OMFG YOU GUYS:
A PINK DOLPHIN. A FREAKING PINK DOLPHIN.
I'm pretty sure that I wished this majestic creature into existence on my 6th birthday, along with a purple unicorn with a glitter horn. Only in my wildest Barbie-Hello Kitty-Princess-Lisa Frank dreams did I think it would come true! The only way this could be better is if sparkles and rainbows were expelled from its blowhole.
Now. Who wants to buy me plane tickets to Louisiana? Some lucky bastard has seen Princess Fancy Flippers "40 to 50 times in the time since the original sighting". I want to see it once. Just once! So I might die a happy, happy little girl.
--amanda
[edit:] FIXED IT!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
"It needs more air than I am willing to admit."
Dear No One in Particular,
I identify overmuch with J.D. Salinger's characters. This probably says something significant about me; something tragic and obnoxious, no doubt. I'm sure there are better fictional characters to identify with, but I know for certain there are much worse.
Like most young people, I was first introduced to Salinger by way of Catcher in the Rye. I know there's quite a bit of contention over the book, and I'm not referring to the censorship controversy. Most people I know either loveloveLOVE the book or hate it with the fire of a thousand suns. Obviously, I fall into the former category, but I can kind of understand why there are so many firmly planted in the hater camp. Being forced to read and dissect books in school tends to have that effect on many great pieces of literature, and, let's face it, Holden is kind of a dickhead.
Yet what draws me to Salinger is his incredible ability to convey heartsickness in the written word -- more than depression, more than an aching loneliness, Salinger creates characters so complex and so beautiful in their flaws that their deep, deep hurt and crippling fears wind their way off the page and strike right into the heart of the reader.
More than anything, Salinger knows what it's like to feel alienated, confused, and deeply sad; moreover, he knows how that deadly combination can cause one to lash out, seemingly disaffected with the world.
Honestly, while I love Catcher, my absolute favourite Salinger tome is Nine Stories. A collection of -- surprise! -- nine short stories, I've always felt that this is Salinger at his best. (A very close second would be Franny and Zooey.) This is the book that should be taught to students; I've always insisted that should I lose my damn mind and become an English teacher, I would teach "Nine Stories". Just about every story breaks my heart in the best way possible.
My favourite story (possibly of all time) is "A Perfect Day for Bananafish". Bewilderingly, I've found it's easily the most misinterpreted.
My A.P. English teacher assigned us "A Perfect Day" as a reading assignment, and split the class into groups to discuss the story. To my shock and disgust, the most popular comment about the story was "God, he was so creepy!" I have a permanent dent in my forehead from headdesk-ing throughout the entire period. My classmates were in Berkeley, and the point flew so far over their heads, it was halfway to Jupiter.
Perhaps the reason I feel so strongly about "A Perfect Day" is because of my own struggles with mental illness, particularly with depression. I've since sought some help with my disorders, but reading "A Perfect Day" never ceases to remind me of how dark, how deep, and how torturous the pits of depression can be -- especially if you can play "normal". Seymour's relationship with Sybil, contrasted with the abrupt and painful ending, is a perfect "in" to a discussion about the complexities of mental illness. Seymour's mood swings, his obvious alienation from his wife -- all are hallmarks of a man wrestling to keep the demons at bay, if only for an afternoon so that he might hunt for the gluttinous bananafish.
Over the years, I've found myself engaging with the other eight stories in a way that I hadn't been able to upon first perusal. I'm currently re-reading "Nine Stories" and I was somewhat surprised by my reaction to the story "Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut". A somewhat satirical story, "Uncle Wiggily" struck home in a way I'd never thought it would. While Salinger paints a sardonic picture of life in the suburbs, his popular theme of heartache and alienation runs just below the surface. There's not much action in the story, forcing the audience to read between the lines, digging deep into the characters to see what makes them tick -- and subsequently, what holds the story together. I found the story to be typical Salinger in that it sought to tackle the problems of diving into perils of capital-A Adulthood, leaving the romance of childhood behind. Main character Eloise's actions were largely motivated by her unresolved grief over the death of her young love, Walt Glass, and the ways that it shaped her as an adult woman. Her issues with her husband ("If you ever get married again, don't tell your husband anything. ... Oh, you can tell them stuff. But never honestly") and her violent outburst at her daughter stem from her heartache over Walt.
I was most moved by the ending, with Eloise imploring her friend to reassure her that she was "a nice girl". I saw this as Eloise's moment of self-realisation; she is able to see how deeply she was affected by Walt's death, and how it further affected her relationships with her daughter and her husband. Walt was ripped from Eloise's life, thus preventing her from connecting fully with those she should have unconditional love for.
I bring this up because I recently checked out "Nine Stories" from my school library and the margins are lousy with notes.* Someone must have done an analytical paper on Salinger and left their thoughts and analyses in the book.
Such notes remind me of how wildly two readers' impressions of a text can differ. The person who scribbled their thoughts in the margins apparently focused on different aspects of the stories than I would have. It's interesting, reading the notes along with the original text; it provides another layer, presents another interpretation I would not have considered otherwise.
I wish I could read the paper that the came from these notes. It would be an interesting read.
So: anyone else a rabid Salinger fan, like I am? Or rabidly anti-Salinger? Comment, please! If you'd like to just talk about the books that you hold near and dear, that'd be wonderful too. I love talking books with people.
--amanda
________________________
*I'm totally guilty of doing this, too. Apparently, I'm not the only one!
I identify overmuch with J.D. Salinger's characters. This probably says something significant about me; something tragic and obnoxious, no doubt. I'm sure there are better fictional characters to identify with, but I know for certain there are much worse.
Like most young people, I was first introduced to Salinger by way of Catcher in the Rye. I know there's quite a bit of contention over the book, and I'm not referring to the censorship controversy. Most people I know either loveloveLOVE the book or hate it with the fire of a thousand suns. Obviously, I fall into the former category, but I can kind of understand why there are so many firmly planted in the hater camp. Being forced to read and dissect books in school tends to have that effect on many great pieces of literature, and, let's face it, Holden is kind of a dickhead.
Yet what draws me to Salinger is his incredible ability to convey heartsickness in the written word -- more than depression, more than an aching loneliness, Salinger creates characters so complex and so beautiful in their flaws that their deep, deep hurt and crippling fears wind their way off the page and strike right into the heart of the reader.
More than anything, Salinger knows what it's like to feel alienated, confused, and deeply sad; moreover, he knows how that deadly combination can cause one to lash out, seemingly disaffected with the world.
Honestly, while I love Catcher, my absolute favourite Salinger tome is Nine Stories. A collection of -- surprise! -- nine short stories, I've always felt that this is Salinger at his best. (A very close second would be Franny and Zooey.) This is the book that should be taught to students; I've always insisted that should I lose my damn mind and become an English teacher, I would teach "Nine Stories". Just about every story breaks my heart in the best way possible.
My favourite story (possibly of all time) is "A Perfect Day for Bananafish". Bewilderingly, I've found it's easily the most misinterpreted.
My A.P. English teacher assigned us "A Perfect Day" as a reading assignment, and split the class into groups to discuss the story. To my shock and disgust, the most popular comment about the story was "God, he was so creepy!" I have a permanent dent in my forehead from headdesk-ing throughout the entire period. My classmates were in Berkeley, and the point flew so far over their heads, it was halfway to Jupiter.
Perhaps the reason I feel so strongly about "A Perfect Day" is because of my own struggles with mental illness, particularly with depression. I've since sought some help with my disorders, but reading "A Perfect Day" never ceases to remind me of how dark, how deep, and how torturous the pits of depression can be -- especially if you can play "normal". Seymour's relationship with Sybil, contrasted with the abrupt and painful ending, is a perfect "in" to a discussion about the complexities of mental illness. Seymour's mood swings, his obvious alienation from his wife -- all are hallmarks of a man wrestling to keep the demons at bay, if only for an afternoon so that he might hunt for the gluttinous bananafish.
Over the years, I've found myself engaging with the other eight stories in a way that I hadn't been able to upon first perusal. I'm currently re-reading "Nine Stories" and I was somewhat surprised by my reaction to the story "Uncle Wiggily in Connecticut". A somewhat satirical story, "Uncle Wiggily" struck home in a way I'd never thought it would. While Salinger paints a sardonic picture of life in the suburbs, his popular theme of heartache and alienation runs just below the surface. There's not much action in the story, forcing the audience to read between the lines, digging deep into the characters to see what makes them tick -- and subsequently, what holds the story together. I found the story to be typical Salinger in that it sought to tackle the problems of diving into perils of capital-A Adulthood, leaving the romance of childhood behind. Main character Eloise's actions were largely motivated by her unresolved grief over the death of her young love, Walt Glass, and the ways that it shaped her as an adult woman. Her issues with her husband ("If you ever get married again, don't tell your husband anything. ... Oh, you can tell them stuff. But never honestly") and her violent outburst at her daughter stem from her heartache over Walt.
I was most moved by the ending, with Eloise imploring her friend to reassure her that she was "a nice girl". I saw this as Eloise's moment of self-realisation; she is able to see how deeply she was affected by Walt's death, and how it further affected her relationships with her daughter and her husband. Walt was ripped from Eloise's life, thus preventing her from connecting fully with those she should have unconditional love for.
I bring this up because I recently checked out "Nine Stories" from my school library and the margins are lousy with notes.* Someone must have done an analytical paper on Salinger and left their thoughts and analyses in the book.
Such notes remind me of how wildly two readers' impressions of a text can differ. The person who scribbled their thoughts in the margins apparently focused on different aspects of the stories than I would have. It's interesting, reading the notes along with the original text; it provides another layer, presents another interpretation I would not have considered otherwise.
I wish I could read the paper that the came from these notes. It would be an interesting read.
So: anyone else a rabid Salinger fan, like I am? Or rabidly anti-Salinger? Comment, please! If you'd like to just talk about the books that you hold near and dear, that'd be wonderful too. I love talking books with people.
--amanda
________________________
*I'm totally guilty of doing this, too. Apparently, I'm not the only one!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Kindling
Dear No One in Particular,
I was not an early fan of the Amazon Kindle. Honestly, I was pretty darn anti-Kindle up until Christmas Day, when I was lucky enough to receive one from my long-suffering mother.
You see, I live in constant fear that I will be killed by my personal library. I have hundreds of books in dozens of places; I've moved a lot recently, so I not only have over-stuffed bookshelves at my parents' home, groaning and threatening to buckle under the weight, I have bookshelves at my apartment doing the same. Plus, I have boxes of books scattered throughout both locations, the majority of which I can not lift because books are freaking heavy.
Naturally, these books do not just accumulate on shelves. I am rarely without a personal reading book (as opposed to the ones I'm forced to read for school, which I carry around on the regular as well). Like I said, books are heavy, so my left shoulder is permanently higher than the right. No really. It is. Hairdressers and doctors comment on it all the time. I blame carrying around giant, overstuffed purses loaded with books.
So you can see why the Kindle was such a great gift choice for me: it can hold hundreds, thousands of books in a single device. No more bookshelves spewing trade paperbacks! No more hunchbacked daughter whining that her neck hurts!
But I was firmly against the Kindle and its e-book reader brethren.
Books are so much more than a simple vehicle for the written word, as any true bibliophile knows. I love books, I really do. The heft of a well-made hardback sagging in the palm of my hand; the flexibility of a trade paperback, the thin pages bouncing and flapping in the breeze; the smell of paper, glue and imagination -- these are what make a book so wonderful. I love the feel of a page slipping through my fingers as I turn ahead. The deep black ink's stark contrast to the crisp white page. The Kindle can't begin to hope to replicate small moments like these.
And I don't think it means to. In a world that has become increasingly dependent on electronics, the Kindle seeks to do what all extraneous gadgets do: simplify and accelerate.
I keep mentioning that I was not a fan of the Kindle and had no interest in purchasing one. My feet were firmly planted on the side of Team Book. Now ... ? Now, I'm a little bit in love with my Kindle. What changed? I held a Kindle in my hands, downloaded a couple of books, fidgeted with the features, and had my world rocked.
This is not to say that the Kindle is perfect. Far from it, really, and I don't think that it's newest incarnation, Kindle 2, is going to be the e-book reader to convert all of Team Book. But I can not deny its charms.
First of all, it's thin, thinner than most paperbacks, and it's really lightweight. This frees up a ton of space in my bag, which makes my doctors (and mother) rejoice. I'm one of those people who, if I'm nearing the end of a book, will carry an extra so I'm never without reading material. The Kindle simplifies my life by putting both books in a single device.
This is another huge selling point: the capacity, which is easily increased with a memory card. I could hold thousands of books in my little Kindle, something I would never be able to do with real books.
Another feature that's especially appealing for me is the annotations feature. I know some think it's absolutely blasphemous to write in books (my father is one), but I like putting little notes or highlights in the margins. It's something I started with school books and have transferred over to pleasure reading. The Kindle allows you to electronically highlight, bookmark, and annotate your reading; it stores the notes in a separate file, so they're easily accessible -- no flipping through pages in search of that one really awesome quote.
This, with the capacity, could change college textbooks forever. Seriously, publishers: Kindles for university students. It's the wave of the future.
Like I said, the Kindle isn't perfect. It's flaws are many. It can be downright irritating at times.
The button layout on the Kindle 1.0 is maddening. There are very few places one can hold the bare Kindle (sans some sort of hard cover) without pressing some button and thus directing you away from the current screen. 2/3 of the right side is comprised of the "next page" button, while the left side is split between the "next page" and "previous page" buttons. Ok, it's really nice to be able to move forward or back with either hand, but the immense buttons make it difficult to hold the Kindle.
This has been rectified with the Kindle 2.0, which has smaller buttons that are angled inward, supposedly making it harder to accidentally navigate away from the current screen (so says Amazon).
Oh, and before you ask: no, I'm not going to trade up. I have a Kindle and I'm kind of in love with it, remember? We're totally going steady -- why would I cheat on it? But more on that later.
Another feature that the new Kindle supposedly improved upon is the sharper display. This is one of my big beefs with the Kindle: pictures suck on its screen. Covers look really funky, all washed out and blurry; I wanted to read Carrie Fisher's "Wishful Drinking", but after skimming the sample and realising that the book was photo-heavy, and that the Kindle couldn't hack it, I ended up buying the real book. Seriously, the Kindle was like Tom Hanks's character in The Terminal, all awkward and pathetic.
And that right there folks, is the crux of my love affair with the Kindle: it can do some really snazzy things that I simply can't do with regular books (instantly look up words in a dictionary or Wikipedia, for example), but it pales in comparison with good old-fashioned books. I have to admit that being able to carry a 400+ page tome in a skinny handheld device is pretty nifty though, and I do read faster on a Kindle than a traditional book.
Yet the truth remains: I'm not going to stop buying real books, and I'm definitely not going to stop frequenting libraries, or as I call them "magical oases of love and awesome". Sure, e-books, on the whole, are cheaper than regular books (some are free! But then, some are just as pricey), but I can't hand my Kindle to someone and say "here, you HAVE to read this book!" There's no sharing with the Kindle.
They simply lack the tactile greatness of traditional books, and that is something they will never ever be able to replicate.
What I would like to see from future Kindles: back-lit screens, like a computer or cell phone. Those idiotic flashlight-lamp hybrids are ridiculous on books, they're equally (if not more so) as ridiculous for Kindles. I would also love to see a Kindle library. Sure, you can download samples (which are often useless, since publishing info and table of contents tend to take up the majority of a sample), but what I'm talking about is a buy-in service, kind of like a Netflix for e-books. For a set price per month, you can download as many books as you like. At the end of the month, you have the option of either paying for them, or just letting them be deleted from the Kindle memory, easy as pie.
And as for the uproar over the new and improved Kindle 2.0? As a Kindle 1.0 owner, I'm not bothered. Sure, I received mine a mere 2 months before the updated version came out, but I'm not about to write angry letters to Bezos demanding a discount on a Kindle 2 so I can trade in my Kindle 1.0. Technology moves forward, and in doing so, older products become obsolete. If Bezos does Kindle early-adopters a solid a la Apple and the iPhone, that'd be great! I'd love a credit to the Kindle Store as a thank you for drumming up the support necessary for the creation of Kindle 2.0*. If not, oh well. Anything else is just sour grapes.
So do I recommend the Kindle? Yes and no. The Kindle 1.0 has some real flaws and while the Kindle 2.0 seems to have improved on them, the fact remains that the Kindle is no replacement for traditional books. So long as you're cool with that, and you're looking to streamline your life, and you have the cash? Go for it. It's a nifty piece of technology with more pros than cons in my book.**
--amanda
--------------------------------------
*Not that I'm actually in that camp, as this post obviously points out. But it is something that's been kicked around on Amazon forums, and I think it would be a great idea, and not just because I want a credit. Take care of your customers, people!
**Pun absolutely intended.
I was not an early fan of the Amazon Kindle. Honestly, I was pretty darn anti-Kindle up until Christmas Day, when I was lucky enough to receive one from my long-suffering mother.
You see, I live in constant fear that I will be killed by my personal library. I have hundreds of books in dozens of places; I've moved a lot recently, so I not only have over-stuffed bookshelves at my parents' home, groaning and threatening to buckle under the weight, I have bookshelves at my apartment doing the same. Plus, I have boxes of books scattered throughout both locations, the majority of which I can not lift because books are freaking heavy.
Naturally, these books do not just accumulate on shelves. I am rarely without a personal reading book (as opposed to the ones I'm forced to read for school, which I carry around on the regular as well). Like I said, books are heavy, so my left shoulder is permanently higher than the right. No really. It is. Hairdressers and doctors comment on it all the time. I blame carrying around giant, overstuffed purses loaded with books.
So you can see why the Kindle was such a great gift choice for me: it can hold hundreds, thousands of books in a single device. No more bookshelves spewing trade paperbacks! No more hunchbacked daughter whining that her neck hurts!
But I was firmly against the Kindle and its e-book reader brethren.
Books are so much more than a simple vehicle for the written word, as any true bibliophile knows. I love books, I really do. The heft of a well-made hardback sagging in the palm of my hand; the flexibility of a trade paperback, the thin pages bouncing and flapping in the breeze; the smell of paper, glue and imagination -- these are what make a book so wonderful. I love the feel of a page slipping through my fingers as I turn ahead. The deep black ink's stark contrast to the crisp white page. The Kindle can't begin to hope to replicate small moments like these.
And I don't think it means to. In a world that has become increasingly dependent on electronics, the Kindle seeks to do what all extraneous gadgets do: simplify and accelerate.
I keep mentioning that I was not a fan of the Kindle and had no interest in purchasing one. My feet were firmly planted on the side of Team Book. Now ... ? Now, I'm a little bit in love with my Kindle. What changed? I held a Kindle in my hands, downloaded a couple of books, fidgeted with the features, and had my world rocked.
This is not to say that the Kindle is perfect. Far from it, really, and I don't think that it's newest incarnation, Kindle 2, is going to be the e-book reader to convert all of Team Book. But I can not deny its charms.
First of all, it's thin, thinner than most paperbacks, and it's really lightweight. This frees up a ton of space in my bag, which makes my doctors (and mother) rejoice. I'm one of those people who, if I'm nearing the end of a book, will carry an extra so I'm never without reading material. The Kindle simplifies my life by putting both books in a single device.
This is another huge selling point: the capacity, which is easily increased with a memory card. I could hold thousands of books in my little Kindle, something I would never be able to do with real books.
Another feature that's especially appealing for me is the annotations feature. I know some think it's absolutely blasphemous to write in books (my father is one), but I like putting little notes or highlights in the margins. It's something I started with school books and have transferred over to pleasure reading. The Kindle allows you to electronically highlight, bookmark, and annotate your reading; it stores the notes in a separate file, so they're easily accessible -- no flipping through pages in search of that one really awesome quote.
This, with the capacity, could change college textbooks forever. Seriously, publishers: Kindles for university students. It's the wave of the future.
Like I said, the Kindle isn't perfect. It's flaws are many. It can be downright irritating at times.
The button layout on the Kindle 1.0 is maddening. There are very few places one can hold the bare Kindle (sans some sort of hard cover) without pressing some button and thus directing you away from the current screen. 2/3 of the right side is comprised of the "next page" button, while the left side is split between the "next page" and "previous page" buttons. Ok, it's really nice to be able to move forward or back with either hand, but the immense buttons make it difficult to hold the Kindle.
This has been rectified with the Kindle 2.0, which has smaller buttons that are angled inward, supposedly making it harder to accidentally navigate away from the current screen (so says Amazon).
Oh, and before you ask: no, I'm not going to trade up. I have a Kindle and I'm kind of in love with it, remember? We're totally going steady -- why would I cheat on it? But more on that later.
Another feature that the new Kindle supposedly improved upon is the sharper display. This is one of my big beefs with the Kindle: pictures suck on its screen. Covers look really funky, all washed out and blurry; I wanted to read Carrie Fisher's "Wishful Drinking", but after skimming the sample and realising that the book was photo-heavy, and that the Kindle couldn't hack it, I ended up buying the real book. Seriously, the Kindle was like Tom Hanks's character in The Terminal, all awkward and pathetic.
And that right there folks, is the crux of my love affair with the Kindle: it can do some really snazzy things that I simply can't do with regular books (instantly look up words in a dictionary or Wikipedia, for example), but it pales in comparison with good old-fashioned books. I have to admit that being able to carry a 400+ page tome in a skinny handheld device is pretty nifty though, and I do read faster on a Kindle than a traditional book.
Yet the truth remains: I'm not going to stop buying real books, and I'm definitely not going to stop frequenting libraries, or as I call them "magical oases of love and awesome". Sure, e-books, on the whole, are cheaper than regular books (some are free! But then, some are just as pricey), but I can't hand my Kindle to someone and say "here, you HAVE to read this book!" There's no sharing with the Kindle.
They simply lack the tactile greatness of traditional books, and that is something they will never ever be able to replicate.
What I would like to see from future Kindles: back-lit screens, like a computer or cell phone. Those idiotic flashlight-lamp hybrids are ridiculous on books, they're equally (if not more so) as ridiculous for Kindles. I would also love to see a Kindle library. Sure, you can download samples (which are often useless, since publishing info and table of contents tend to take up the majority of a sample), but what I'm talking about is a buy-in service, kind of like a Netflix for e-books. For a set price per month, you can download as many books as you like. At the end of the month, you have the option of either paying for them, or just letting them be deleted from the Kindle memory, easy as pie.
And as for the uproar over the new and improved Kindle 2.0? As a Kindle 1.0 owner, I'm not bothered. Sure, I received mine a mere 2 months before the updated version came out, but I'm not about to write angry letters to Bezos demanding a discount on a Kindle 2 so I can trade in my Kindle 1.0. Technology moves forward, and in doing so, older products become obsolete. If Bezos does Kindle early-adopters a solid a la Apple and the iPhone, that'd be great! I'd love a credit to the Kindle Store as a thank you for drumming up the support necessary for the creation of Kindle 2.0*. If not, oh well. Anything else is just sour grapes.
So do I recommend the Kindle? Yes and no. The Kindle 1.0 has some real flaws and while the Kindle 2.0 seems to have improved on them, the fact remains that the Kindle is no replacement for traditional books. So long as you're cool with that, and you're looking to streamline your life, and you have the cash? Go for it. It's a nifty piece of technology with more pros than cons in my book.**
--amanda
--------------------------------------
*Not that I'm actually in that camp, as this post obviously points out. But it is something that's been kicked around on Amazon forums, and I think it would be a great idea, and not just because I want a credit. Take care of your customers, people!
**Pun absolutely intended.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Beauty Misadventures: MyChelle, MyBelle
Dear No One in Particular,
I have seriously troubled skin. You know those ProActive commercials that feature teenage boys* who traded in their dignity for some cash? The ones who are all pits, and whiteheads, and scary cystic acne that makes you cringe just to look at them? Yeah, I have skin like them. And I've had bad skin for a long, long time.
I've tried just about every thing to help calm my acne-ridden, greasy skin: ProActive, which served the same purpose as poking a sleeping dragon with a very sharp stick -- it just made it angrier; Retin-A, which helped for a while, but did little-to-nothing for my scars and giant pores; Neutrogena products, which may as well have been pure water for all the results they provided.
I recently stopped using Retin-A for various reasons and my skin has staged a rebellion of epic standards. So I decided to return to a line skin care products that has worked wonders for me in the past: MyChelle Dermaceuticals.
I found them a couple of years ago, while trolling the aisles of a local Elephant Pharmacy. I figured, I'd gone the intensive chemical route to no avail, so why not try a kinder, gentler, more natural route? I've since discovered that the less I try to beat my skin into submission, the more likely it is to calm down on its own. Enter MyChelle.
MyChelle is an all-natural, paraben and pthalate free, vegetarian friendly, cruelty-free, all-around good for you line of "dermaceuticals". Essentially, they take a "non-toxic" approach to skin care, opting for plant-based ingredients to better revitalise and heal skin. It's a feel-good, good-for-you, crunchy-happy-people attitude that's easy to get behind, especially since their products work.
As I previously mentioned, I have terrible acne and extreme combination skin -- the T-Zone looks like the Exxon-Valdez wrecked all over my face, while my cheeks are flaky and desert-dry. I opted to control my biggest problems (acne and oil), following MyChelle's suggested skin care routine**. Here are my findings:
But.
My skin never looked better.
Clear skin overnight. Like my face had miraculously been transplanted with Freida Pinto's, it was so good.
Naturally, I've done this many times and every time I found myself doing the same thing: fanning my firey face praying to be lifted up. And every morning, my skin looked amazing. Totally worth it, in my sick mind.
The big, big downfall to MyChelle? You have to be Warren Buffet to afford it.
I am not, but I am willing to use whatever money I have to maintain/continue my quest for good skin. There is a tiny consolation, however: their products will last you for.ev.er. It took me about 5 months of twice-daily use to use up a tiny bottle of cleanser, and, 1 year later, I'm still eeking out my grapefruit cream.
Despite the exorbitant prices, MyChelle Dermaceutical products are worth it. They work fast, they work hard, and they're good for you.
Totally worth it, in my (sick) mind.
--amanda
-------------------------------
*Speaking from personal observation, teenage boys tend to have worse skin than girls. Probably because grimy bastards don't invest in decent skincare.
**Yes, I used all of these products every week. The majority were used both AM and PM. I should have stock in the company.
I have seriously troubled skin. You know those ProActive commercials that feature teenage boys* who traded in their dignity for some cash? The ones who are all pits, and whiteheads, and scary cystic acne that makes you cringe just to look at them? Yeah, I have skin like them. And I've had bad skin for a long, long time.
I've tried just about every thing to help calm my acne-ridden, greasy skin: ProActive, which served the same purpose as poking a sleeping dragon with a very sharp stick -- it just made it angrier; Retin-A, which helped for a while, but did little-to-nothing for my scars and giant pores; Neutrogena products, which may as well have been pure water for all the results they provided.
I recently stopped using Retin-A for various reasons and my skin has staged a rebellion of epic standards. So I decided to return to a line skin care products that has worked wonders for me in the past: MyChelle Dermaceuticals.
I found them a couple of years ago, while trolling the aisles of a local Elephant Pharmacy. I figured, I'd gone the intensive chemical route to no avail, so why not try a kinder, gentler, more natural route? I've since discovered that the less I try to beat my skin into submission, the more likely it is to calm down on its own. Enter MyChelle.
MyChelle is an all-natural, paraben and pthalate free, vegetarian friendly, cruelty-free, all-around good for you line of "dermaceuticals". Essentially, they take a "non-toxic" approach to skin care, opting for plant-based ingredients to better revitalise and heal skin. It's a feel-good, good-for-you, crunchy-happy-people attitude that's easy to get behind, especially since their products work.
As I previously mentioned, I have terrible acne and extreme combination skin -- the T-Zone looks like the Exxon-Valdez wrecked all over my face, while my cheeks are flaky and desert-dry. I opted to control my biggest problems (acne and oil), following MyChelle's suggested skin care routine**. Here are my findings:
- White Cranberry Cleanser: this used to be just the Cranberry Cleanser, but all of MyChelle has undergone a major reformulation/makeover, like the Swan. This was the first product I ever tried, and it made me a believer. It cleared up my acne right quick; quicker than one would expect with an all-natural line. I did find that continuing to use it after my skin had cleared made my skin really tight and dry. Should this happen again, I'd probably work a gentler cleanser into my routine and phase this one out until my skin flares.
- Clear Skin Serum: I incorporated this into my routine out of desperation. I wanted my acne gone 2 years ago, and was willing to pay any amount to see it out the door. This stuff was surprisingly strong. You only need a tiny bit; it's very thin, and very potent. True story: I saw a dramatic difference in the size, amount, and intensity of my acne the very first time I used it.
- Fruit Enzyme Mist: a total waste of money. I have no idea why people continue to use toners; I have no idea what purpose they serve. I was told, very adamantly and by a large number of people, that I absolutely had to use a toner after using the cleanser or else my face would fall off and the universe would collapse. So, not wanting to shoulder the blame for the downfall of all life forms ever, I bought some. And immediately regretted it. You may as well rub sugar water on your face for all the good this stuff does. It goes on heavier than you would think and it made my face feel sticky, like I rubbed sugar water all over it. It does have one thing going for it: it smells really good. But that's all.
- Oil Free Grapefruit Cream: "cream" is a bit of a misnomer in this situation. It's actually a very thin lotion, which works well for me. It does a fair job of reducing my sebum production, and it also works to clear my skin. It's a nice moisturiser to have in my arsenal, but I'm not about to sing praise and hallelujah from the mountaintops. Also: it smells nice, which is important in a moisturiser.
- Incredible Pumpkin Peel: This, I will sing praise for. It is AMAZING and I will end you if you try and take it from me. It's not perfect, but for all the wonderous things it has done to my skin, I am willing to overlook the faults. First, it burns. Don't let anyone tell you it simply "tingles". No, it's a distinct burning. But, on the flipside, you'll get used to it in no time. I can leave it on for upwards of 10 minutes (although you probably wouldn't want to) and I don't need to put a leather strap in my mouth to deal with the pain. Another important piece of information: it's not a peel. I don't know who comes up with the names for these things, but you don't peel it off. It's a simple mask. I guess it's like a chemical peel? I don't know but lord it is good. My skin is smoother, my pores are smaller, my acne less furious and plentiful. Baby ass skin, people. Also: it smells like pumpkin pie. Good-smelling products seems to be a theme with MyChelle, and I'm not going to fight them on it.
But.
My skin never looked better.
Clear skin overnight. Like my face had miraculously been transplanted with Freida Pinto's, it was so good.
Naturally, I've done this many times and every time I found myself doing the same thing: fanning my firey face praying to be lifted up. And every morning, my skin looked amazing. Totally worth it, in my sick mind.
The big, big downfall to MyChelle? You have to be Warren Buffet to afford it.
I am not, but I am willing to use whatever money I have to maintain/continue my quest for good skin. There is a tiny consolation, however: their products will last you for.ev.er. It took me about 5 months of twice-daily use to use up a tiny bottle of cleanser, and, 1 year later, I'm still eeking out my grapefruit cream.
Despite the exorbitant prices, MyChelle Dermaceutical products are worth it. They work fast, they work hard, and they're good for you.
Totally worth it, in my (sick) mind.
--amanda
-------------------------------
*Speaking from personal observation, teenage boys tend to have worse skin than girls. Probably because grimy bastards don't invest in decent skincare.
**Yes, I used all of these products every week. The majority were used both AM and PM. I should have stock in the company.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Sounds about right
Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn't seen it) from Joe Nicolosi on Vimeo.
Amanda (not me) who has never seen Star Wars, attempts to summarise the movies.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Make a Man Out of You
Dear No One in Particular,
I love gentlemen. True, old-fashioned, dyed-in-the-wool chivalrous gentlemen who dress well, hold doors open, refer to women as "ladies" and not as "bitches" -- true men.
You see, the majority of young men I know are ... well, gay, but that's beside the point. The straight ones tend to be more concerned with how they impress their male peers than their female peers. And unfortunately, with the befuddling popularity of gangsta rap, masculinity has become synonymous with acting like a hoodlum.** Young men puff themselves up, in hopes of appearing agressive and therefore hyper-masculine; god forbid they show respect to women, or have a genuine moment -- they might be labelled feminine! No, they have to be "hard", put their "bros before hoes"blah blah bullshit. God forbid they give up their seat on the bus for an elderly woman, lest they be labelled a "pussy".***
Of course, there's the whole boys-in-eyeliner, emo movement to consider, but even that is troublesome and far from the old-fashioned gentleman I hold so close to my heart.
There's something about a well-groomed, sharply dressed man who speaks with all the charm of Sinatra and has the manners of Leopold that makes me go weak in the knees. You know those books Porno for Women and Porn for New Moms? Yeah, that's what The Art of Manliness is for me.
I refuse to believe that the gentleman is a dying breed, romanticized figureheads of a bygone era. Luckily, the geniuses at The Art of Manliness agree with me, and better yet, are working to transform the schlubby young American male into dashing gentlemen.
I found the website while cruising the 2008 Weblog polls (TAoM is up for a Best Culture Blog) and was drawn to the name, wondering if it was tongue-in-cheek. I fully expected blog posts
laden with sarcasm and praise for how bad-ass WFC is -- like this website*, but with more violence.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that The Art of Manliness is entirely genuine, but not without humour or self-awareness. Their articles are fun to read, educational, and just make my heart swell with romance and hope for a new league of 21st century gentlemen.
Their two best posts, in my opinion, are "The Mechanics of a Man Hug" and "Teaching My Son to Be a Man". The former exhibits just how genuinely funny the site is, while the latter is more sentimental, but deeply genuine and poignant.
I'm particularly smitten with their style tips; like Barney Stinson, I am firmly pro-suit. I've been known to demand that the Boy "suit up!" and as we're approaching graduation from university, with adulthood looming larger than ever on the horizon, the Boy's aggressively casual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans is slowly morphing into dress shirts and blazers, much to my delight.
Their relationship articles are also particularly poignant, reasserting the importance of romance and chivalry, especially in a (post-)feminist age. Some of my favourite articles include "How to Save a Marriage", a guide to spicing up a long-term relationship with romance, and "The Virtuous Life", a series based on Ben Franklin's quest to "man up".
Of course, no site is perfect, and my one large criticism of the site is that it is rather hetero-normative. Which, I suppose, is reflective of American society at large, but c'mon. We all know that gay men can be manly men too, and not just in the "butch vs. femme" way, either . Granted, I haven't scoured the website from top to bottom, but really, there's a disturbing lack of discussion of homosexual lifeways.****
I adore this website, and highly recommend it. Pass it along to the men in your life! I did.
--amanda
---------------------------------------------
*The first time I saw this website, I laughed so hard I fell off my bed. True story.
**I'm aware that I sound like a granny, all "kids these days!" But bear with me here, folks.
***I'm also aware that I'm speaking in what appear to be cliches, but trust me, these are deeply rooted in personal experience. I wish they weren't, but god knows they are.
****In the sense that the relationships advice covers only male-female romantic relationships, never male-male.
I love gentlemen. True, old-fashioned, dyed-in-the-wool chivalrous gentlemen who dress well, hold doors open, refer to women as "ladies" and not as "bitches" -- true men.
You see, the majority of young men I know are ... well, gay, but that's beside the point. The straight ones tend to be more concerned with how they impress their male peers than their female peers. And unfortunately, with the befuddling popularity of gangsta rap, masculinity has become synonymous with acting like a hoodlum.** Young men puff themselves up, in hopes of appearing agressive and therefore hyper-masculine; god forbid they show respect to women, or have a genuine moment -- they might be labelled feminine! No, they have to be "hard", put their "bros before hoes"blah blah bullshit. God forbid they give up their seat on the bus for an elderly woman, lest they be labelled a "pussy".***
Of course, there's the whole boys-in-eyeliner, emo movement to consider, but even that is troublesome and far from the old-fashioned gentleman I hold so close to my heart.
There's something about a well-groomed, sharply dressed man who speaks with all the charm of Sinatra and has the manners of Leopold that makes me go weak in the knees. You know those books Porno for Women and Porn for New Moms? Yeah, that's what The Art of Manliness is for me.
I refuse to believe that the gentleman is a dying breed, romanticized figureheads of a bygone era. Luckily, the geniuses at The Art of Manliness agree with me, and better yet, are working to transform the schlubby young American male into dashing gentlemen.
I found the website while cruising the 2008 Weblog polls (TAoM is up for a Best Culture Blog) and was drawn to the name, wondering if it was tongue-in-cheek. I fully expected blog posts
laden with sarcasm and praise for how bad-ass WFC is -- like this website*, but with more violence.
I was pleasantly surprised to find that The Art of Manliness is entirely genuine, but not without humour or self-awareness. Their articles are fun to read, educational, and just make my heart swell with romance and hope for a new league of 21st century gentlemen.
Their two best posts, in my opinion, are "The Mechanics of a Man Hug" and "Teaching My Son to Be a Man". The former exhibits just how genuinely funny the site is, while the latter is more sentimental, but deeply genuine and poignant.
I'm particularly smitten with their style tips; like Barney Stinson, I am firmly pro-suit. I've been known to demand that the Boy "suit up!" and as we're approaching graduation from university, with adulthood looming larger than ever on the horizon, the Boy's aggressively casual uniform of a t-shirt and jeans is slowly morphing into dress shirts and blazers, much to my delight.
Their relationship articles are also particularly poignant, reasserting the importance of romance and chivalry, especially in a (post-)feminist age. Some of my favourite articles include "How to Save a Marriage", a guide to spicing up a long-term relationship with romance, and "The Virtuous Life", a series based on Ben Franklin's quest to "man up".
Of course, no site is perfect, and my one large criticism of the site is that it is rather hetero-normative. Which, I suppose, is reflective of American society at large, but c'mon. We all know that gay men can be manly men too, and not just in the "butch vs. femme" way, either . Granted, I haven't scoured the website from top to bottom, but really, there's a disturbing lack of discussion of homosexual lifeways.****
I adore this website, and highly recommend it. Pass it along to the men in your life! I did.
--amanda
---------------------------------------------
*The first time I saw this website, I laughed so hard I fell off my bed. True story.
**I'm aware that I sound like a granny, all "kids these days!" But bear with me here, folks.
***I'm also aware that I'm speaking in what appear to be cliches, but trust me, these are deeply rooted in personal experience. I wish they weren't, but god knows they are.
****In the sense that the relationships advice covers only male-female romantic relationships, never male-male.
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