracle.
she shined blinding lights in my irises, checked my vision {20-15 thank you very much}, squirted some drops which made me cry, not tear, cry, and finished with 2 rounds of what felt like ping-pong paddles to my eyeballs. afterward, i had the disposition of declawed cat who had been given a cold, wet bath.
i was not a happy kitten. even with new fancy shoes coming in the mail.
dr. kiss-my-ass had determined that my twitch issue wasn't of a vision origin, and decided that the best solution was to inject botox into the trouble-making party. she also decided that somewhere down the line i should come back and get a "very simple, out-patient surgery, to remove the deep, puffy bags under {my} eyes."
doctor, you also should decide what kind of, in-patient, surgery you will need after i break your face!
although i was not exactly thrilled with the botox idea {a giant needle of botulism into my bottom eyelid?}, i signed the waiver agreeing to possible permanent disfigurement and loss of vision, betting my money {what was left} that this woman knew best.
in went the needle. i silenced my scream, but not my tears. twitchy did her version of a scream, and twitched in hammer-time. i actually felt a bit guilty for my 6-month old, baby twitch. doctor-i -hate-children told me the botox {did you know botulism means sausage in latin} takes a couple of days to take effect.
i stumbled out, hand covering my right eye, protecting my now beloved cub.
coming home, exhausted from the ocular rape, i fell into bed, and tried to nap my morning beating, to my bank account and my eye, away.
waking up, the first thing i felt was the absence of twitchy. she was gone! hand to cheek, that reverberation down my face had vanished. something felt strange though. was it just that i was so used to my eye fluttering, that "normal face" now felt odd. i ran to the mirror to check out my miracle:
yes, my twitch had fled my lower, right eyelid.
but the little minx had journeyed her way up to my upper, left brow.
awesome.
it has been three-plus weeks post socket assault. bitch twitch continues her artist in residence status. she's partial to my lower, right barker lounger, but occasionally spices it up in the high, left loft.
i'm at a loss. i go back to doctor-my-numbing-cream-sucks in september. stay tuned.
monday happy m'loves.
one or the other
car?
or hair?
they both are filthy, both are in dire need of a washing.
i only have time for one, and yes my hair takes just as much time as a trip to the car wash.
which should get the bath today?
where do you weigh in m'loves?
homegirl
monday happy to you m'loves!
southern california had its first warm weekend in what felt like a decade.
the neighborhood bustled with the ringing bells of beach cruisers, the clinking of margarita tumblers, impromptu front porch, procescco parties, and the ever present, smoky, sweet aroma of a bbq, permeating our open doors from friday afternoon to sunday night.
glory! glory! awww-chew!!
yes, despite all the warmth and splendor around me i was sidelined with my first major cold of the season.
out. man-down. this was a knockout. friday night i slept a total of 16 hours only to wake up saturday morning exhausted and feeling hungover.
hunkiest and i laid very low, had to cancel dates, stayed in, and rented fabulous movies.
we diary'd our weekend happy en photographie:
hoodrats.
milkbraids for sick girls who hate washing their hair.
{and for flirting with hunky boys}
our back porch kept me busy and domestic.
i tended mr. basil and sassy lady rose,
and then attempted a taming of sally thyme and rosemary green.
all are welcome out back.
the toes got a fresh coat of pink.
we breakfasted on croissants and café au lait in honor of the french open.
for once, i saw the writing on the streets wall.
in hindsight despite the chills, headache, and runny nose......it was a perfect weekend.
beauty school dropout
if you looked in my bathroom drawers, you'd think i'd be a wizard at the sun-kissed face, the glossy lip and the come hither eye.
but i have neither the skills nor time to keep a post hotel du cap summer flush, or nights in black satin stare.
i could open a mini-sephora with the potions and lotions and serums i possess. parabens and free radicals be gone...if only i remembered to apply.
and for the locks? oh my.
such the sucker for fancy, if it smells like catalina and promises to take the japanese straight and stubborn out of my hair, i'm slammin' that amex down.
but to be honest my home hair products {shampoo included} haven't been touched in over a year.
i've come to rely on my gym for my hair needs. their locker room product is kiehls. which is probably higher brow than the stuff i have under the sink anyway.
hunkiest, sweet as he is, is always encouraging me to take an hour or two to lady it up at a spa; get pretty and pampered.
i'd take him up on it:
a) if i had the time
b) if i didn't get so antsy pantsy
the last time i had a spa day i became so anxious {with all the calm and quiet} i got sick from emotionally eating all the dried apricots in the meditation room.
i always forget: a dried apricot is AN apricot; just because they're tiny doesn't mean too many won't make you vomit.
my nails are shorty short, like a nervous 3rd grader's. when i paint them using colors from my paint box of acquired polishes, it looks like i let my beast priscilla hold the brush.
{actually i may let her, she is quite deft when i comes to certain things: reeses peanut butter cups, pillows, pink sweaters}
i go to the nail salon where i am always taken to task for my lack of length. i have girlish shaped hands, but apparently mannish sized nail beds.
i don't bite my nails, i just prefer them super short. less room for dirt, germs, or hurt.
my town is brim full of just blown out, peaches & cream complected, coral lipped, matching coral nailed beauties.
most of them, at the gym, looking like this, on stairmasters, as i type.
not overdone, not cartoon-bravo tv types either.
these lovelies are A+ students in the everyday school of beauty.
always doing their homework, never missing a class or chance for extra credit {bright lips for spring}, they are always flawless faced, hair'd, fingered and toe'd.
as for me, i enroll every new semester, buy my books and syllabi creams and lipsticks, but then drop the class two weeks in.
i'm a lazy student. i have the melasma and short nail beds for proof. i wear my silly hats and sunscreen and giant tom ford's which practically cover me down to my chin. that's where it ends.
tell me m'loves which category do you fall into?
my cheap summer accessory
okay, so maybe freckles with a touch of melasma.
but it's still the least expensive, warm-weather accessory i've got going.
typically makeup artists and photographers have always covered my angel kisses {thank you auntie char};
but lately the concealer and photoshop is confined to my dark circles.
freckles are definitely surfacing in style.
here's a coolio video on the magic of retouching.
[vimeo http://vimeo.com/20270202 w =700 &h=602]
wednesday happy m'loves.
mop chop
taming the bonsai plant that has become my head of hair.
color blocking so popular this spring.
thinking of translating that fun into my tresses.
and so on
yesterday was a definite case of the mondays.
more like a baker's dozen.
i rpm'd my quads afire; only to find myself in the same spot at the start of my playlist.
at the market, i stood behind a real life orange county t.v. housewife.
actually i stood behind her giant breasts.
i thought maybe she was the fancy, new dairy case; dispensing milk in her free time for extra cash.
i'm all for a great set of jugs, but 3 o'clock in one's afternoon is a teeny, tiny early for nippleage, no?
4:30 and you can pop that areola right out honey!
i'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt. maybe when she left the house she didn't see her blouse was missing.
it's hard to see when you're false eyelashes rival jet planes.
this is a trend that is getting more severe and common 'round here.
the lashes are getting longer and thicker and heavier.
how much more can those lids take? it's not sustainable is it?
my pilates business is going to have to include post-rehab exercises for lash use.
soon, the poor little OC eyelids are going to need their own support groups and reach-out hotlines.
shopping carried on {me sweets, her chardonnay}.
then i had another round of tuck & squeeze and spin class.
not my typical classes. i brought my nervous, knotted stomach with me into sub.
i know it's evening and our gym does have a bar....
but the amount of makeup and done up hair had me longing for my own face-robe.
designer bags to match dictated personalities.
once again i feel apart, cast out, {flat chested}, not belonging, in this town i call home.
my magic formula
today i have a 10am call time.
regrettably, last night's sleep count clocked in at a dismal 4 hours.
lucky for me there is a solution to the done in mess that is my face.....
hair
makeup
and fairy dust.
image for source
aye aye matey
so here's the story of my missing tooth:
two hours into our drive up north i bit into a very soft, unsuspecting granola bar.
out came my front veneer!?!?
{childhood bout with spinal meningitis= crazy high fever=white spots on my teeth=false fangs}
let's focus.
so here i am last week, on vacation with (pardon my french) no fucking front tooth during binge fest 2010.
i walked around with a tube of fixodent and superglue, but still wasn't able to remedy mywest-virginia tee-rash look (as lovingly nicknamed by hh).
i saw a new dentist on monday and was given the dreadful news that i must get an entire new set of choppers. sadly, this isn't the first time one of them has popped off. i wonder if demi and i shared the same incompetent dentist?
suck.
up a size...or two...
blech.
someone had herself one too many mr. goodbar's this weekend.
my triple xxl robe from men's: husky and high even feels snug this morning.
HD friendly i am not.
rather, stick an apple in my mouth and fire-pit me up luau style.
i can't go on another day feeling like such a slug.
plus, i'm out of mr. goodbars.
7 years bad luck
no amount of concealer can mask the snippets of sleep stymied.
this broken record has become a bore.
my undereyes of purple and grey are my must-have bags of the season.
they can take me from day into evening.
silver lining makes my eyes and heart bigger.
vanity
a few years back in a quest to look like heidi klum, i made the mistake of subjecting my face to an extremely aggressive peel.
what resulted resembled something more looking like her husband Seal.
the treatment proved too harsh for my axis powers skin (german/japanese).
dark patches of my shallow decision have dotted my face since, reminding me of my foolish, shallow nature.
rather than learn my lesson and leave well enough alone; this weekend i served up another heaping helping of vainglory.
i attempted to remedy my own tribal scars with cosmelan.
currently my face is a deep scarlet.
below is a self portrait.
my fingers, toes, and eyes are crossed that this will work.
updates to follow.
click images for source
polished in fall
yippee skippy for fall fashion.
i'm saving oodles with my closet already camel copious.
thank you chloe.
i'm loving the fingernail fun out for fall.
typically i like to keep my nails nekid in spring and summer.
but, once the seasons change {in blustery newport beach} these beds get a blanket of lacquer.
so far i'm fancying the following:
butter is my favorite brand of polish; the wear and the shades. as you saw above they are paying homage to alexander mcqueen this season. here is the full spread: all hail to mcqueen, bumster {inspired by mcqueen's low trouser seen in his 1996 show}, marrow, & victoriana.
please dears, tell me what you'll be donning come cooler temps.
angel kisses
kinda not hating on my freckles these days....
when i was young and not so fancy on my freckly face; my aunt charla told me my spots were merely kisses from the angels above. i had a smattering of specks so this narrative helped me out of some angst- ridden, adolescent hiding.
this is also the aunt who told me thunder and lightning is the sound of dead nuns and priests bowling strikes in heaven.
a simple wish
it's party time.
shhhhhh.....it's a surprise.
we've been planning, and trying to keep it under wraps.
but the day has come.......
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTINA!!!!
it's going to be a crowded bash over at soul aperture; for the ledger of all who love the empress is long and grows by the hour.
our entry ticket must a list of simple things to "show what we appreciate, and what we are grateful for – no matter how big or small, these things may seem.”
i give you ten of mine:
sunday morning dates with my new york times and a pot of coffee. no cell phone or laptops making fourth wheel appearances.
a summer song for after dinner strolling; or for sipping wine in solitude on the sofa.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cuZo7pLnL7c]
trust.
an afternoon nap.
a bare beach.
ponytails.
handwritten letters
hearty, savoury meals.
a night at the movies.
manners.
there you have it. my simple things for the summer.
happy birthday miss christina.
one giant ladleful of love to you lovely lady.
click images for source.