Making It Up

One of the first items that prompted me to consider documents/blogging about a more mindful life were the products I use on a daily basis. Inspired by my friend Sarah, makeup was on my list of items to reevaluate. So for the past year I've been trying to get through my existing product so I could replace them. After a few false starts, I finally reached a point where I realized a few things.

1. I can't completely run out of everything at the same time

2. I really need to start wearing make up like a grown up, you know a "real" professional.

3. I am completely intimidated by make up, skin care and the women who work at stores that sell them, e.g. MAC.

So I started searching for a consultant that wasn't affiliated with a specific brand. I wanted a translator for the vast world of product. This should have been an easy endeavor, but lacking any direct referrals I had reached a dead end. Then I randomly came across the handy Washingtonian Reader Deals, and voilà Princess Street. 

Megan, the brains behind Princess Street, offers a straightforward service. She'll come to your place and evaluate your current products; make a list based on what you're looking for; go shopping with you to pick out the products; and come back to your place to teach you how to use it all. It's fun and idiot proof. Perfect. Flat fee for her expertise and you buy the products selected based on the budget you set out.

So this past Saturday, I spent my afternoon shopping with my new personal makeup expert for a whole new look. The headline? I really have no idea about make up, but M was super friendly and helpful. Most importantly, she answered the questions that elude me. What's worth a splurge, and what can you just pick up at the drugstore?

So armed with the goal of getting more natural, professional make up we headed out. In retrospect, I was ill equipped to really know if the products we finally selected really fall low enough on the Skin Deep scale to be a true improvement, but I'm going to go through the process of typing the products (the ones not in the database yet) to get an overall rating. Another post for another day.

We hit four stores: MAC, Sephora, CVS and Blue Mercury. I'm also heading to Target to pick up a couple things we couldn't find. 

The list of new products (photos later):

• Laura Mercier Tinted Moisturizer spf 20 (porcelain)
• Make Up Forever Palette 5 Cremes de Camouflage No. 1
• MAC Mineralize Satinfinish spf 15 Foundation (NC20)
• MAC Mineralize Skinfinish Natural (medium light)
• MAC Powder Blush (Dame)
• MAC Powder Blush (Prism)
• MAC Eyeshadow Four Palette (need to look up the color names) 
• MAC Technakohl Liner Eye-Liner Kajal (earthline)
• MAC VivaGlam 6 Lipstick
• MAC Mystic Satin Lipstick
• Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion (eden)
• Cover Girl Lash Blast Mascara (very black)We also picked up brushes, more later, as well as a few skin care basics. Day two of trying out the new scheme-- referencing the handy face guides M made for about what to use in what order-- I am slowly thinking I might eventually get this down. But, since I'm starting with a steep learning curve, this could take awhile. So not sure if I hit it out of the park on the natural side, but hopefully I've not purchased a make up bag full of toxins and I might look a bit more put together in the weeks ahead. Well, at least from the neck up.

Urban Camping Gives Way to Cairo

Complaining about a 2.5 day power outage seems fairly trivial as the events in Egypt unfold. I couldn't access this blog, twitter, or facebook regularly because of a power outage-- not because my government had shut down access.

Lebanon. Tunisia. Egypt. Jordan. These are countries and a region in transition. So many sources out there.

Hashtags of interest: #egypt, #jan25
Latest from the U.S. @StateDept
Wire feeds from Reuters, AP, BBC, 
TIME summary of Egypt situation

An Extra Hour

If there were only more than 24 hours in a day. Ah, the sentiment we've all uttered seriously or fleeting from time to time as we rush from task to task. After grad school, I can remember basking in luxurious open evenings. Spacious Sundays uninterrupted by a forced eight hour march at the library. Coming back to Washington work-life balance was at the heart of my career choice. Less on-call, less frenetic pace. All conscious choices.

A survey of the past three years back in our hometown, shows a splattered mix of the use of my new found free time. Nothing cemented with conviction and discipline the way grad school forces you to divide your days.

An hour for the gym.

An hour for writing.

An hour for cooking a more involved meal.

An hour for art/gift/photo projects.

Sure they've all made an appearance in the repertoire, but some how none has carved out firm time. So when DH travels for several weeks at a time I'm presented with an interesting opportunity that I've often squandered. Massive chunks of time that I can fill with anything at all. An ideal opportunity to form new habits, healthy habits.

So I'd like to be able to report that with the start of 2011 the latest sojourn brought on by his travel has set me on the right path. Specifically with reestablishing a five day-a-week gym schedule. That would be a no.

Rather, I've rediscovered a mean case of insomnia; tried out a few new recipes (yummy pork loin and pizza recipes will be shared later); caught up on a disproportionate amount of reality TV; and merely dappled in the gym.

Well, tomorrow is a new day. Maybe the extra hour I need to fit in the gym will be there.

Blue Polish

First things first, the new eco nail spa next door, The Emerald Door, is great. Proceed with booking an appointment immediately. They use Zoya polish and no chemical/toxic products in their treatments. Help get this new eco-business in NW DC/Silver Spring/Bethesda area off to a great start. Mention Washingtonian and get 20 percent off until 1/31. Now back to your regular scheduled programming.

Polish selection at the beginning of a little spa indulgence is always a fun moment to determine what you want to be walking around thinking about for the next 4-6 weeks. Especially in winter, when your toes are not on full display. The color you pick is more for you than the toe monitors of open-toe shoe season. The OPI colors have the best names (sadly, not eco-friendly). Personal favorites include "Queen of D'Nile," "An Affair in Red Square," "Peru-B-Ruby."

So I plucked alluring "Ibiza" off the shelf and bravely embraced the new blue and gray tones of the season. But really, I was reliving what was an old habit long put into hibernation.

The period of mid-1990s, also known as high school, was the peak of grunge and manic panic blue. Being the straight-laced speechie that I was, the blond hair was never touched. But my toes? Ahh, well my toes were blue for every speech tournament. 

It became an odd little superstition. Even my mother would pick up blue polish for me. My inner artist rebelling against my future MBA self. Blue toes gave me confidence, a little sass before rounds and rounds of extemp and impromptu.

Somewhere between the move from IL to DC, the toes stopped being blue. I don't remember any fanfare, I just stopped using the color. 

But today, as I stood there staring at the lovely dark crimsons and pinks I've faithfully worn for years, I wanted blue. And when the first brush stroke hit by nail, I knew. I am no longer a blue polish girl. Whatever that impulse was, needs to go back to into my Pekinian. 

The beautiful deep water blue is gracing my toes as I type this and I plan to put these little piggies on full view in yoga tomorrow, but these next few weeks are likely my last miles walked in my blue toes. The color of my youth is not the color of my thirties.

Perhaps my subconscious was looking for a little boost of confidence as I begin training for another 10 miler and pushed me toward Ibiza. And hey, maybe these first miles tread on blues toes will set me on the right path to better health. But farewell blue, we shall likely not meet again. 

Just Walking My Dog

While you're tucked into your snuggie on the couch watching Dancing with the Stars or the Real Housewives, I'm bundled up to take my dog out for one last evening walk. Such is the life of urban yarders. You know those of us who have no yard so we have to trek out each and every time our dogs need to go out.

This late evening stroll around the neighborhood provides more than an excuse for my 80 lb. dog to stretch his legs. It also makes a visible statement about the level of awareness of  the neighborhood. Quiet streets, unattended cars and dark windows all are easy targets for random theft.

More than one evening in my years of walking the dog late I've come across a group of restless, thug-wanna-bes surveying car windows along the street. Without fail they size me up, then they size up the dog. There's no conversation, no threatening looks. Just a slow, deliberate walk that they know I see them and they see me and my dog.

Once around the block and more often than not, they're gone. If not, I might linger under a well lit street light for few extra minutes as a deterrent. This neighborhood service is fulfilled by all the late night walkers, perhaps slightly more effective if your dog is larger than a tea cup (but hey, let's not pick on the little guys).

We don't ask for thanks. We don't send you a bill. In fact, we're a strange little community that self-regulates. Didn't bring a bag to pick up after your dog? Yeah, we'll call you out on that. Dog off leash with too many dogs or people around? Yea, we'll call you out on that too. Dog being too aggressive towards other dogs? You get the idea.

No it's not perfect, there are a few bad eggs that don't pick up after their dogs. But don't take down the whole bunch of us. So when I hear neighbors complaining about how dogs are ruining the neighborhood, I get a bit irked. Complain about how all big dogs are aggressive. Aspire to become one of the many places that says dogs under 25 lbs. only. Let me know how that works out.

I'll still be walking my dog, helping keep the neighborhood safe. You're welcome.

Watch Out Thin People

The absence of a topic in conversation can be an indication how much you really don't want to talk about something. The topic that has eluded this blog? Exercise and weight loss. I've avoided it more effectively than the Christmas cookie platters of yore. I've told myself repeatedly not to write about it because it was too personal, putting too much out there. But enough, I'm going to meekly broach the topic.

So my jump start training of 2009 for 5K/10Ks and sprint triathlons did me a wonder of good. And then through a variety of personal stresses and ironically weighing myself one day and realizing I had lost more than I thought, I stopped really trying. Genius I know. Last May I drug myself across the finish line at the Broad Street 10 miler. It was awesome, it was painful, I want to do it again. With less pain.

Working to dispense of the psychological baggage of a plus-sized lived life, I've finally come to terms with something my doctor said to me several years ago. "Watch how thin people eat and exercise and copy that."

Let me tell you, I've been ticked off about that sentiment for several years. WTH was pretty much all I could think as I walked out of her office. I've been haunted by that phrase over and over again as I made choices at a lunch or dinner with a friend or colleague that is thin and fit. I've hemmed and hawed about it as I used the stationary bike at the gym and watched a fit women pound it out on the treadmill.

Over the last year I've finally started to interpret that concept into the more literal direct statement of "make better choices." Every single thing I shovel into my mouth is a choice. Every time I don't go to the gym is a lost opportunity cost. Implementing this realization is a bit more tricky.

So as I've mulled over new years resolutions to write, the items have not surprisingly centered around health. Yesterday, I caught up with my inspiring and kick-ass training partner from 2009 and independent of each other had both reached two conclusions: we want run a race again and we miss hot yoga.

So watch out thin people, I'm watching.
And very slowly running behind you.

Resolute Desk

Amid the binge sorting and cleaning of the other week DH finally agreed that he needed a better at-home workspace. Our little grandma's bill paying desk was great, but his knees didn't fit under it. Since we're trying to make no serious furniture purchases this year, the only logical place to look was IKEA. Less than $70 later, he is now blissful over his new "work surface" in the corner of our loft space.

This has now left me with two piles upstairs to still deal with: the remains of sorting down to "OMG we have to keep that paperwork/stuff we can't live without" and now a little desk that has become an island piled high with desk stuff and Christmas decor carnage.

I've realized that we should have waited on getting the new desk because DH's interest in sorting and filing has been completely lost to his obsession with how productive he can now be at home. Sigh. Well, at least I know what I'll be doing while he's traveling. Oh that and the honey-do list he pulled out for me this morning.

Over nine years of marriage and never once has he given me a list... is this progress? Greater equality? Well, you can't fight the list.