For anyone who loves animals, this is a beautiful story.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Thank you for being a friend
Actually, she was my top "friend."
Godspeed Estelle Getty. You were one funny old broad.
Godspeed Estelle Getty. You were one funny old broad.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
We will rock you
July 13, 1985. I was riding in the car back from vacation in Cape Cod. And the greatest musical event of all time was taking place in London and Philadelphia. But we had to listen to baseball on the radio. Thankfully, we got home in time to catch the tail end of London and the rest of the Philadelphia sets. It was glorious.
I got the DVD set from Live Aid when it came out, so I could relive all the moments. U2 with Bono rocking a wicked mullet (still a God). Madonna singing "Holiday," Mick Jaggar and Tina Turner belting out "It's Only Rock and Roll," Phil Collins playing London, boarding the Concord and playing again in Philly.
Amazing that Bob Geldof hadn't wanted it recorded at all. Thank God MTV and other outlets didn't follow the rules. If they had, we wouldn't have this. Arguably the best set of the entire show. Freddie Mercury commanded the attention of every person in the audience, and Queen's set still gives me goosebumps!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Me look pretty one day
The package arrived while I was out of town. When I finally got my hands on it, I giggled with delight. Pulling at the tape of the box, anxious to see the treasures inside. I finally got it open and there they were. Three beautiful new compacts.
Call me crazy, but I think one of my simple little pleasures is the first time I use new makeup. The white sponge of the applicator sweeps across the virgin color. Yes, I am a girly girl. I love makeup. Love it.
I still remember discovering my mother's makeup in the bathroom. It was a pink Mary Kay compact, full of different colored eye shadows. There was something about the color, the smell of the makeup that just had me hooked. I itched to try it out. I've been hooked ever since. My first eye shadow of my very own was from Maybelline. There were three colors, all shades of purple. I had seen it in Young Miss magazine (when YM was still called Young Miss).
There were some definite lows in the late 80s, when bright colors were in. For some reason, I thought the brightest blue eyeliner was a perfect match for electric blue mascara. Then again, I thought I looked good with blond hair. Another lesson learned.
Today I have a drawer filled with powders and shadows. Tuges of lipstick and bottles of nail polish or toe polish, as I call it, since I don't paint my finger nails.
I don't know what it is about makeup that makes it a borderline addiction, but it probably has something to do with a need to be pretty. Growing up, I never felt like I was pretty enough. I always thought the other girls I went to school with were so much prettier. The boys liked them better. I wore glasses and had braces and unruly hair. I felt awkward standing next to them. Like an ugly, invisible duckling.
The braces came off, and I got contacts. (The hair, however, remained unruly.) Using makeup became a way for me to try and level the playing field. To try and turn a sow's ear into some sort of purse, even if it wasn't necessarily a silk one. I felt better about the way I looked. I still felt invisible and not necessarily good enough, but at least I had pretty blue eyelashes.
(as a side note, I would just like to say that I have known some beautiful girls who were absolutely hideous people. I know beauty is only skin deep. I like to think of myself as a good person on the inside, I just want the outside to look nice too)
Don't get me wrong. I am far from Tammy Faye in my love of makeup. Sensitive skin and super sensitive eyes have greatly limited what I can and can't use. I remember the day Mr. Louie, who used to cut my hair (until he butchered it!!!), dragged me over to a makeup table and put under-eye concealer on me. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was actually pretty! "I'll take whatever it was you just used." I said slowly, praying quietly I wouldn't leave there looking like I had smoked at least two bongs.
New products are always approached with longing and hope that they won't cause my eyes to freak out or my face to get blotchy (wow, I sound more attractive by the minute, don't I?!). I love to experiment with colors. In spite of what Almay thinks (damn my sensitive eyes), not all people with blue eyes wear the same colors. When I find something that doesn't cause a skin/eye emergency, I have a little mini celebration in my head. New products! Oh the joy of it! Call me vain, but I feel like that little girl looking at her mother's Mary Kay eye shadows all over again. But prettier.
Call me crazy, but I think one of my simple little pleasures is the first time I use new makeup. The white sponge of the applicator sweeps across the virgin color. Yes, I am a girly girl. I love makeup. Love it.
I still remember discovering my mother's makeup in the bathroom. It was a pink Mary Kay compact, full of different colored eye shadows. There was something about the color, the smell of the makeup that just had me hooked. I itched to try it out. I've been hooked ever since. My first eye shadow of my very own was from Maybelline. There were three colors, all shades of purple. I had seen it in Young Miss magazine (when YM was still called Young Miss).
There were some definite lows in the late 80s, when bright colors were in. For some reason, I thought the brightest blue eyeliner was a perfect match for electric blue mascara. Then again, I thought I looked good with blond hair. Another lesson learned.
Today I have a drawer filled with powders and shadows. Tuges of lipstick and bottles of nail polish or toe polish, as I call it, since I don't paint my finger nails.
I don't know what it is about makeup that makes it a borderline addiction, but it probably has something to do with a need to be pretty. Growing up, I never felt like I was pretty enough. I always thought the other girls I went to school with were so much prettier. The boys liked them better. I wore glasses and had braces and unruly hair. I felt awkward standing next to them. Like an ugly, invisible duckling.
The braces came off, and I got contacts. (The hair, however, remained unruly.) Using makeup became a way for me to try and level the playing field. To try and turn a sow's ear into some sort of purse, even if it wasn't necessarily a silk one. I felt better about the way I looked. I still felt invisible and not necessarily good enough, but at least I had pretty blue eyelashes.
(as a side note, I would just like to say that I have known some beautiful girls who were absolutely hideous people. I know beauty is only skin deep. I like to think of myself as a good person on the inside, I just want the outside to look nice too)
Don't get me wrong. I am far from Tammy Faye in my love of makeup. Sensitive skin and super sensitive eyes have greatly limited what I can and can't use. I remember the day Mr. Louie, who used to cut my hair (until he butchered it!!!), dragged me over to a makeup table and put under-eye concealer on me. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was actually pretty! "I'll take whatever it was you just used." I said slowly, praying quietly I wouldn't leave there looking like I had smoked at least two bongs.
New products are always approached with longing and hope that they won't cause my eyes to freak out or my face to get blotchy (wow, I sound more attractive by the minute, don't I?!). I love to experiment with colors. In spite of what Almay thinks (damn my sensitive eyes), not all people with blue eyes wear the same colors. When I find something that doesn't cause a skin/eye emergency, I have a little mini celebration in my head. New products! Oh the joy of it! Call me vain, but I feel like that little girl looking at her mother's Mary Kay eye shadows all over again. But prettier.
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