THINGS I LOVED/HATED THIS WEEK #237

LOVE:

Boy de Chanel:

chanel-boy-de-chanel-visual

Dear and beloved readers, I don’t know if I have the strength required to tell this tale. It’s a doozy. I have a video that would do all the talking for me, but Jessica staunchly refuses to send it to me. She’s probably just worried about how iconic I was in it. Makes sense. Anyway, I have thought about absolutely nothing but Boy de Chanel, a collection of makeup products for men, for months. I’m the target market for this even though I’m fully aware that a gendered product is a pointless advertisement ploy. The makeup is literally the same stuff as regular Chanel makeup, but it’s sold in these gorgeous navy metal containers. And I’m really a sucker. So these have been on my mind since they were debuted. Iowa doesn’t have a Chanel boutique and Jessica absolutely refused to let me stop at the Chanel in Chicago when we were there last month. She had other priorities that she thought trumped mine. Rude. So the other day I finally bit the bullet, guessed my color, and clicked BUY online. A couple days later, the most gorgeous box was on my steps. Inside that box was another elegant box emblazoned with the Chanel logo. Inside this box was a wax seal, securing the insides in a cacophony of packing paper. Swaddled loving inside was my new makeup. I bought an eyebrow pencil, foundation, and what I can only assume is the world’s most expensive lip balm. I love skincare, but I don’t wear makeup. So I had no idea what to do with it, but this weekend I have been experimenting and living my Chanel illusion. I’m getting pretty good I think. I even bought a beauty blender, which honestly, is a revolutionary device. Do you all have one? Anyway, I blended every last trace of a freckle, wrinkle, rod blotch, and the bags under my eye until they were gone. I looked like a porcelain doll. I’ve since learned that less is more. Then I attacked my boring brows and filled them in. This was, to me, the MOST impressive transformation. You literally slap it on in a few places and brush it into the brow. Looks absurdly natural. And the lipbalm is revolutionary. The container alone drips of elegance. It’s soft and smooth and glides gorgeously over my lips. Stepping back from the mirror is a shocking moment. Because I look like myself…but like a better version of me. Why haven’t I been wearing makeup for years? No wonder so many people live for it. I understand them now. I just don’t know if I can keep it up. I barely wake up with enough time to get out the door let alone beat my mug for the GAWDS DARLING. Hell, this might actually motivate me out of bed once in a while. LOLZ I doubt it. 

Fat Freezer:

fatfreezerbodykit

Okay, y’all, last week I told you all about the website where I bought a DIY fat freezer. I’ve been using it for some time now, and I have some things that I need to say. First thing is…I love it with all my heart. But, I do think that I have been frostbitten by the thing and I am not entirely sure if the machine has passed any kind of FDA testing. I don’t mind using my body as a lab, though, especially if it might help me get thinner. I haven’t been keeping adequate data, but I really do believe the machine is doing the job. Every night, I apply a glycerin pad to an area of my body and then tightly strap the Fat Freezer over the pad. This took me a while to get right. If it’s too loose, the machine will slip off the pad and the cold metal will burn your skin. If it’s too tight, you’ll cut off circulation and the cold metal of the machine will — for whatever reason — completely ignore the glycerin pad and freeze your skin. I think I’ve got it just about right now. The results are not at all automatic, and the science behind the machine takes time. Allegedly, while you wear the machine for an hour, the fat cells near the surface of your epidermis freeze and die. These dead cells are removed from the body through natural processes which can take weeks and up to a month. It’s been about a month now that I’ve been doing this, and I feel like I’m seeing some real results. I definitely feel a bit thinner and I certainly haven’t been doing anything with my health and fitness to make this happen. If anything, I’ve become more sedentary the busier I get with school and work. It’s gross. Modern culture is really no good for us, we need to move and graze, but schedules don’t allow it…so we sit and freeze our fat off. I realize the absurdity. But it’s also so much fun. I do have a complaint, though. Like I said, it can really freeze your skin, and that is such an unsettling thing to witness. After the machine turns itself off, you remove the pad and massage the area. One time, my skin was like pure white and there was a circular patch that was hard as a rock. It was literally frozen skin. I was worried that it would like turn black and die or something, but that hasn’t happened. It bruised me instead and now I have a weird patch of skin that is lighter than my tan. So, I hope that goes away. But I’m vain enough to keep going. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Fix A Flat:

fix-a-flat-wheels-tires-s60420-64_1000

If I didn’t have to have a car, I would happily sell mine and take public transportation and walk and bike. But I can’t do that. I live in the countryside. I have to drive to work. I have to drive to college. I have to drive everywhere. Someday I’m going to live in a city and take the trains like I love to do. But not now. Now I have a car that constantly needs gas and oil and repairs and tires and whatnot. The freedom of a car is nice, but I don’t think the trade off is worth the expense. I’ve been annoyed by tires in particular. I have one that will not stop leaking. It’s been patched about four times. And yes, reader, I could just go get a new tire, but then I’d have to get four tires. And I don’t want to invest. So, I just keep getting it fixed and ignoring the warning light on my dashboard. The car still moves, so…whatever. Still, in the back of my mind, that goddamn light has been irritating me. But, since I don’t know the first thing about cars and I really don’t care about them except for them looking nice, I didn’t do anything. The other day, I was with my friend Jose and we were in the automotive aisle. I’d never been there before. It’s fascinating. You can buy steering wheel covers and wipes that keep your glass from fogging over and even little tubes of paint. I had an unexpectedly delightful time. I bought myself a little air pump so that I could fill the tire back up when I need to. And by me, I mean somebody else. And then I saw these aerosol cans that claimed they could fix flat tires and patch them from the inside. This seemed worth it, so I picked up a can and added it to my overflowing cart. The next day, I asked Jose to try out my new purchases and really made it sound exciting so that he would be tricked into doing it for me. My plan was a success and I watched him fix my tire while I sipped a vodka cocktail. He was so enthusiastic, too. Bless him. Well, whatever the hell was in that can was like magic. The light went off on my dashboard and it hasn’t come back. And a week later, it’s like…still not flat. That product is a miracle and I recommend you all keep it in your car if you’re unlucky enough to own one. 

HATE:

Not Having Travel Plans:

travel

I have been in the absolute worst mood lately. Everything has annoyed me. Or maybe I was depressed. Or maybe I was just angry. Or maybe I was just overwhelmed. I dunno. I just haven’t been myself. Needless to say, it’s been annoying, and it’s even starting to annoy me, so I’m doing my best to get out of my funk. Yesterday I tidied and furiously worked on my massive list of things to do, and today I feel somewhat better. But while I was driving to work today, I realized one of the major triggers of my funk. I don’t have any vacations planned. No trips. No little getaways. Nothing at all. Usually, I have some excursion to look forward to. I was deliriously happy while I was waiting for Mexico City. And I lived a dream while I was down there. But there’s nothing for me now. God, that sounds bleak. This summer, for the first time since I can remember, I have to stay home. I feel queasy at the thought. I’m wrapping up all my college work and prepping for student teaching, and all of that requires me to physically be here. I can’t do it all online like I’ve done for the past few years. And so I have nothing to dream about, nothing to countdown, nothing to plan for. It makes me uneasy and moody and I need to figure some little weekend escapes out because if I don’t, I know I’ll lose what little is left of my mind. And I’m annoying myself talking about, so I’ll stop now. I know I sound spoiled. You should spoil yourself, after all, don’t you think? [UPDATE: Thankfully Jessica and I are planning to go to a haunted hotel next month. And in June, I just discovered that Kate del Castillo is doing a one woman show in New York, so obviously I’ll be figuring out a way to get to that. I feel better already!]

Notre Dame Burning:

notre-dame-cathedral-fire-paris-april-15-2019

One of my favorite films is called Paris is Burning. It’s about the drag ball culture of New York City and it’s filled with delicious quotes. Let’s take a look.

Sadly, the title of the film has taken on new meaning that was never intended by this divine film. The other day, Paris was literally on fire. And this was intensely painful for me, and for the world, but you all know how important Paris is to me. You all know what Paris means to me. Paris is a sanctuary, Paris is my adopted hometown, and Paris is an idyll for me. Yesterday was an emotionally distributing day for me, and not only because I had to get up in the morning and go to work. Though that didn’t help much. It was actually a great day until lunch time came around. And then the news broke that the cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris was on fire. It quickly became a massive conflagration, and I felt sick to my stomach. I put the news on live and watched and watched, my gaze fixated on the screen, feeling numb. It struck me hard, and I’m still not over the shock of the sight. This disastrous fire was, of course, a loss for the whole world. Notre Dame is a major tourist location, a landmark of Paris, a triumph of gothic architecture, the site of so many remarkable moments in history, and the setting of classic literature. The towers have stood since before North America was stumbled upon by European explorers. Wars have come and gone. Revolutions waxed and waned inside. It is filled with art and statuary and architectural details that are beloved by visitors. I’ve been there more times than I can count. The reason it affected me so powerfully is because I really do feel as if Paris is my home. I have so many happy memories around the cathedral. After getting too drunk on good French wine, I twirled with delight as snow fell from the sky after an expensive dinner with my friends from Le Cordon Bleu. I gazed openmouthed with wonder at the gypsies who spun and threw fire. I watched the Eiffel Tower glimmer from the Parvis. I climbed to the top of the tower and saw the bells. I sat in the somber interior and contemplated life. I saw the relic of the crown of thorns that Jesus allegedly wore on the cross. I saw archbishops bless baguettes and bakers. I saw nuns going over their rosary. And because I had this wealth of experiences in this beautiful place, seeing it ablaze was like seeing my home on fire. I felt like I was watching the Library of Alexandria burning down. It seemed inconceivable that in the modern world, such a devastating fire could claim one of the most iconic buildings in the world. I had to pop an anxiety pill when I got home. It was just too overwhelming. I woke up a bit early so that I could browse through the news and read the updates. I was filled with an immense peace when I read that the towers remained structurally sound. Notre Dame will be rebuilt. It will take so much time and so much money, but I’m happy that this structure will remain standing long after I’m gone. I want my descendants to stroll through the gardens behind the church and feed the birds and think of me. Notre Dame will always be there, no matter how they change her. It’s the right time for this song by Eartha Kitt. It’s always the right time for it:

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