No point looking at life in the rearview mirror: part 1 of my dead mall series.

Editorial correction: kimono. Bling! store in mall.

“I finally look human,” was my thrilled reply while examining the sale’s associate’s finished results.

I was nearly moved to tears. The friendly Dillard’s sales associate at the makeup counter said I had a very nice, fair complexion after I told her I thought my tattoos looked terrible and how embarrassed I am by them. And for the first time in twenty-three years I felt like I was fifteen all over again before I made the lifetime mistake of inking my skin.

I gazed in amazement at my arm. I was so blown away by how the estee lauder double wear foundation makeup is very good, if not terrific. I had ventured into Dillard’s to find some Derma-Blend makeup, but was told to try Sephora in another city. Traveling long distance is out of the question. I have seen Derma-Blend sold on Amazon and I might have to order some. And another helpful Dillard’s employee recommended I try applying some red makeup over my tattoos first to hide the blue tone, then finish off with the skin-tone makeup.

I left Dillard’s feeling a boost of hope for the inexpensive route of hiding my hideous tattoos. Those that don’t me would likely think, “What’s the big deal? Everybody pretty much sports tattoos nowadays. It’s fashionable.” I will have to disagree. I view my tattoos as being one of those lifetime regrets.

I wouldn’t say I was a trend-setter back in my 80’s generation, per se, and I’m sure I wasn’t the first to have inked her skin at sixteen. I did it much to my parent’s dismay and worry. I didn’t have very many good role models aside from my straight-laced typical 80s parents throughout my teens to look up to. My older sister was the first to get a tattoo on her arm when she was a teenager and it made a bold statement. Perhaps a part of me was highly impressionable although she strongly advised me not to get a tattoo because I’d later regret it. She turned out to be right about that. I do regret mine.

And the therapy sessions I had at sixteen (per my request), turned out to be a nightmare and it was through my [then] new therapist they told me how to get a tattoo as a way to “Rebel against your parents,” Up until this point at sixteen I never dreamed to do that and now regret putting my parents through a lot of unnecessary grief.

Should-have, would-haves and could-haves… like my college instructor told me three years ago, life is too short and we shouldn’t live in the past since we can’t change it. And they’re right about that. All we can do is move on and live life to its fullest.

Was I rebellious at sixteen? Well, if you constitute spoofing my parent’s rules in a comic book as a form of being out of hand, then no. I did push the envelope growing up, but did so through my unique, mismatched fashion. I was a trend-setter in that regard. I liked to make outdated fashion statements, but was quiet most of the time. I wasn’t very out-spoken at sixteen. I took out my emotions through drawing or I’d wear the heavy metal bracelets and pair those with the most gaudy 70’s bell bottoms I could find in thrift stores. I wore something very similar to platform boots (the originals straight out of the 70s) that zipped up mid-calf and I bought a second-hand 60’s fringe hippie vest that I just loved. So I clashed with my fashion statements. If that’s the only terrible thing [pre-tattoos] I could have ever done to rebel against my parents, then it’s laughable by today’s standards and hardly worth a mention.

But for that moment standing there in Dillard’s I got a little teary-eyed seeing my skin clear for the first time, and this was a real self-esteem booster for me. I felt alive again like I was no longer tied to that dark chapter of my long gone teenage years.  I was impressed how well the sale’s associate did trying to match the colors with my fair skin tone using only dark makeup they had on hand in the store. I was very pleased seeing no hideous tattoos covering my arm. I did all my tattoos at sixteen under the wrong advice of one very misguided adult therapist, by the way.

At sixteen I had erroneously believed that all therapists were well-trained in their chosen field and knew how to reach teenagers and help them find healthier alternatives, like say, for example, temporary tattoos that wash off with soap and water. Needless to say that wasn’t even an option nor did it ever come up in any of my one-on-one therapy sessions. And I was proven very wrong about my [then] teenage assumptions about therapists and it only further solidified my distrust of adults around me growing up.

And for a brief time I had my nose pierced as a teenager. This is, until my dad’s grandmother saw it and asked me to promptly remove it. It simply shocked her and my intentions weren’t to do that since body piercings were relatively a new trend that was taking a slow hold by around…oh, I’d say, 1993 or thereabouts. I see it didn’t catch on until around 20o8 or so.

My nose piercing didn’t last long, thankfully. But what I would like to address is the possibility of having a deviated septum (nasal cavity damage) as a result of nose piercings and the inability to fight off colds. Speaking for myself I tended to come down with colds often when I had my nose piercing. Oh, yeah, and there’s a good chance it could become infected no matter how well the piercing is kept clean, which is another good reason why I took it out and let my nose heal.

I was amazed I made it into adulthood. And nowadays I would love to re-capture the good parts of my teen years since not all of them started off bad. (And wouldn’t we all want to re-live our good moments?) 🙂

If you made it to adulthood without doing drugs consider yourself among the lucky ones that made the right decision to just say no. Other than having been a transfer student most of my teen years, and moving around a lot back in the day, the adjustments were always rough on me. New town, new clique of school kids. Oh and did I mention, a massively large student body population at each new school? Yep, and then come in the bullies though they made up the average annoyances I had to put up with at school, minus the private and religious schools where I had thrived.

Now bullies of my generation were more of the “I pick on everybody!” type. They didn’t exclude the popular kids. And the popular kids were these very stuck up, aloof teenagers that would move to another table in the cafeteria just to ignore the unpopular kids (yours truly included). I had never seen this strange new social pecking order in any of the private and religious schools I had attended. It happened quite a bit in the public school systems. And I found making friends and maintaining friendships nearly impossible for me since my family moved around quite a bit which means I’d lose contact eventually.

I didn’t come from a military family. But wherever there was better pay, nicer neighborhoods and a chance at a better education, that’s where my family would re-locate, and believe me, being a transfer student comes with large amounts of stress that I was unprepared to deal with at sixteen. I was in all sense of the word, ‘lost’. I came from a very nice, one classroom religious school where the older students tutored the younger students when the teacher was busy only to be thrust back into public school for the umpteenth time. Arrg!

Public schools never worked for me. I wasn’t delinquent as a juvenile. I wasn’t a trouble maker. I didn’t sass back to the teachers. I didn’t skip school. I didn’t cheat on my homework. I had mountains of homework that took me from five in the evening until five that next morning to finish. I ran on maybe one hour of sleep on any given weekday. My hair and makeup were slapped together and most mornings I’d leave the house on an empty stomach and take my vitamins without breakfast just so I could make it to the bus stop on time. I looked strung out because I was exhausted. There’s such a thing as overworking oneself and that’s what I did to in order to make the grade. I guzzled soda like coffee back then. I still ate lunch and dinner and I skateboarded for entertainment, too.

I was held back here and there a few grades. And as I became older and the school kids were younger than me and this created a lot of friction. I had a studious attitude that was often misinterpreted as having a small chip on my small shoulders, when in fact, I wasn’t. I had very little patients for my younger peers immaturity and sarcasm and I take life very seriously.

Yet when I was in the religious schools, my grades improved by leaps and bounds, and I’d like to hope, my nature was relaxed and laid back. I got along great with the religious kids, no problems there. I was in familiar surroundings in those religious schools, I’d say much like the mall with their outdated floors, interiors, stores—maybe not so much the merchandise and music stores are a thing of the past just about.

And my biggest addiction growing up as a teenager has always been music. It was whatever the music industry cranked out: heavy metal, thrash and speed metal like Metallica and Anthrax I simply loved. Surprisingly, I was never a fan of Guns n’ Roses (or ‘GnR’ for short back in my day) because I felt Axl Rose was mean to make his fans wait two hours before the concert began, and he threw adult temper tantrums and would storm off the stage mid-set. Although, I did find that two of their songs grew on me, “Civil War” which was popular on the radio in 1990. I especially related well to actress Anne Ramsey’s intro: “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate, and some men you just can’t reach.  So you get what we had here last week. Which is the way he wants it, well, he gets it. I don’t like this anymore than you do,”

And I liked the song “Used to love Her,” which my mother hated due to its questionable lyrics. It was actually about Axl’s dog. And neither me nor my older sister were allowed to have the Guns n’ Roses 1988 album Lies, Lies, Lies.I also liked two of [Glenn] Danzig’s songs: Twist of Cane and Mother. Those grew on me.

I did like two songs by Megadeth, “Symphony of Destruction” and “Hanger 18” which were popular on the radio in 1991. I didn’t discover Iron Maiden until I was fifteen and then stumbled upon their eary stuff which lead me to discover W.A.S.P. (another 80s heavy metal/ shock rock category band). I still have all of my original Iron Maiden and W.A.S.P. LP’s from the 1980s. And I was a huge Def Leppard fan, especially of their earlier stuff. Back in 1993 I never did find a copy of their 1982 song, “Me and my Wine”. I loved the video of this song so much and later was told it could be on their High and Dry album. Hey, that’s like, totally awesome, but which release? The U.K. version or was it ever on the U.S. release? I have said LP and can’t find it. I managed to find it on youtube years later so that sufficed.

If it’s heavy metal, rock, hard rock, classic rock, 80s power ballads, then I enjoy it all pretty much and managed to find it on LP as well. And I also loved all those Ronco and K-Tel produced disco albums as a teenager. I have a few of them still. I didn’t buy into the “it’s the devil’s music,” that was strongly coming from the religious community back in the day and a lot of 80s parents were decrying the same thing, “It’s the devil’s music.” Yet, we’d have this tug-o-war power struggle going on: parents give a little, and their kids will take it a mile. And when we’ve reached this new millennium, our musicians are now veterans in their own right.

And growing up we weren’t joined at the hip with cell phones, texting devices, nor Facebook. I think that would have annoyed me as a teenager because I like actual in person chatting. As teenagers we hung out at the mall and made fun of the mall walkers. That’s something that’s a lost pastime; teenagers hanging out at the mall thanks in large part to those darn thug mobs that ruined it for this upcoming generation. Growing up cell phones (at least from what I remember them resembling) were likened to those satellite car phones that you might glimpse in a 70’s action movie and they looked like old-fashioned landline phones.

Any good deals on the sale racks? A few, but I mostly came for the purpose to price the makeup to cover my tattoos with. Old Navy has a large clearance section, but looks are deceiving. Their price differences aren’t much of a huge savings, but they do have some awesome wardrobe ideas. Now the skinny jeans and/ or jeggings I stumbled upon in Maurice’s and Bling! are way out of my league. I can’t justify these store’s prices. I believe from Maurice’s their jeggings were $34.99-42.00 for one pair. From Bling! a similar pair of distressed skinny jeans will cost around $42.00.

And they had a rayon leopard print kimono for $32.99. That’s an outrageous price I thought. It’s totally awesome on the mannequin in the store window, but looks like someone had just cut out a large bolt of fabric from Jo-Ann’s and draped it over the shoulders and didn’t bother to stitch it together correctly. Not complaining about the lack of shape or form of said kimono (shown in picture) because I realize they’re supposed to have a loose drape with that style, but it resembled an over-sized poncho in my eyes, and on me when I tried it on, I practically swam in it and it was a size small. It appeared to be one of those ‘one size fits all’ garments. I don’t believe I wasted the cell phone battery to snap a picture. I’m not much of a selfie person. What else did I see? I didn’t go to any other stores, but might pop into Books-a-Million and price their comic books. I still buy on occasion comic books. Superman was my favorite and so was Tales from the Crypt, which let’s face it, those were some creepy comics that were a throw back to the 1950s E.C.’s creepy comics that were re-issued in 1990. I had a whole stack of them and my parents threw them away because they felt like they were too graphic. Thanks for liking, re-blogging, sharing, tweeting, reading and commenting. I always appreciate it. Stay tuned for more dead mall series. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beauty and the—yikes, it’s not the beast, but something very close to it.

Now after that blog about sandals and high heels comes the bigger picture and it’s not always pretty: the disgusting flirtatious dirty older men that are attracted to a beautiful “too-young-for them” woman. I’m talking about baby boomer aged men that are so desperate for a date, some can’t even carry on a coherent conversation with me.

And it’s not that I’m trying to be patient, because that wears thin after being detained for fifteen minutes, but I really haven’t found a polite way yet to get these kind of men to leave me alone. Listening to these nervous men yammer on while not even allowing me to get a word in edge wise in a normal conversation is a tall-tale sign for me that something’s amiss. And their utter lack of respecting my personal space gets on my nerves, too.

I was wholly unprepared for a checker at a local grocery store to deliver me a message that an older male customer would like to ask me out on a date, yet they were almost too afraid to even introduce themselves to me for the longest time. The checker told the customer that he wasn’t even sure I was the ‘dating type’. This mystery date ‘never-will-be’ finally did introduce himself to me and wound up detaining me until closing time so I never got to get my discounted fresh strawberries. I try to make it a point to have fresh fruit at all times since I eat a majority of that and leafy greens.

This guy was so nervous in my company he couldn’t carry on a simple coherent conversation and they never got my name correct after I had said it six times which doesn’t bother me. But it sent up red warning flags in my mind when a guy can’t seem to hardly speak or even allow me to speak, then I know something’s wrong. It has nothing to do with the guy being socially awkward. It has a lot to do possibly with the man knowing he’s way out of his league but will never admit to it.

And the other encounter was actually from a random stranger on a different day. Again a much older man approached me in public and had the nerve to get right in my face, and told me how sexy that was. I look myself over in the muggy midday heat. My hair is damp with sweat and it doesn’t help I have on a black shirt that absorbs the heat. I just kicked some major bind weed’s ass in the garden and I tilled and mulched it. I was hot, exhausted and all I want are my fresh strawberries and maybe some Broccoli, is that too much to ask for? I put on a pair of no-frills sandals on my feet this day in particular and my Daisy Dukes weren’t showing too much skin so I thought.

I find myself being detained out in the hot summer sun for a good five minutes by some homely old man who thinks he’s Mr. Casanova. He’s got tobacco-stained teeth. And that doesn’t impress me. In fact, it’s a good sign this guy has never been to a dentist or cared about his oral health because he was also missing a few teeth as well.

As this guy continues to flirt with me, he then asked me out for dinner sometime just “as friends”. My jaw dropped in disbelief and snapped shut. I quickly look at my new pair of second hand sandals I wore and at my reflection in the store’s large window. I was damning myself for my wardrobe selection instead of opting for a pair of uncomfortable work jeans that would easily caused me to suffer heat stroke on this day in particular. All the while  he had me detained, I was thinking of what was going into another donation bag when I did get home: my new shorts I wore that day. I felt like donating everything ‘summer attire’ I spent good money on and just forget about trying to look beautiful. But I was strongly encouraged not to make a hasty mistake because a woman has all the right in the world to feel comfortable, stay as cool as possible in the summer, and still look her best.

And there’s one thing these older men I keep encountering like pesky flies all seem to have in common: they’re always so nervous to talk to me it’s almost like a gushing, swooning teenage girl meeting Elvis in person for the first time (when he was young and caused a huge stir on the Ed Sullivan show). But this is how I envision these older, very unattractive types of men that try to hit on me quite often. I do get tired of it. Any woman would. These types of men know they’re out of their league, but they still keep on with the flirtations until it downright hacks me off. Ever polite, I don’t create a scene. I don’t become rude or impatient though maybe I should with these types. And turning them down politely would likely cause them to either cry like a baby or to turn psycho.

And trying to appear beautiful comes with all the unwanted lecherous advances from said unattractive much older men that are in most cases very inept when it comes to speaking with women. And nearly most of these men lack of manners, have no clue about a woman’s personal space even when she hints strongly through her body language and takes a few steps back. The guy will just lean in more and get right in my face and is oblivious by my reaction.

And all these older guys either reek of booze, smell like an ash tray, or their poor hygiene speaks volumes. They really think they stand a chance dating a beautiful woman that’s clearly out of their league and age range? Give me a break. There’s got to be some clean cut, down to earth, sober men out there that don’t smoke, have drug and/ or alcohol addictions, take exceptionally good care of themselves and are snappy dressers. But those types of clean cut men I’ve never seen yet. I get accosted by the dirty clothed, disheveled appearance, pot-bellied, smelly, bald and gray-haired unattractive men.

I’m not talking about a ‘sugar daddy’ type of man with a massive fortune he spends on a young woman. I’m talking about the kind of dirt poor older baby boomer-aged man that isn’t married (and there’s another red warning flag in my mind anyway as to why not to some lady closer to his age in some cases).

I read one article that clearly missed the point about older men dating younger women. And the person who wrote the article stated that young women should be flattered that a man as old as her father and in some cases grandfather would want to date her. He may not be able to satisfy her intimately and he may not have much money, either. But if Hugh Hefner was penniless and living in a nursing home and on state insurance, for example, then all those bleach blonde, young gals wouldn’t shed their clothes for some wrinkly old man. And I’m sure a lot could be said about the aging baby boomer men that try desperately to get dates with much younger attractive women. If she’s high matience, then forget it. She’ll waste no time with a broke man. If she’s a sensible young woman, she’ll look for a guy in her age group. And if the woman is still very attractive at any age, she’ll discover that all the descent men are very hard to find. Instead, she may attract the wrong kind of attention from less desirable, homely men.

Therefore, I suspect this article was written by some twenty-hipster that hasn’t had much life experience dealing with these types of unsavory dirty old men. If they’re not financially okay, what more could he offer a young woman when he complains that he doesn’t want to work or move out of his elderly parents basement? And if nobody has clued these men in about their personal hygiene that’s beyond disgusting. Believe me, no woman would want to wear a clothes pin on her nose for the length of a relationship. And I’m not talking about those ‘big baby’ men that need a mother figure to look after them hand and foot nor am I talking about the mama’s boys, although I’d say most of these encounters with these homely men could fall into the “Mama’s Boy” category.

And if an older man struggles financially for whatever the reason may be and they’re always complaining about how they don’t have any money to even buy one bag of groceries says a lot! That to me sends up a few more red flags up in my mind. Financial instability for a man is a very bad sign. And if he can’t even cover the three fundamentals for survival: food, clothing, and shelter, then something’s very wrong.

I realize these economic times are very dismal and to make ends meet is difficult on everybody. Yet, it’s that little voice of reason telling me some more complex problem(s) lay at the root of it all and most of these older men that have tried to either ask me out on a date or flirt with me to the point of it being a nuisance makes me think, “Good grief! Enough already! I’m clearly NOT interested in the likes of you.”

And they also complain they don’t want to find a job. They’re quite happy trying to re-sell yard sale and thrift store finds through online auctions while living out of their parents basement. That right there doesn’t set well with me at all. You grow up and try to find some part time job. You learn to save your money and while you’re at it, wash up with some soap and water and buy some shampoo and conditioner and a stick of deodorant. And when their elderly parents do try to urge them to find a place of their own and move out, the said older guy argues with his parents about that and storms off mad. Again, a young woman, if she can help it, doesn’t want to get involved with a man like that. And if they don’t have any desire to work, then young woman, beware! These unemployed types are very bad news and nothing to get tangled up with.

More often than not these particular types of men seem to lack the motivation to change their circumstances for the better, nor will they ever put forth the effort to change their immature attitudes, grow up, become clean-shaven and descent. They may put on a good act in front of a beautiful woman, but after she gets to know him and his insecurities, he’ll likely wind up controlling her every move and then it escalates from there going from bad to worse.

But what will get me to complain the most is the lack of respect these older men have when they get into my face and seem to think I have no problem with that. On the contrary, I simply hate that and back off. But they don’t get the hint and lean in more which really irritates the heck out of me.

I haven’t mastered to just pretend like I don’t hear and keep right on walking or leave the store immediately and screw it if the poor checker has to re-stock the shelves of the items I had in my cart. If there’s anything that will make my s*** list really fast it’s when a homely old man gets into my face and tells me how sexy that is while eying me up and down. He is so vague and can’t talk right that it comes off sounding really dumb.

And just a side note to the all the young men out there that try to hit on me (whether your intentions are just for kicks or you’re really sincere); I’m honestly flattered by your compliments on my t-shirt and mistaking me for a young woman who could be 21 or 23. That makes me feel great 🙂  but please, don’t ask me point blank how old I am. Some women (not all) feel uncomfortable by this. It’s still considered very rude when a man asks a woman how old she is straight off the bat.

I happily reply that I’m old enough to be your mother (a young one at that) and leave the rest unsaid. But to the young fellow who approached me at the mall today who looked like a bad extra from a Vanilla Ice hip hop rap video: so you liked my high heels, did ya’ since you commented on how you liked them… well, I hate to burst your bubble, but they’re too small to fit you, gosh darn it. 😦

And one other thing: knock it off with the bombardment of repetitious comments “I like your shirt!” and “I still like those shoes!” They’re called high heels, but I won’t dock you any points for not knowing since you told me you turned twenty-one last week and maybe don’t have a girlfriend that’s clued you in on the differences in footwear. If you like my high heels so much then why not pop into rue 21 and find a pair for yourself since you seem to have all the time in the world and chill at the arcade.

And quit trying to peddle magazines for our troops and their families while at the mall. It’s called solicitation and I’m amazed that mall security didn’t kick your young obnoxious butt out of the mall. Young fellow you failed to solicit your material to other mall shoppers and just hung out at the arcade with your friends and kept on with your same comments every time you saw me. Somehow I feel your intentions weren’t genuine and you weren’t really serious about gleaning insight in what it takes to find a job like you told me. It’s called going online and submitting your cover letter and a resume. I just can’t fathom how you made it this far without a ‘stepping stone’ form of employment unless you’re one of those trust fund babies.

And there’s the other type of ‘old’ man that gets on my nerves: the ‘sober for four months’ kind. That’s great that you found a way to quit the booze, but trying to impress a woman by admitting that to her off the bat will let her know you’re definitely not a fella to get tangled up with unless she herself is a raging alcoholic.

All these unattractive type of guys see a pretty woman they know is way out of their league, but still they’ll relentlessly hound them and the minutes drag on forever! If their breath doesn’t reek of garlic, then it smells like an ash tray or booze and their personal hygiene is really off-putting. Whether a woman sports high heels, flats, shoes, flip flops, she just can’t escape the lecherous advances of these particular type of aging baby boomers try as she might especially if she has shapely strong legs. And I’ve even had a man drive by me once, honked and smiled.

They drove by so fast I just slowed down on my stroll, not certain who it was that honked at me or why. The same vehicle appeared again and pulled into a businesses drive way just a few feet in front of me blocking my path. They roll down their window and flashed a gold tooth smile at me. I do the very stupid thing and make run in front of on coming traffic (jay running, not  jay walking in this instance) to evade the creep in the truck. I believe he got the strong message I wasn’t interested, and believe me, that’s a very bad example of how not to pick up a woman (literally).

And then there’s the other type of disgusting man who will practically hang out of the open passenger car window while shouting at the pretty woman walking down the sidewalk while his friend slows the car down. And that’s why it’s good to have a pair of headphones on to ignore these kinds of weirdos. I just thought to myself, “Gee, hope he doesn’t fall out of that car and hit his head on the pavement. That would hurt.”

Immaturity knows no age limit it seems like and neither does being socially awkward. And why do these men all seem to display such immaturity and get all tongue-tied towards beautiful women? Half the time they just make a scene and other times they make themselves look like a jerk and it just embarrasses the woman. And I have never spoken to other women that might have found themselves in similar situations when an unattractive old man tries to hit on them and how they’d handle it. Likely, they wouldn’t give the older man the time of day which is what I need to start doing.

Thanks for liking, tweeting, commenting, re-blogging, sharing. I truly appreciate it as always. 🙂

 

 

The Studio Rockstar nail polish kits: Glitzy Glitter Glam and Neon color 6 packs:

Okay, it’s actually five different items I’m writing about. I returned to Dollar General and bought the last “glitzy glitter glam” 6 pack Studio Rockstar nail polish, and the regular neon-colored Studio Rockstar 6 pack nail polish which doesn’t glow in the dark (pictured). The regular neon kit did have an interesting shade of purple which looks awesome. I also purchased a nail dryer kit from L.A. Colors. Now the reason why I will not be using L.A. Colors nail polishes is due to the dangerous chemicals and the high levels of Formaldehyde content. I double-checked the Rockstar brand nail polish chemicals, and although, they do reek of chemicals, decided to get it because I can always use these nail polishes for multi-purposes. If you ever find yourself in a bind and need some paint to finish small projects, then nail polishes come in very handy for that especially if you get snowed in and get bored of the internet.

I also purchased some more nail polish by a company called Sinful Colors. It’s a brand of nail polish that doesn’t contain the nasty three dangerous chemicals. Sinful Colors is DPB, Toluene, and Formaldehyde free. I found some at Big Lots for $1.95. And if your Big Lots has a vast aisle of cosmetics, they may stock some different colors. I found the standard ‘black’ and a metallic blue that’s very close to what I used to wear as a teenager.

I’ll admit I’m not an expert to all this new nail art, but it looks very pretty and fancy. Therefore, I did get one package of tiny flower stickers. I also looked at the many styles and designs of acrylic nails, but didn’t buy any of those since I don’t wear plastic nails.

So here’s my partial visual review of the L.A. Colors nail polish and nail dryer kit:

Everything was complete. I tested out the mini nail dryer that takes two AA batteries and it operates. Whether or not it will do as advertised and dry nails in a matter of minutes has yet to be seen. And as soon as I test it out, I can then give my rating of the product. This nail polish kit comes with an Emory board, nail brush (looks like a blush brush to me), finger rest pan which is actually a thin black piece of molded plastic. And four small bottles of vibrant colors of nail polish (hot pink and teal, purple, and red). This kit also includes the nail dryer, some loose glitter, tiny beads, and other jewels to apply to the fingernails, and one package of 10 one-time-use self-adhesive colorful design stickers for your fingernails. Since I have no experience with the nail stickers, I don’t know how good these are. There were a few more L.A. Colors nail polish kits mixed in with the ‘Not part of the after Christmas’ sale items. I overheard the checker tell another customer that the sugar sprinkles or some baking item that was clearly Christmas related wasn’t part of their after Christmas sale. I’m sure the customer wasn’t happy to hear that and I heard a small fuss made over it while I was busy making my selection.

And when I got up to the counter, the checker made it very clear to me that the nail kits weren’t part of the sale and asked me whether or not I still wanted them. Of, course I did. I knew they weren’t part of the sale since that was already made clear to me with the last glow-in-the-dark finger nail polish kit I bought. It’s just crazy sometimes why they leave the last minute gift ideas in with the Christmas items that are half off. Anywho, I’m stocked up as far as nail polishes/ nail care items are concerned. And yes, I also bought the nail buffer kit too this time. Thanks for liking, sharing, re-blogging, commenting. I truly appreciate it. 🙂 I will have another blog on my shredded jeans up soon to give the do-it-yourselfer a better look at how to re-create these awesome 80’s jeans.

“Pardon me, but you’re too old to be wearing that eye shadow…”

And that was the deciding factor on my first [and last] trip to a hair academy. I was told that the more vibrant, colorful, shimmer and glitter-like eye shadows are for the younger generation and it looks too juvenile on me and inappropriate for a woman of thirty-something. The hair stylist’s comment really hurt me. I could feel it devouring more of my already low self-esteem on this day. At least I can’t say I didn’t put forth an effort to appear professional, ‘career woman’ like.

And the comment came from a twenty-year-old hair stylist that did my hair and makeover one cold, sunny pre-spring day. I was experiencing an incredible low point in my life during the beginning of this year when I was pre-selected to enter a pilot career program that had disaster written all over it (not literally, but it was poorly implemented) and terribly flawed from the start. It was one of those ‘free’ things to do with no strings attached, so it seemed at first glance and instead, turned out being quite the opposite.

The severe penalty for quitting was making the student that dropped out the responsible party for the entire program failing and it was a heavy burden to carry five days a week for two months. And this warped mental conditioning was just the start of it. The berating I had to take everyday in this pilot program made this all expense paid trip to the hair academy seem like a joke.

I didn’t say much to the young hair dresser who thought Lynyrd Skynyrd was heavy metal music. And I won’t verbally cut loose on anybody for not knowing any different. The right categories do get confusing nowadays because there’s classic rock, classical music, funk, disco, rap, techo, nu-metal, heavy metal, etc. So me and this young hair dresser really didn’t converse much. The music was cranked up so loud in this building that she couldn’t hear a word of my soft-spoken conversation and I couldn’t make sense of what she was most certain was ‘heavy metal’ without a doubt. I don’t want to break your heart, but Lynyrd Skynyrd is a Southern hard rock band, not heavy metal. When I think of heavy metal, Judas Priest pops into my head. I so love this band as far back as 1986 although they’ve been around a lot longer than that going far back as the 1970s. And if you must listen to Judas Priest get one of their early Lp’s or ‘vinyl’ for the young crowds. Don’t buy it on cd. CD’s just compress the true sound and make music sound flat and lifeless in my opinion. On this day in particular perhaps a part of me just wasn’t ready for a change. I’m extremely possessive of my hair and only let a select few in my family trim the split ends when needed. And it had been years since I last let a hair stylist touch my hair.

I decided to go for a spiral perm like I once had when younger. And the end result? Well, it didn’t make me feel glamorous or pampered. I was riveted to the edge of that barbershop chair, fingers clawed the armrests for dear life. I couldn’t even allow myself to relax for one minute I was so nervous. I looked at myself in the large mirror before they gave me a makeover and faked like I was happy with the perm but it looked nothing like what I once had years before, not even close. Since I wasn’t paying for this (the pilot program was), I was really at the mercy of just keeping my mouth shut. The program’s budget only allowed one hair style and a makeover, that was it. There was no room to make it right for the customer.

A part of me wanted to die on this particular day at the hair academy. I didn’t feel beautiful. I didn’t see myself as pretty or jaw-dropping gorgeous, either. I felt like an old hag. Then came off my makeup that took me two hours to apply that very same morning. It’s very outdated, but I really don’t want to be shoved into this newer makeup trend that just made me appear much older than I am and it was, like, totally disgusting. There’s a part of me that will never let go of my youthful days gone by. And there will always be that part of me that will stay young inside. And I always heard many times over, “Don’t lose sight of your youth!” I haven’t and certainly appear younger than my age.I’m very thankful for that, too.

More and more my fragile feelings, combined with the stress of this pilot program that left me gone from 7 am until shortly after 6pm every day for the last two months, was beginning to erode my self-confidence. And you weren’t getting paid for your time either. You could receive 9 credit hours that transferred over to your college education, but the sponsors strongly discouraged opting for this route rather than accepting one of their chosen careers that not everybody was physically or mentally cut out for.

I was also faced with two choices: steel toe boots and/ or scrubs. I don’t have the patients to work in a healthcare related field nor the emotional stamina, either. Factory work, been there and done that. It is extremely difficult work, trust me on this. It is not as easy as the sponsors make it sound with their come on lines;

Can you read a tape measure?

Are you good with basic math?

Can you lift more than fifty pounds?

Can you understand blueprints?

If you say yes to all the above, then you’re the person we’ve been looking for… blah, blah, blah. But it won’t get you ‘hired’ and you find this out with two weeks left to complete the rigorous and tedious program.

I was desperate to get back into the workforce but really distanced myself from the others who had checkered pasts, criminal backgrounds, and were unable to keep and/ or apply for certain other jobs due to the wrong choices they made in their lives.

And here’s what made me so very grateful about my life choices: I didn’t break the law. I never went to jail or been arrested. And I stayed out of trouble.

So why’d they select me?

I was still racking my brain over this for quite some time. I’m so very blessed to have parents that kept me on the straight and narrow path. I’m also grateful for the diverse religions I had over the years growing up which helped to structure my family life as well.

And there I was ready to be bombarded with expensive cosmetics at the hair academy. Before I know it I hear from my hair stylist, “I’ll get you signed up for this shampoo and conditioner, those will be forty-four dollars, and two eye shadow pods (colors), and powder will bring your total to $180. Oh, and when you stop in just ask for (____), and you can pay with your debt card anytime.”

Money doesn’t grow on trees in my neck of the woods and am sure it doesn’t sprout leaves of fifties, one-hundred, or even a thousand dollar bills in third world countries, either. If it did, I wouldn’t trust my hair or skin to some random student that needed not only a passing grade, but also a *guinea pig*… err, I mean, client.

At the makeup table I see these astronomical high dollar cosmetics, some primer setting spray and was told by my stylist that my shimmer eye shadow was too juvenile for a lady of my age to be wearing. Well, slap me on the back and call me stupid. Is this set in stone somewhere?

I have never had anybody tell me to my face my makeup was too young for me to be wearing. It didn’t help matters much that I was seeing everything through hormone-colored glasses on this day, either. You know ladies, it’s that time of the month were everybody wants to run, hide and duck for cover because you could weep at the drop of a hat. And that’s what I felt like doing, crying a river.

Sure, I internalized what that hair stylist told me and took it the wrong way, but never the less…

Apparently there isn’t a ‘matte’ eye shadow for sale anywhere in my city. I ended up wasting my time going to many discount and retail stores in search of finding some eye shadow that was

a.) affordable and b.) was something I liked and was happy with.

I had no idea the shimmer, glitter, and shiny colors were for teens and Twenty-year-olds. I believe anybody at any age should be able to wear whatever makes them happy. My new makeover was slapped on half-assed. I really don’t like it when somebody is breathing into my face, but we all have to put up with irritations just so we can be on our way.

I reviewed the stunning new– oh, crap!

Did they really just give me the smoky cat eye treatment?! I looked like a raccoon with a perm! This was not what I wanted at all! It was horrible—just— oh, the humanity of it all!

I bit my lower lip and faked a pleased expression. I was awed by the fact of how terrible and old this hair stylist made me appear before my very eyes.

Oh, yeah, baby… Mr. Right (if I had one) would be horrified! There’d be no roses or candlelit dinner waiting for me when I got home. Had I met Mr. Right with a job eons ago, I wouldn’t be getting a makeover from heck. He’d probably pamper me the whole nine yards the right way and take me to a real beauty salon, or at the very least, pamper me himself. And that’s wishful thinking.

I washed off the makeup once I got home because it made my skin break out. I then took a comb to my perm just to murder the last spiral curl that reminded me of an old hag. I was not kind on myself, verbally speaking, that is. I was upset.

And the students right down the teacher scolded me the next day for brushing out my perm. Like… hello, it’s my hair, why get your big girl panties all in a twisted bunch over something as insignificant as me brushing out a hair style because I hated it. It’s my life, my hair– so there.

I was always cranky, hungry, and tired on any given week day and that’s never good. Feed me some fruit or raw veggies and I’m happy as a clam. But the vending machines where the program was being taught contained only junk food and soda, yuck! The typical feelings you will experience when you’re dead on your feet all day from working.

I don’t get to broaden my college education like the sponsors promised and damned myself for not entering college sooner (like straight out of high school sooner) and planned my life better. Then again, I didn’t plan that the economy and the workforce take a nose dive. I didn’t foresee there would come a day when the unemployment rate would outweigh available jobs in my lifetime.

I quit the pilot program with two weeks left to go until graduation and made sure to have all my things at home. If there was one thing I did plan right that was my resignation.

I turned in my letter of resignation over the weekend via email and received a reply, “Thank you, we’ll pass it along.” I never heard back after and was glad.

I found out much later that I’m quite capable of finding a job on my own terms without somebody else finding one for me from the bottom of the barrel and then the sponsors took their cut of a commission out of all the students paychecks on top of that for helping them get hired. Oh, and lets not forget taxes, social security, and other cuts that take flea bites out of a paycheck.

What do you have by the end of the pay day? Maybe just enough to pay the rent and little else.

I think the smartest decision I ever made was giving up during this pilot program. It not only brought me down emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and physically, but I hated the mean person it made me be those months I stuck with it. And I really felt bad for jumping on those around me after it was all said and done.

The sponsors would tell you up front if you have a support system in case this doesn’t work out for you. They don’t go into specifics and you soon figure out why they remain vague. The requirements and demands are ridiculous! As the program neared completion, the student was required to submit nine job applications per day and submit different cover letters and resumes on top of that. Talk about confusing as hell! Most of the companies I applied at I was denied by one due to lack of managerial experience. The other fast food places never replied to my online applications and one store in the mall that wasn’t hiring ended up phoning me months after I quit the program.

I, of course, was dealing with my grandma’s death and politely turned down the phone interview. I know they’ll tell you that using a death in the family is a very poor excuse that new employers DON’T like hearing, but it wasn’t. My grandma’s death was legitimate. My grief was through the roof and I didn’t feel ready to collect myself and move on.

I do pray Mr. Right will sweep me off my feet somewhere, somehow, someday, treat me with kindness, shower me with love and thoughtfulness, have a big heart and treat me far better than some poorly implemented pilot program ever did.

Thanks for reading, commenting, and liking. 🙂

Modern Makeup part 3:

In my first two blogs I discussed the trends between Victorian and Edwardian era makeup and fashions. In this blog I’m going to focus on modern makeup and give some helpful hints that I used in the past in a pinch when money was extremely tight. This consisted of my [then] makeup:

1. Wet n’ Wild black eyeliner pencil. This was not only inexpensive back in the 80s/ early 90s, it was also standard for any girl to have. Unlike nowadays, Wet n’ Wild used to be made here in the US. Oh, and there was no black lipstick back then either. Wet n’ Wild did make black nail polish back in the day and to achieve that ‘black lipstick’ look melt down an eye liner pencil and apply it then use a little bit of dark colored eye shadow to set it. This won’t help the black eye liner last very long, but it did help with smudging. I wouldn’t recommend using this outdated method at all since burns on the lips could result and pose a problem.

2. Covergirl eye shadow (light/ medium blue). I still held onto my last eye shadow compact which was produced sometime in the early 90s. There wasn’t much selection for a fair-skinned gal such as myself and blue was the only color I’d buy/ use.

3. Avon lipstick samples. My mom at one time had an entire makeup bag full of these little freebie lipsticks. My favorites were “bandana red”, “salmon pink” (more of a pale pink) and peach colored. The lipsticks were itty bitty about the size of a nickel.

4. Covergirl powder compact. I didn’t know exactly what shade matched me best in these days, so I went with two options: a.) the least expensive powder compact and b.) the lightest shade which was ivory.

5. Mascara – whatever was cheap. There wasn’t a whole lot to chose from back then. Certainly there wasn’t any volumizing, thickening, or long lash formulas that I was aware of.

I used to buy my makeup at Osco Drug store (now defunct). It was kind of like a K-Mart store back in the 80s/90s. Nowadays, I shop at Dollar General for makeup or if there’s a dollar store, I would highly recommend going there where everything’s a dollar. Not to sound like a cheap skate, but when getting started, these stores can do in a pinch.

Why I never spend a boat load of money on the more expensive brands like MUD, Kat von D, Sephora, Urban Decay, etc.:

Why spend $65 for a single makeup brush from Sephora? Why spend $57 on one eye shadow pallet by Kat von D? Not trying to down these makeup manufacturers and I’m sure their products are far superior to the common drug store makeup, but to me its all about price. I may sound very cheap when opting for the less glamorous makeup (and likely doing myself more harm than good) since the less expensive products are *cheaply mass produced*, but Anywho, I believe you get more for your money.

I doubt there’s much difference when it comes to heavy metals, minerals, shimmers, glitters, mattes, colors, etc. A company might pledge not to use any harmful chemicals in the making of their cosmetics, but there are repeat offenders none the less. Just as if they go on to claim they don’t do any animal testing, but seeing that we (the consumer) aren’t there in person to see this, who’s to say. I’m sure I have a TON of makeup that was tested on animals, but I’d never know since I’m just a consumer. A package might state in teeny letters “not tested on animals” and “cruelty free makeup”, but its just a statement that might not hold any merit.

Then there’s the liquid foundations, and from what I’ve seen in the last year or so, a lot of them contain Titanium Dioxide which has been classified in Canada to be a possible carcinogen to humans. See here:

http://www.organicmakeup.ca/ca/titaniumdioxide.asp

I suspected that Titanium Dioxide was a certain heavy metal, likely that came from the ground and its very difficult to evade. It’s in everything from food, plastics, toothpaste, paint and so on and it’s a first that I’ve seen it turn up in liquid foundation. It’s also in a lot of sunscreens as well. It was nearly impossible for me to find a liquid foundation without Titanium Dioxide in it. But I had no choice. My selection was spf this and Titanium Dioxide that. Well, I don’t plan to turn into a sun-loving, beach-lounging, tanning type of woman anytime soon. In fact, when I can do so, I prefer to be a homebody. And when I go out, I don the sun block, a hat, pants or if its hot outside, leggings, t-shirt and shoes. I’m not an open-toed sandal or flip flop gal.

And again buying cheap doesn’t leave much room, if any, for finding a good quality sun block that doesn’t have harmful chemicals. I checked with the Environmental Watch Group before going on my search for a reasonable sun block and came up empty-handed.

And speaking of sun block and SPF’s, anything higher than 50 spf will increase sun burn and skin cancer like Melanoma, for example. I only found this out by happenstance when overhearing two women conversing about it in a check out line and one was a cosmetologist.

Also, I will be blogging about natural hair washes and how to keep your hair soft. I’m making a concerted effort to live as naturally and healthy as the Lord and my budget will allow and that includes eliminating common items such as toothpastes, shampoos and conditioners, deodorants that contain aluminum which can be absorbed through your skin, perfumes, or at the very least, limiting how much is used. In the cosmetic industry if it states “fragrance” on the bottle this is a red warning flag according to the Environmental Watch Group and this sneaky vague ingredient can contain anything potentially harmful.

Thanks for reading and keep checking back.