I woke up today with the blahs.
Last night my roommate had his pal over to eat dinner and watch movies.He’d been stressing all day about it to me every hour on the hour and right before the date was 100 percent on-every minute on the minute.And so lucky me I got to take part in the stress,too.
Being an accomodating and concerned type of person I wanted his date at our house to go well and yet at the same time I wished he could just get on with it with out the four alarm anxiety babble!
I wanted to say it’s just another date in a long line of dates why all the fuss? Because he really wants a normal relationship to start right this second and seemingly with anyone. And I understand because I too have been desperate for a normal relationship although not as desperate as that.Seems like(and we have often discussed this) he wants anyone to fill the partner shoes. I felt I was more discriminating than this in the past and I wanted the one I was sleeping with at the time to maybe fill these shoes. Oh whatever.Enough of this pop psychology.
So everything was going fine until my live in boyfriend decided to run off with the dog for a few hours,leaving me alone with the daters. Earlier, I’d rented The Descent and since this was ostensibly a dinner and movie date I offered that we watch this film and not the Family Guy DVDs the date had brought along.And I really really just wanted to watch this movie!
The problem was that A. had run off with Dog for an undetermined amount of time and so wouldn’t be around to watch this movie,too.It seemed like not a problem at the time because I told him we would probably watch it and by running off the way he did I assumed he didn’t care if we did.
Oh no.Not the case.
Granted there were more than what movie to watch tensions going on in our house last night –there was our roommate, a male, dating another male right in the living room and A. bless his heart isn’t as advanced as I am in the “whatever, so there are 2 guys cuddling on the sofa” way of thinking.And our gay roommate is aware that some guys aren’t as into gayness right in the house as other men might be; say, other gay men for example.
I looked at it this way: D. lives with us.D. is gay.D. wants a boyfriend.D. is bound to have men over to the house as is his right within reason as a rent-paying roommate.
A. doesn’t quite see it the same way. He is spoiled by our last roommate,G. who was never home because she was always at her boyfriend’s apartment– making her the ideal roommate: the never home but pays rent kind.
So when A. came home about an hour into the film he was obviously displeased.He and I use the same I Am Not Pleased tactics: we march into our bedroom and sulk.So that is what A. did.
When The Descent was over,I went in there to ask him what was up and he wouldn’t look at me and barely responded to my questions.
I felt put in the middle.
It was understood that for the livingroom portion of the date all were welcome to watch a movie along with the 2 daters(very generous of them,no?).
It was not my fault that A. wasn’t comfortable.It is A.’s problem not mine.
It isn’t my fault that A. chose to take a hike and not watch along with us a movie he knew I’d been dying to see for months. And he knows me: he knew I would probably give in to temptation and watch the movie with or without him. I know I shouldn’t have.
I tried to make it up to him by making a really good dinner but he remained sulky and went right to bed after he’d eaten.And I went in to kiss him goodnight and asked him not to be mad at me and he said let me sleep and tomorrow I won’t be mad at you anymore.
So when he woke me up today before going to work I asked him if he was still mad at me and he said no.But I still have the Blahs.
These 6 products including a 10 dollar in house mascara represents 170 giftcard dollars. I would never spend 170.00 dollars on make up but
I had a giftcard to Sephora for a lot of money.Well, to me it was a lot of money.
And it sat in my wallet for over a month. I figured I’d better spend it rather than lose it,right?
And so I went to the Sephora on Broadway and Prince and maybe that was my first mistake…because on Sunday afternoon in Soho, the crowds are tremendous.But I had planned to go next to Crate and Barrel to get wine glasses and then walk up to Trader Joes and get some stuff for dinner.So it made logistical sense to start at this particular Sephora store.But it didn’t make sense to deliberately subject myself to shopping in one of their smaller stores where stuff was sure to be sold out.Message to Sephora: you should never be sold out of anything! Seriously, that isn’t cool.Thanks to you I do not now own Clinique Crushed Grape lip sticky thing.
Will I die? No, but I won’t be as cute as I could be!
The best Sephora is on 34th and 8th.It is really huge and it’s 2 levels.And the top floor is usually totally empty.
I have a problem with the way Sephora lights it’s stores,too.
I sometimes have to hold an item away from the really bright lights in order to see what color it really is.This always makes me look a little strange since it looks like I am waving a lipstick in the air.But I just can’t see if it’s light or dark with a hot bright light in my eyes.
I also have a problem with the mirrors– they make me look like a junkie. I don’t look like a junkie, in other mirrors. I’m not a junkie by the way.Ok, mom and dad?
The mirror with the hot lights and suspect ulterior motives made me look like I was 1,000 years old. I really hate looking that old.I really really hate how no matter how nice I think I look before leaving the house I will always look awful in a Sephora mirror.
I usually let things like some redness around my nose slide but in S.’s mirror to not have something there is a big no no.So I scurry to Benefit because a lot of their stuff is for redness fighting. I bought Boi-ing the industrial strength concealor ..18 dollars.
I’d really intended just to get some perfume and maybe some fun makeup like eyeshadow or lipstick but seeing that I looked like an ancient pin eyed ghoul, I was forced to purchase a corrective product.
I have relied on Max Factor’s concealor for years and lately I’ve used it instead of all over foundation.But it isn’t really meant for all over your face.So I was looking for a stick foundation,too.But at this Sephora their testers are all used up or covered in lint.This is unfortunate.I’m not putting lint on my face,thanks.
I’d previously gone to the very well maintained store near the World Trade Center and loved the Make Up Forever stuff.But in Soho it was all covered in lint and used up and so I ended not buying any.
I did buy some cheek stain by Tarte in Flush. I really love it. I needed an alternative to just making my lipsticks do double duty as blush.
I bought some Stila stuff because I love Stila and don’t have any.I don’t know why but I am obsessed with having thicker eyebrows so I bought this thing that is supposed to do that called Brow Polish.The lipstick from Stila is Electra and it is just great.
The perfume…let’s just say that I kind of lost my ability to function by the time I got done testing out all 9 of Fresh’s scents. I ended up with Pomegranate Anise.It starts out smelling good but ends smelling a bit like those 8 dollar body sprays you can buy in Duane Reade.This means that on me it “turns”.And although it doesn’t smell bad–it just doesn’t warrant 75 bucks…I should’ve just gotten Fresh Sugar .I have Lemon Sugar already and it stays smelling the way it is supposed to on me.
I’d really meant to buy a perfume by Guerlain but Fresh won.That’s ok.
I have a $200 giftcard to Sephora.I haven’t spent a dime off of it yet. I got it for my birthday on Dec.4th and the guilt of getting stuff for myself even with a birthday giftcard instead of picking up x-mas gifts for my friends and family overwhelmed me.
But in the past I ‘ve been really bad about buying stuff for myself when I’m supposed to be getting stuff for other people but I don’t think I’m so unusual.I’m blessed with a normal amount of aquisitiveness.So when out to shop for others I’m bound to see a lot more stuff that I’d like to have,too.Anyway, everyone knows it’s easier to shop for yourself than someone else.There’s just so much stuff you can buy for your self that you can’t buy for someone else.Like shoes.Or pants.I hate to put someone throught the torture of trying to return a gift that they don’t like or need or want or that doesn’t fit.It seems like these days it gets harder to return stuff and one has to sign a contract before they get a credit or a refund with lines of customers sighing and fidgeting behind you as you get your issue sorted.
But now that things are back to normal and I am allowed to shop again for some reason I’m shy to go.
I’ve gone to Sephora plenty of times when I couldn’t spend more than 50 bucks.
Now I have a lot more than that and I guess I know what’s bound to happen.I’m going to get all nervous and cheap and try to keep a balance on the card instead of just buying like mad until every last cent is gone.
I love the makeup they have at Sephora and I love having new makeup but so many trips to the store to buy new makeup have returned disappointing results.
I no longer plaster every centimeter of my face with foundation and I no longer have to have powder on top of it in order to feel facially armed enough to go outside. I guess this is in part due to feeling more comfortable with the way I look to others.It took a few decades but thank God! Because it used to take me so fucking long to get myself made-up.And I probably could’ve used a few obsessive/compulsive treatments.Somehow though I grew out of it with only a few relapses now and then when I cannot make myself look “OK” according to my OCD.
It’s in part due to the fact that I never had perfect skin but I always wanted perfect skin and the only way in my mind to acheive it was to paint it on.Certainly any other method didn’t work.It wasn’t until I discovered a simple soap called Basis All Clear Bar that things got more under control.
And due to a past course of retinol my skin changed from quite impervious to really sensitive.I used retinol for about 3 years in my late teens and early 20’s. And it is my theory that it made me allergic to most facial moisturizers. I have tons of proof of this.I used to use a clinique moisturizer-the yellow one- but after retinol my face would react like it’d been burned.
I found the only thing I could use to keep my face from resembling a dried out river bed was plain old Vaseline.And we all know what Vaseline can do to exaserbate an already troubled skin.This is where Basis came in,it turned out that it was stress that mostly made my face break out…but processing stressful situations is a talent that comes with time,I guess.I really didn’t need the big guns of retinol after all. Turns out a simple glycerine soap with tea tree oil was sufficient to combat minor zits from occurring.
And to go back to the make up issue-I’ve noticed that since I stopped using so much everyday my skin looks a lot better naturally.It really does go hand in hand in my case;less make up equals less breakouts and therefore less need for make up in the first place!
But don’t worry I’ll empty that giftcard–you can be sure of that.
I’m also a perfume junkie 🙂 And there’s this bottle of Guerlain that smells like oranges just calling to me.I wish Sephora was in Brooklyn.But that’s another story.
The holidays really messed up my laundry schedule this past week.
The laundromat insisted on closing New Year’s day. See? they do not care about me!Thanks to their selfishness I had to wait another whole day–with 2 more sets of dirty clothes to wash added.
I didn’t do anything on that day.Anyone sensible gets their freak on the night before and wakes up around four pm with an over driving desire to do that laundry…that embarrassing pile stacked at the foot of one’s bed and by stacked I mean you have just enough foot room to navigate from bed to door.
Did you have New Year’s eve sex? No? Yes? Me neither. I was in the hut,
banished from possibly cursing my boyfriends spear and making him liable to miss that vital shot at dinner…if I touched it when I had my period.Trust me, there is no spear touching going on when I have my dot. I guess we all have our hang ups and a ban on sex when the little lady is having “women’s troubles” is my b.f’s.
So yesterday was my chance to haul all eighty pounds of our combined clothes(most of it comprised of my man’s socks) to The Wash Cycle 340 Myrtle ave.
A pre-laundry haul scavenger hunt turned up a tidy stack of quarters which cut down on the expenditure of actual folding money thereby enabling me to purchase some seventy nine cent bags of Lender’s bagels.
I haven’t been so poor since I lived alone in Manhattan desperately clinging to my $1,110 a month apartment!
And while I expect some money to come in any day now, it hasn’t come yet and I need it.My one good bottle of wine policy is being flouted.I have 2 mediocre bottles.One of the caliber of deli wine and the other brought to me from Israel, which in Israel costs about 7 dollars but here in NYC costs around 27 if you can find it…so I am sort of saving it. *authors note: I drank it.
All anyone needs in order to enjoy some good old fashioned manual labor is 3 hours of sleep and cramps.It’s great.
My laundromat is not fancy.You do not have to purchase their little plastic card,then go through a twenty minute tutorial on how to put money on the card then guess how to use their machines,then go put more money on the card…you get the idea.
I live in the ghetto. I can only say this about the proprietors: a never ending supply of quarters(extremely rare, you know) plus hell hot dryers paired with lots and lots colorful folks from my neighbourhood=an awesome adventure! Apparently –on the day when I am absolutely forced to gather up my dirty clothes because I am down to wearing strange outfit combinations around the house because all my lounge wear is soiled– is also the day when 20 (7) member families have decided to take a family picnic…in the laundromat. I know I love to fix a 3 course meal and take my people to the mat in order to really enjoy it.All those tables! So what if they are for folding clean, dry clothes? They make such handy lunch counters.
When I am sort of in pain and haven’t had enough sleep I become alarmingly jovial if not witty.And my wry observations usually take place only inside my head . Last night roommaty thing D. who is as laundry inclined as I am, accompanied me so I was able to pass the grueling hours a little more pleasantly than usual.
Although D was sort of reeling from a marathon of dirty sex and partying(euphemism totally implied here) and the walk up Carlton gave him the cold sweats, we had a fine time listening to the obese woman with a skin condition berate her obese daughter for not noticing when another customer began to remove their clothes from the dryer—
Obviously a man who paid attention to details like numbered dryers and not to the fact that these weren’t his clothes.His terrified reaction to mother’s truculant “wtf are you touching my clothes for?!” , “this is dryer number 4! squeak! My clothes were here…” squeak! They’d been removed earlier and he was tardy.
I did my folding and packing we got the hell out of there.