Thursday, June 30, 2011

why my facialist is not a brain surgeon

This past weekend I went to get a facial.

Yes, a facial. Yes, I am that woman. And I don't want to hear about it. Here's the thing: my skin was FANTASTIC growing up. High school? No problem. Just smoothe, clear skin. Once in a while a big blemish would appear, then it would go away promptly.

Then I went to college, and suddenly had all these little bumps along my jawline, near my mouth. Bumps that WOULD NOT LEAVE. And also I couldn't pop them because they weren't at the surface...they were somehow underneath. Incredibly infuriating. I've been working on these things for the past 7 years to no avail.

Then I turned 23 or 24 and my skin FREAKED OUT. I don't know how else to say it. I get the weirdest breakouts. Luckily, by this time, I was getting decent paychecks. So a little over a year ago, I started getting facials at an awesome place in Delaware/Pennsylvania. Then I quit my job and I stopped. The house rule is: as long as Ceej has an income, she can get facials. But I waited a few months after starting this job, and my skin totally noticed and got up. set. The bumps, which had still not gone away completely, came back in full force and started spreading to new areas of my face. Plus the new breakouts. BLECH.

So I started going to a place down here in Maryland, and it's great. The owner, gives a great facial.

She does not, however, do a great job of keeping her opinions to herself. Opinions which often confuse me. For example, I complained about a wrinkle I've noticed getting more and more noticeable between my eyebrows. She suggested I get Botox. And I was all, "...umm...I don't think so..." But she kept telling me that "everybody does it" and that it's the best way to preempt face/brow lifts later on in life. And that 25 is exactly the age at which it becomes necessary. I told her that I've never been a huge proponent of Botox/other plastic surgery measures, and that The Foliage would DEFINITELY not be cool with that level of unnatural.

Then she told me to do it without telling him. Which turned into a conversation about how she thinks I should have a secret checking account (all of our finances are combined, and it's awesome). So I should lie to him about money and also lie to him about my physical insecurities as well as medical procedures. Is her suggestion. Right.

I'm really confused about her enthusiasm for this practice, but maybe I'm projecting my own ideals onto aestheticians in general. I go and get facials on a monthly basis instead of seeing a dermatologist, because I prefer a more holistic approach to self-care. I probably shouldn't assume that people who give facials would prefer natural solutions, even though they hock products on their all-natural benefits.

Later I mentioned that I was going to get a laser hair removal treatment the same day. Which set her off about how unsafe THAT is. Because injecting poison into one's face is totally fine, but a laser affecting hair follicles is not. At all. And I don't know why I'm OK with one and not the other, either. I was just very surprised at her reaction to it. And the fact that she said all that AFTER she knew that I - the client - was in the process of receiving these treatments. I'm pretty sure my payment guarantees that I my opinions are correct. Or at least not egregiously wrong.

So. Weird.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

as i inhale the room

I've had a bit of the blogfail lately, I know. I just don't want every. single. post. to be about my wedding, but that's really all that's on my mind lately. The other thing that's on my mind is that I'm starting a business, and it's already doing well, but I don't REALLY want to talk about it until the website's done and I have official-like pretty pictures to show.

So. Hopefully I'll have become interesting by tomorrow. Fingers crossed.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

and DEFINITELY no more fun

So when I was little, somewhere between 7 and 10, one of my teachers had the class play a game called "Quakers' Meeting." The game started by her saying this:

Quakers' meeting has begun
No more laughing, no more fun
If you dare to crack a smile
You will have to walk a mile

And then she'd choose a kid to start. And that kid had to make us all laugh. The last one to not laugh or smile would NOT be walking a mile, rather they became the next "Quaker." Of COURSE she always chose Daniel Cacciamani, the class clown, who was admittedly HILARIOUS. But then, I would be the next "Quaker." Because I like winning! I like being the best at things! Unfortunately, I was not the best at understanding consquences, because then I ended up at the front of a room, full of my peers, with absolutely no idea what to do. Also I think "My So-Called Life" had premiered, and I had become extremely adept at not smiling, following in Angela Chase's clunky shoes.

All of this translates to: forced stand-up comedy. And regular stand-up comedy is maybe one of the most traumatizing activities a person can undertake. So that plus a SNEAK ATTACK equals CEEJ HAS A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.

I may have mentioned my xxxtreme unpopularity before. Well...yeah. Full effect, people. It was so bad, that the bell would ring for class to end - without me making a single person so much as smile - because we ran. out. of. time. You know how every minute in front of an unhappy-looking group of people can feel like an eternity? Well, I was up there for a lot of minutes. On several occasions.

I honestly can't believe this "game" is legal. Paddling? Fine, bring it back. But for the love of all that is holy, no kid should have to play this monstrous game.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

so i'm suggesting a swift orderly change

I feel as though it would behoove America - nay, the world - to let women who have normal periods to take each first day off of work, no questions asked, no penalties issued. I don't have enough sick/personal days to make this a rule for myself, nor do I wish to bring my work ethic into question via monthly absence. But good LORD I am in PAIN and totally EXHAUSTED* today. Color me useless. Nature 1, Spreadsheets 0.

*One day, The Foliage was feeling all sorts of outdoorsy, and kept taking me to outside places and getting frustrated that I didn't want to play frisbee with him** even though he knew I'd just started my period. He kept throwing the stupid thing at me while I watched it go by, Daria-style. After several hours of this, I yelled, "My UTERUS is ATTACKING ITSELF, trying to SQUEEZE OUT its CONTENTS. I am TIRED and it HURTS." And he was all, "Ohhhhhhh!! That makes sense." Then he drove me home and brought me hot chocolate while I held still on the couch.
**Oh, BTW, I'm marrying a puppy.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

no thank YOU for smoking

Last night on the metro ride home, there was a guy who looked just like Aaron Eckhart, plus 10 years.

Good news, you guys: in 2021, Aaron Eckhart will still be unreasonably pretty. We can all stop worrying.

Monday, June 20, 2011

the things they carried

Stuff my partner and future family-in-law lost yesterday while whitewater tubing:
-Sunglasses
-Hat
-Shoe (retrieved)
-Prescription glasses
-The integrity of a "dry bag"
-Car key to a rental
-Other stuff I don't even know about

Stuff I lost yesterday while whitewater tubing:
-My balance
-Yeahhhhh, that's about it...

You can make fun of the OCD chick all you want, but she's the one who left with every single thing she brought, suckers. Nature doesn't make lazy rivers; the Potomac will take everything you love.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

SEVEN

Remember that episode of "Friends" where Monica tells Chandler about women's 7 erogenous zones? I didn't understand it then...and I still don't. Apparently I'm neglecting a CRAPLOAD of zones. I feel so inadequate.

Friday, June 17, 2011

daydreaming about my honeymoon

honeymoon dreaming

honeymoon dreaming by iheartpeachyring featuring french connection dresses

This collection is not featuring a french connection dress. It's featuring that blazer. And OMG that handbag. Which I WANTS. I fully intend to live in my navy blue and black blazers from H&M for the duration of the honeymoon. And judging by how this spring has gone so far, that won't be a problem. I wish I could wear them to work every day without drawing attention...

The whole nautical, WASPy thing might be a little overly literal, but that's what I'm feeling this year. Stripes! Loose fits! Except the shorts...who came up with parachute shorts? That person is a moron. Those things make me look like I'm wearing a diaper. The ones in this set are high-waisted hotpants. YES! For regular life? No. For honeymooning on a European island? Bring it.

Thursday, June 16, 2011


Source
Those things? Are the devil. We got a pack of the Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough last month, and after we made them, each of us swore that we'd eaten more than the other. Because both of us were sneaking bites. And also shoving entire cookies into our mouths so the other wouldn't see the chocolatey horror. It was RIDICULOUS. Two people in one apartment should not make an entire package all at once. But we did. And it was a delicious, one-time thing.

Except that when we went grocery shopping this weekend, The Foliage put CHOCOLATE-FILLED Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough in the cart. Which...is way unnecessary, yes? In any case, they do not need to be in my home. Where they can be continually close to my mouth.

We're in the very last week of Insanity, and it's way too tempting to convince myself I've earned it (which, by the way, I totally have), and subsequently eat 7 of these cookies. Not that that's what I did last night. Gorging on cookies is totally a Thursday sort of activity.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

pop quiz

Dear Tourists on the Metro,

Do you think I want to hear about your love of all things BIRD, and about the weird webcam bird show you watch every day?

Here, I'll give you a hint: NO. No, I don't.

I'm glad you like my ring (as you should because it's awesome) but good LORD when I'm on my morning commute, it's too early for me to politely feign interest FOR HALF AN HOUR. I didn't stand next you because I wanted to talk; I stood there because there was nowhere else to stand.

Unrelated: thanks for offering me a seat, dude. PSYCH!

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

count it down

Over the weekend, The Foliage and I had to come up with lists of important events in our lives (it's a wedding thing, and mostly a secret). And it was REALLY HARD. At first, we just had boring things like our births and graduations. He got distracted and disappeared, and then I felt inspiration strike.

"Hey, [Foliage], what years were you addicted to World of Warcraft?"
"And hooooow old were you when you got yourself stuck under a vending machine?"
"You stole your grandparents' Internet, right? When did that happen?"

I'd been shouting these questions at him across the house, and it was at this point that he came back into the dining room and said, "Sooo...you're actually going to use those?"

IS THAT A SERIOUS QUESTION? I mean, come ON. Who does he think he's dealing with?

For the record, I wrote down, "1996 - Wanted to BE a Spice Girl," in my own list. It's a very well-rounded selection of events and milestones.

I really think that wedding details set the stage for a marriage*, and what better stage than that of mockery? If (and only if) I get to embarrass The Foliage for the rest of our lives, then I am IN.

*No I don't; that's ridiculous.

Monday, June 13, 2011

i need to go to paris probably

This weekend we went to see "Midnight in Paris." The new Woody Allen film. Why? Well, because. We just did. I'm rarely a fan of Woody, but the cast was pretty awesome, and I wasn't in the mood for "Super 8." The Foliage just wanted to see A movie, so he didn't really care. Here's what I walked away with:

1. The quintessential Woody Allen protagonist is SO MUCH LESS AWKWARD when played by Owen Wilson.

2. Marion Cotillard is gorgeous beyond all reason. I already knew this from her other films, but those hadn't given me such a chance to be all, "...wow." So beautiful.

Now I have to do my job. Kbye.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

a day in the life

1. Today is the first pick-up of our CSA share this year! Finally! We joined Norman's Farm Market CSA and our pick-up location is really close to The Foliage's office. I've been bringing it up a LOT over the past few weeks, since our CSA in Delaware started WAY earlier than this. Like April or May or something. Of course we really only got a bunch of different kinds of lettuce, beets (WTF am I supposed to do with beets? We got them every week all season. I still don't know how to use those mothas.), and no fruit. I don't know if it's because of the recent heat wave or what, but we're already slated to get squash and tomatoes AND fruit with this new one. Sweeeeet!!

2. Bachelor/ette Party planning is stressful. Even when you're not the one actually doing the planning.

3. Now reading Water for Elephants and I'm so bored with the characters. The main ones, anyway. The supporting characters are really entertaining. I feel like romantic connections in books so often fall flat for me. Maybe having actually BEEN in love, reading about it seems hollow. There's never enough depth in either character for me to be convinced. Or the main character is really great, but all I can think about his/her love interest is, "S/he's BORING. Who wants somebody like that?" Because they're usually demure/shy/constantly acquiescing amiright? Oh, great, main character. You like him/her because they have you on a pedestal. I'm sure that adoration is going to last FOREVER.

Also a HUGE part of the storyline centers around humane treatment of animals, which isn't really a central concern of mine in life. And especially in this book, since it takes place during the Depression, and human characters are starving. If the animals are eating rotten meat? At least they're being fed. And if you feed an animal that died to another animal? WHO CARES? IT'S DEAD. THERE'S NOTHING ELSE FOR ANYONE TO EAT ANYWHERE.

That's pretty incendiary. I know. I have a lot of animal-loving friends, and they get very upset when I talk about my attitude toward animal rights. So I'm not going to get into it at the moment. But the bottom line is that humans are my first priority. End of story.

And a friend of ours got me canning supplies for my bridal shower, so I'm gonna use our CSA vegetables to make salsaaaaaaa!!!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

that's how i do

Today is our Makeoutaversary. An important -aversary because, even though we knew we liked one another before that, afterwards we were all, "Whoa...I think I REALLY like you." Which neither of us was necessarily expecting. At least not to that degree.

I was going to go through the whole embarrassing story, like I do, but decided not to.

Because sometimes I'm depressed and full of self-pity and ridiculousness. And then I write about it* to The Foliage, and go on and on about how I'm feeling and why. And then he says things, like, "Ummm...I know. Do you think I haven't been with you for 3 years? Because I have." And other things that are none of your business. He's pretty much the only person outside of my family who has ever talked with me about my depression and made me feel like, "Oohhh you really DO get it...and still ferreal love me and aren't just saying that!"

Which, you know, kind of rules.

Happy mackin'-on-you-versary, [TOE]!

*When I have something important to say, I write it. I forget too many things when I'm talking, and also eye contact distracts the hell out of me. So nearly every really pivotal discussion in our relationship has been documented. Which is cool and weird.

Monday, June 6, 2011

and i'm like omg becky's not even hot

I would really like to see an All-State Insurance: First Class movie. Because I could totally see Mayhem being a young recruit to the X-Men. Only his power is being able to sustain moderate-to-ridiculous injuries. And then he gets left out of the franchise because his power is LAME and he has to resort to selling car insurance to make ends meet. How humiliating.

I still love you, Mayhem. You don't need the other mutants.

i would totally marry...a couple of actors

Yesterday afternoon I FINALLY finished the last book of Millennium Trilogy. And when I did, I found myself pretty annoyed at all of the female characters for being soooooo in looooove with Mikael Blomkvist. He's not that great! He's middle-aged, blonde, and kind of has a paunch, from his description in the books. He likes strong women* so that's a point in his favor, I guess. But...meh. Maybe my opinion was influenced by watching the Swedish film version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Because I did NOT find that Mikael attractive at all.

But last night we went to see the new X Men movie. And the trailer for the American version of the film was shown. And Daniel Craig will apparently be playing Kalle Blomkvist. And now I get it. Because Daniel Craig as a genius investigative journalist who can only get it up for self-assured women? Seriously?! I don't even like blondes, but come ON.

I would also like to note that I rolled my eyes so hard when I heard the US would be remaking this, since the Swedish one was so good. And we all know America has a tendency to butcher perfectly good foreign media for no apparent reason**. But the trailer looks pretty amazing. Although I don't know if anyone but Noomi Rapace can ever be Lisbeth in my mind. We'll see. Now that I'm going to be projecting the US version onto the walls of my LIFE once it premiers.

The other crush of the evening: Magneto. Or Michael Fassbender. Or whatever. He doesn't need to have a name, because he's like angry, supernaturally powerful James Bond. Which is obviously the only way that James Bond could get better. And better James Bond = MINDSPLOSION. It doesn't even make SENSE. This is probably not OK, but I could hardly wait until we were out of the theatre to tell The Foliage how much of a crush I had on him. I mean Magneto, not The Foliage. I know, it can get confusing in my mind sometimes.

Under that tough exterior of anger...is some real sensitivity. And appreciation of the unique. But under that there's more angry! Oh, and sad. But focus on the positive. Which is the angry. Duh. Before I met The Foliage, if people asked me what my type was, my answer was pretty much, "Someone who looks like they could kill me without anyone ever knowing." Which is, you know, maybe cause for concern. For some people. But I just knew what I wanted. Potentially a member of an Eastern European mafia? Pick me up at 8, and don't wear anything with too many buttons.

When I DID tell The Foliage about this (because I have no self-restraint FYI IN CASE YOU JUST STARTED READING THIS BLOG), his response was, "Man, I've got so much of that covered except the evil! Damnit!" Because obviously the evil is the clincher. The meanest thing he does is to shove me into walls sometimes. Which I probably deserve. Given the above.

*Because the author, Stieg Larsson, had HARDCORE guilt issues about not stopping a gang rape he witnessed as a 15 year old. Which is understandable. And kind of a buzzkill. But in any case, all of his male protagonists just UH. DORE. strong women, and all of the antagonists hate them. And there are no female antagonists. Nor are there any weak or unintelligent women. Kind of a skewed population segment. All women are strong, brilliant, good people, and all men are either evil and hate women OR are good and worship all females ever. Just...weird.
**If you don't like "Love, Actually" then you have no heart and we can't be friends***
***OKfine we can maybe be friends, but you have to bring me chips and salsa.

Friday, June 3, 2011

an exercise defeat

Last night I went to Stroga for the 7pm yoga class. It was called "Heated Vinyasa" but I'd done those before, so I figured it would be fine.

And then I left after 20 minutes.

TWENTY MINUTES. What kind of yoga wimp am I?! I'll tell you what kind: the kind that had already sweat through her shirt, and was more focused on kicking the instructor via 3-legged-dog pose than on elongating her spine.

Unrelated: WHY do athletic shirts show every drop of sweat? Isn't that the point of those things? To hide the sweat? I already sweat a lot when I work out, and it's not exactly attractive. If I'm paying a premium for specifically-created athletic apparel, that ish better make it look like I'm not struggling. Because my face is saying the opposite. Loudly.

I felt OK about leaving because we're still doing Insanity (oh my gawd it never ends...) and the other day I put on shorts and didn't hate my legs in shorts for the first time in...ever. Well, if "ever" means "as long as I've noticed my legs." So 16 years. Which is kiiiiind of a big deal, I think.

Unfortunately, my athletic prowess is diminished significantly by the fact that I am a SPAZ and have a billion bruises on my legs. The Foliage says this is not a big deal, but The Foliage is wrong. I feel trashy walking around with visible, blue and purple, splotchy wounds. Also: visible bra straps. I hate. Unless the wearer is stick thin, then it can be fashiony. That is beside the point.

The point is that yoga is harder than I remembered, and instead of finishing the class I ate an oatmeal cookie during my walk to the train. THE END.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

spoiler alert

So last week, The Foliage and I were catching up on "Modern Family" and one episode was about how Claire is the mean parent and Phil is the fun one. Then they switch roles. Then I cocked my head to one side and went, "huh."

Because suddenly they were my parents.

Have you seen this episode? Phil tells his daughters to clean their bathroom, which they don't, so he makes them go back in to clean, and monitors them, and ends up forgetting to let them eat all day. Which my dad TOTALLY DID one time. Mom came home and was not. pleased.

But in another part of the episode, Claire takes Luke and Manny to a drag racing course, and as soon as the vehicles are turned on, the first thing she does is to ram both of them into the barrier. And the audience is supposed to be all, "Oooh poor kiiiiids." But all I could think was, "Yeah, my mom would do that."

Little heads up: if you ever have or are doing anything really cool, and my mom is nearby, make sure you are not vulnerable, and always have an exit. I recommend not making eye contact and taking a few steps away from her so you're out of reach. Best case is she's tracking someone else's joy. Worst case is she smashes your perfectly constructed nacho into your face. At a wedding.

You know how mothers are always saying things like, "Just ignore him/her!" and, "When you get upset like this, you're just giving him/her what s/he wants!"? My mom is the instigator is ALL OF THOSE TIMES.

I was annoyed when they switched back at the end of the episode. It was like I was watching my memories. And having a whole series of episodes like that on Hulu would make therapy WAY easier.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

pants on fire. girl on fire too i guess.

OK, well JUST KIDDING. I wrote this post yesterday when I thought I'd still be reading the book today...but last night I went home, did NONE of the things I was supposed to do, and instead read Catching Fire. Until, like, 10:30. And then The Foliage was all, "Hey! I love you! Let's talk about random things!" And I was all, "Katnisssssss!!!" So that didn't last long.

Multiple people have promised me the 3rd book, Mockingjay, as a loaner. But have since not been able to deliver. So I bought the book at lunch. Because I can hardly breathe not knowing what happens. Right now? Respiration is a challenge. A big one.

And now the book is sitting 2 feet from me. Just waiting. I wish I could force field the area around my desk and read for 5 hours. Stupid mortal limitations...

I also bought Water for Elephants because I've been wanting to read it, and CLEARLY I have zero self-control.

mah storays

I don't know how I feel about this, but...since I've started reading the second installment of The Hunger Games, every moment I spend NOT reading it is the worst moment of my whole life.

So. Just FYI. A little heads up. If I seem incredibly distracted or PAINFULLY DISINTERESTED in what you're saying over the next few days/weeks...it's because I am. I'm not going to go all Leah on you and just stop blogging while I read, but it's going to be about as close as you can get. So just lower your expectations, give me the d*mn book and leave me in peace.

My apologies.