The "F" Word

F is for Finally

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Tue, 31 May 2011 02:34:00 +0000

Finally I have come back home again. I have a lot of issues to deal with.

Every year I get older, amazingly. And once again, as I start my life over. This is New Life 3.0 for me. I find myself looking at and responding to the world differently. I think it responds differently to me too. Sometimes in a favorable way. Other times in ways that I am not ready for.

In business, I get a lot of respect. In my personal life, I often find myself feeling irrelevant. This summer I would like to discover how much of these reactions are objective and true and how many are dependent on my inner perceptions of myself.

Gee, it feels good to be back on this page again.

Let's have some fun this summer.

Feeling a litlle . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 21:00:00 +0000

Like a New Soul . . .

The Equation for Contentment

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 23:59:00 +0000

I'm sorry. I've been off-topic for a while. But, the truth is . . .

I'm not having a hard time with my station in life at the moment. Why?

Yoga.

As I mentioned before, I'm doing Bikram Yoga. It forces me to stay hydrated. One of my yoga teachers says that the blood it brings to my face plumps the cells. I don't know if it is the hydration or the "mini-face-lift" she describes, but when I look in the mirror, I don't see the tired lady with the minute lines starting to give her face "character." I'm not tired like I was. When I do get tired I Sleep. (Capital letter fully intended. The sleep is that good.)

+ Listening to My Body

I stayed home from work recently because I got a little case of bronchitis, and, because I now know what a healthy body feels like, I had no problem giving it what it needs to get healthy again quickly. I have decided that there is no real virtue in "toughing it out;" you just have to suffer longer. But that is not my point.

+ New Books

However . . . during that time at home, I was "Oprah-fied." (That's when you give in to the Goddess Oprah and really listen to her latest plan to rejuvenate the world. ) I admit it; I bought in. I buy a lot when I am sick and watching TV. I'm currently in the middle of Eckhardt Tolle's book, The New Earth. I even picked up The Secret. All of this is stuff I know, and stuff I have been applying to my life increasingly in the past year. (Truthfully, I have come a long way from where I was a year ago.)

+ Herbal Tea

Oh yeah. Then I fell in love with herbal tea. I discovered this place online called The Blessed Thistle. The woman who runs it is a true herbalist and the teas are Magnificent. (This is the direct link for the tea page.) I bought a sampler pack and could not find one tea that I disliked. They all tasted great and delivered on their promises. I just bought my second batch today. Not all these events happened in the order listed, but they all happened at the same time.

= Contentment

All in all, I am quite happy with myself. I am still a fashion disaster because it is winter and just getting up in the dark to go to work is an accomplishment for me. I guess I can continue to improve there. However, it just doesn't seem as important now. Perhaps for the next little bit, you may have to put up with posts about bliss and happiness with this very interesting decade of life.

New Focus?

Titles like "5 Things That Make You Believe It May Be Possible to Pronounce That Evil F-word: Forty."

That might not be so bad, would it?

Photo by Terwilliger911 through Creative Commons.

F is for Fantastic

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 21:43:00 +0000

I wanted to take my time with this one because I wanted to do it right.

The previous clip is footage of one of my friends, Stanley Love, being launched into space as part of the crew of STS-122. It was his first launch. He realized (what I believe to be) a lifelong dream, and my students and I watched it live (via the internet) as he prepared to fly and then launched on his mission.

Every time I watch this footage, especially the countdown, my heart catches for just a moment. The thrill I receive has most to do with the great joy of seeing him do something he has always wanted to do. It is like the gratification one receives at the thundering crescendo of a symphony as it grows toward its climax, the heart pounding thrill of being one with the music and the composer's vision, even though it is only vicarious, even though you are only getting a pale echo of what it must feel like to be that composer and have the experience yourself. I know his triumph belongs to him and his family, but I can't help but feel triumphant too, like for a moment anything is possible for all of us if we work for it and do what it takes.

A Profile

Stan Love is among the top 10 most intelligent, creative people I have ever met. This video does not begin to give a flavor for the man I know, but it is a start.

Footage of Him in Action

During his time in space, Love walked at least twice. This is footage of his last trip outside the space station. I believe this was the assignment he was originally planning to be a part of. However when Hans Schlegel became ill early on in the mission, Love was called upon to take part in actually installing the new laboratory, Columbus, to the international space station. He was then required to add another space walk to his agenda.

Touchdown

Finally, on Wednesday, the symphony of dreams reached its resolution as Atlantis landed, safely and beautifully once again on Earth. Both takeoff and landing looked picture perfect to me, and I hope that his trip was everything he dreamed it would be.

I am ignorant of so much of the science that happened on this mission. As an English teacher, I am far more into symbolism anyway. Once again, even though I know it is his triumph, I am honored to have been able to vicariously attach my own meaning to these moments, and I sincerely hope he does not mind that I have taken this time to share them with you.

P.S.

I don't mean to brag, but I have another friend at NASA who was also instrumental in the STS-122 mission, and many others as well. His name is Glenn Pogue, and he is part of Mission Control, routinely launching astronauts into space and guiding them to their destinations. Thanks, Glenn. I know this little blurb doesn't do enough to appreciate the things you do for the space program, but I couldn't let the fact go unnoticed.

A Call to Action

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 19:42:00 +0000

Alright. I realize it is too late for me (and even my kids, probably) to put a stop to it. But I have a plea for all you parents of children 4 and under.

STOP THE MADNESS!!!

You have a chance to raise your sons and daughters to see a better world. You can do it. The world doesn't have to look like it does right now.

You see, I'm an alumnus of Northern Illinois University. I was shocked and moved and betrayed by the events that happened there this past Valentines Day. (I was also in shock when events played out at Virginia Tech last year.)

I was most disturbed by the fact that various places that I spent many beautiful, peaceful, and happy hours have now been touched by blood, and traversed by SWAT teams. A memorial to the dead now stands on a hill that my young sons and I spent an afternoon giggling and rolling down. All our hearts are tainted by the events that occurred last Thursday.

I teach high school in DeKalb County and many of my students graduate and attend classes on campus there. Many of my current students also find themselves on campus for various reasons. Some co-workers from my part-time job also are their pursuing their Bachelor's Degree. Worry ran high, but no one was lost or even in the lecture hall (Thank God). My colleagues and I are fortunate.

But it is time to look at the bigger picture. How can we make this stop? Eric Zorn of the Chicago Tribune asked his readers for some description of the problem. He got a lot of answers.

As I told you: It is too late for me and my generation. The children we have raised are the ones engulfed by violence in one form or another almost every second of the day. Our children have been raised by daycare in large groups and many lack a sound background in our own family values. There may not be much we can do for them. However, it is probably never too late to try to bring civility and the expression "This is what our family does . . ." into various conversations and situations.

The school where I teach has been in the process of forming a curriculum in Social and Emotional Learning (a less technical phrase would be a curriculum in how to know oneself and get along with others). For a good article on this go to the CASEL website and click on the article from O Magazine called "the New Improved Self Esteem." You will find it under the announcements section.

One reason we are implementing this curriculum is because it is mandated by the state. The other is because our students often don't have a clue how to deal with situations that involve uncomfortable feelings like when someone doesn't agree with you, or you don't see any way of achieving what you want quickly, or you just feel bad and don't seem to fit in. Fights increase as our school population becomes more diverse, not just ethnically but socio-economically as well. Cruel, threatening, words are spoken just to get attention or to make a particular student feel like they have an affect on the world. Our students come from homes where, if the same tactics have not been used by the parents and role models in the home, those tactics have not been corrected because the world is a "tough place" and people have to be tough along with it. You can't be "weak:" you need to win and never back down or lose face or embarrass yourself.

This needs to stop. Today.

A new world will not begin in a world with more guns or less guns. Nor will it begin in a world with more abortions or less abortions, more God or less God, more drugs or less drugs. It will begin in the nursery.

A New World will begin with:

The unabashed love of each parent for his or her child. This love will not tolerate an unkind act, not from the daycare bully or (most importantly) from their own child to another. It will begin with responsibility for actions. When the child is too young to know better and does something unkind to a playmate or embarrassing to a neighbor or friend that act will not be shrugged off or laughed at. That act will be met head on and corrected, apologized for, and restitution will be made to the wronged party. Parents will be examples of the Right Thing to do, meeting uncomfortable situations and feelings eye to eye, never wavering, being brave.

When a child has problems that make them hard to manage, or that might be embarrassing to acknowledge. Parents will love their children enough to meet that issue head on, get the child the help they need and never waste a moment on regret or shame. The only shame is in not doing what it takes to give a child the best possible chance of existing comfortably with in the bounds of this world.

The True Acceptance of Difference. I am in no way advocating conformity, but I am advocating the acceptance of difference. People are not alike. It is ok to stop pretending that we are. Even though all ways of being are valid. No one will be liked by everyone. Children should be taught how to dislike, disagree with, and be different from each other without needing the opponent to be less than they are. An opposing viewpoint does not negate your own. A good wish from a different culture is still a good wish. Teach children to live with love and acceptance and they will love and accept.

Guidance. Children need guidance, and that is what they have lacked from my generation. We want our kids to be happy and we run around trying to do what it takes to give them the things that will "make" them happy. The truth is, we cannot make anyone happy. No car, no game system, no amount of freedom will do it. Children grow happy when given guidance and the ability to be unhappy and learn that it will pass.

The Courage to Be Uncompfortable. If it sounds like I am advocating a world where every mother or father stays home with their child, I'm not. I'm advocating a world where sometimes a parent chooses the discomfort of their child's protests over the comfort of a quick fix. I'm advocating for a world where every parent advocates for a child's right to be themselves, but not at the expense of another child's rights. If your child likes to push others around, give them the guidance to know that is wrong. If your child is harassed let them know they did not cause it by their existence and show them how people work together to settle difference. Do not be upset if your child's behavior is criticized, look for the truth and help the child adapt to exist peacefully.

Zero Tolerance for Unkindness. Don't tolerate rudeness and active unkindness from each other or in your children. Some "jokes" just aren't funny. Don't let people belittle others then hide behind that excuse; don't do it to your kids.

Don't let Daycare and Elementary School be the places where kids go to learn to be mean and to learn to tolerate the tough treatment that the world has to offer. Teach them a better way, and as best you can, for their sakes, follow that better way yourself.

If we start now, with our children under five years of age, if we stand tough and brave, and filled with Love, we may be able to make scenes like the one at Northern an anomaly of history.

I am an undying optimist and I know that calls for Utopian solutions don't work. I guess I assume that we all want the same things, and I shouldn't. But we need to make a plan somehow.

5 Ways to Maintain Until Your Next Yoga Class

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Thu, 24 Jan 2008 01:39:00 +0000

Ack! I'm antsy.

Last Sunday I took the Bikram Yoga class. I enjoyed it as I told you before.

The next day I was not nearly as sore as I thought I would be, and I have been eagerly looking forward to going back to class. The plan was to make it back this evening. Not happening. I had my last late night at work, finally completed the project, but I couldn't just pack up and go to class.

Everyone says: "Its amazing the changes you will feel." I don't know what they mean exactly, except that I have been very pleasantly conscious of my body since then. I know when it needs to breathe, eat, sleep, and especially drink water. The only way I can describe it is that my mind has been very "full of" my body since Sunday. I am amazed at how anxious I am to get back. What really happened there?

The only problem is that my body is becoming very viscerally insistent that I have to go back to "that place" to the point that I will almost do anything and shirk any responsibility to get back there. Therefore, I have decided to give myself 5 ways to maintain until my next yoga class.

Drink Water. Whenever I feel like I need to climb out of my skin in order to make my muscles let up on their chatter ("I'm stiff," "Are we there yet?" "Can't we just stretch a little bit?"), I drink some water and feel its chilly goodness spread through my body.
Take a bath. A candlelit bath with aromatherapy oils, and soft soothing music has been getting me relaxed in the evenings. I even try to do a little meditation to get my mind off the day's stress.
Work Hard. Do the things I need to so that when I actually do get a chance to go, I will not feel guilty about being there and not being wherever my work waits for me.
Sleep Deeply. I have been trying my best to sleep well to aid my body in recovery from what it goes through in class.
Check the class schedule. Maybe I missed a class that I could attend. No, I was right I would have to break the sound barrier in order to make it in time from my workplace.

So these tips probably aren't any more helpful to you than they are to me. But . . . Maybe, tomorrow, if I leave work early . . .

Or, maybe you can clue me in about how you maintain by posting a comment.

Whoo!! I Feel Like I Climbed a Mountain

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 18:48:00 +0000

First Bikram Yoga class today. Yay!

I actually made it through the whole thing. My goal was to pace myself and do at least one set of each posture. This turned out to be a good plan because halfway through I was asking myself if I would make it, but I was determined and actually did a fairly nice job. (Meaning: I made it through and never threw up.)(Not once.)

Bikram Yoga is a type of yoga that is performed in a room that is kept in the neighborhood of 105 degrees and 40 percent humidity. My instructor was apologetic that the room was only 94 degrees today, but there was a problem with the heating unit due to the severe cold we are undergoing in the Chicago area.

Frankly, I was happy. I'm not sure how I would have done if things were any hotter. I will find out on Tuesday night I guess. The other participants said that since we had such a large group the temperatures felt fairly similar.

I have to say, they take very good care of first timers there. I was given a very nice yoga mat to use, and after the session, they gave me a free coconut water to help hydrate me. (And I needed it.)

Mick was my instructor, and he even helped me surprise myself when he gave me a tip for a posture I was having difficulty with and the next thing I knew, I was in a position that I thought it would take me months to even begin to achieve. I'm not saying I was perfect at it, but I was in it.

I have an introductory incentive plan trying to get me back eight times in the next eight days. I think I will be able to do three or four times, but the cost savings will be enormous.

The thing I like about doing this is that I feel like I lived through an adventure. An "adventure" is something that enriched your life or gives you a tale to tell, something that you are very glad and thankful that you did. It may not have been comfortable to get through, but you would do it again in a heartbeat.

That's how I feel about this yoga class.

So listen . . . if you live in the Plainfield, IL area. I totally recommend going to Bikram Yoga Plainfield. Tell them Some Feisty Chick sent you.

Sometimes I Think My Honey has the Hardest Job of All

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 01:48:00 +0000

At times like this I drift, and I'm not sure who doesn't get it.

My New Must See Series

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 19 Jan 2008 01:09:00 +0000

Ok. So my family (two young boys and my Honey) made merciless fun of me when I wanted to record this series and sample it. But How to Look Good Naked is awesome.

My Honey scoffed because reality TV is not our genre of choice. (Too much Big Brother and Real World.) We get our reality based TV fix from Joel McHale on The Soup. The boys just don't even want to think about their mom naked (Thank God. That is exactly how it should be.) They certainly aren't comfortable that their mom might want to look good in that condition. (Once again, all is absolutely correct in our little world.)

But, now that I have had a chance to watch it. All the males are gone for the evening and I don't need to worry about mildly amused testosterone sending mild whiffs of sarcasm floating through the atmosphere. I love that show.

The episode I just watched had a young girl named Marlo who had just survived treatment for Hodgekins Lymphoma trying to deal with her new post-chemo body. At first I felt awkward ever time Carson asked her to strip to her underwear, but, all the makeover girls look good with clothes hiding their imperfections. We all stand and look at ourselves in the mirror before and after showers and deal with all our imperfections constantly. The look that Marlo had on her face as she confronted herself in the three-way mirror and said out loud how disappointed she was in her body, is exactly the look that I get at certain times when I look at myself. I guess what I'm saying is it is easy to empathize. Then they get right to business, and you watch as her confidence climbs.

I really enjoyed it, and set it up for series recordings right after completing the episode.

It really is nice to see a network trying to tell women to see what is good about themselves instead of all the points that need to be tweaked.

Now, if the network can get rid of all the advertisers who are selling weight loss products and other items meant to feed on your insecurities during that time slot. It is the age old conundrum: How do you create content that asks/teaches women to accept themselves as they are yet keep the money coming in from advertisers who make money by making sure women feel imperfect?

Is there a product aimed at women that is not trying to make them slimmer, fitter, younger, or more beautiful?

Anyway, it is a great series. I also like the fact that it is not featuring foul mouthed brides or women with too much money throwing a fit because they are not getting worshiped enough.

Here's a little clip I found on YouTube that might give you an idea.

Feeling a little . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Thu, 17 Jan 2008 00:24:00 +0000

Melancholy to day for many reasons.

Slowing Down

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sun, 13 Jan 2008 17:21:00 +0000

My household is filled with busy people. I work a full-time job and run a brand new non-profit organization. My Honey is self- employed and works 60 hour weeks. Both the boys are in school and have friends, homework and extra-curricular activities.

But lately I have been wondering what the world would be like if we all slowed down and simplified.

The folks over at LifeHacker have the answer. Clear your mind and slow down. They link to an article over at zenhabits that really reinforced my dreams of a slower world. This article describes an exercise for setting yourself on the right course in which you visualize yourself spending a day, then a half-day, then an hour not working or rushing around, doing something you truly enjoy (not just vegging in front of the TV). It sounds good to me. It sounds a lot like the artist dates I ask my students to give themselves each week. That time is meant to be used for recharging and regenerating. I think it is a good idea.

I apparently need it because I am finding myself wanting to pick fights and create strife where their really is no basis. This is usually my indication that I am overtired.

So what am I going to do about it? Well, nothing today. I have to grade a bunch of papers and organize the work for my new class that I will begin teaching Monday night. But . . . next Sunday . . . I'm going to take a Bikram Yoga class. (Believe me the irony is not lost that I am adding an activity.) But in my defense, my Monday night dance workout class is ending, so I'm actually replacing an activity that is tight in my schedule with one that I do not have to rush to.

I'm also going to try the Bikram yoga because it appeals to my sensual nature. In order to show that I am enviro-conscious as well as frugal, I have decided to agree to keeping the house at 65 degrees this month. (I am a cold-blooded individual, so this means I am freezing all the time.) Bikram Yoga is practiced in very hot rooms. Therefore, I am believing that the heat which is meant to allow your muscles to stretch easily will also give me my fix of toastiness tha I find necessary to maintain a good humor.

Well, here's hoping anyway.

All Made Up 2 or How I Got Someone "Fired" Over the Holidays

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 12 Jan 2008 14:02:00 +0000

If you will recall, shortly before the Holidays I went to Mario T's and got my makeup done. I was very happy with the results. It was all nice and polished and refreshing with a slightly smoky eye. The look was exactly what I needed. I run my own non-profit business, and I need to look polished so that I seem competent when I meet prospective donors and other professionals. Plus I need to inspire a little confidence in the teens I work with.

So, anyway, I thought it was perfect, and. . . high on make-up fumes or something I purchased a lot. (About $250 worth to be exact.)

About two hours later, I came down from the fumes and realized what I had done. I couldn't justify that expense to myself, much less to my Honey who is currently working 60 and 80 hour weeks. So I resolved that I would return the product (after I went to Target and looked for replacements.) Needless to say, I went to Target and replaced about $180 of that make-up for $29. Lesson #1 learned: you really can get the same look for less.

I called Mario T's to confirm that the writing on the bottom of their receipt was true. The young lady on the phone agreed that I could, indeed, return those items. However, if I had any custom blend items, I would only get store credit for those. Ok, I thought, and returned the $45 liquid foundation to my make-up box. If I couldn't get my money back, I might as well keep the product.

Then the Good Stuff began. . . .

When I arrived at the salon, the young ladies behind the counter were helpful enough. The first understood my woes, but her cash register was not set up to do returns, so she passed me off to the young woman to her left. This one got busy fixing me up. She asked me to wait a moment and came back with a certificate for credit.

"I wanted a refund," I said.

"That's a refund," she assured me.

"Are you sure? It looks like an in store credit," I said.

"No. It is a refund," she said.

I took about three steps out of the store, and had to turn around and go back.

"Ok," I said. "I'm kind of stupid about these things, but when I say I want a refund, that means that I expect to look at my Discover Card bill and see $89.00 go back into my account. Will I see that when I look at my bill? Or does this slip of paper mean I get to come back here and get $89 worth of something done to me."

"You get $89 worth of services," she said brightly.

"Look. If it was okay to spend $89 here at this time, I would have kept the make-up. I wanted a refund."

"Yeah. . . . Well, I don't know how to undo it now," she said, "and our manager won't be here til Tuesday. Can I have her call you?"

"I really want this taken care of today," I said.

By this time, the first girl I talked to was getting agitated and kept asking the second girl why she had done such a thing. The second girl looked at her and said that she was told that she was always supposed to give in store credits unless a manager said otherwise. (Lesson #2: Always deal with a manager at Mario T's.)

Tuesday came and went. No Phone call. I started calling at various times of day until I got through on the following Saturday. When I explained the situation to the manager, her first words were unlucky because she said, "Well . . . I'm not sure how we can fix that."

Aaagh! I lost it (just a tiny bit.) "Well, you better figure it out," I said. I then received a lecture about how rude I was and how my behavior was uncalled for. (I personally don't think one tight lipped snap deserved it under the circumstances, but . . . I will admit this was my first dealing with her.)

I explained my frustration, and how those particular words were not at all what I needed to here at that momemnt. Then I told her about the comment that it was policy to always give credit, not refunds, even though the store states that they do make refunds. Then the manager tells me she understands my frustration, and I should rest easy because "that girl has been fired."

(That really doesn't make me feel any better you know. Even though I'm hoping it was a line of crap, all I wanted was for "that girl" to get a firm talking to. I really don't want to think of any of my complaints causing someone to be unemployed at the Holidays. I really don't want to have that big of an impact on the world.)

Writing this reminds me that I have to check my Discover Card bill for the credit. I have been out of town and have not heard anything about the whole transaction since I was assured that it was taken care of. The nightmare may not yet be over. Dee de Dee de ... Dee de dee de . . .

(Here's hoping that sounded like Twilight Zone music to you.)

I Still Love My Heels But . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Tue, 08 Jan 2008 01:41:00 +0000

Click this link to see an enlarged and more complete version of what we do to ourselves when we wear heels.

Over the weekend my Honey and I went out with friends, and I was Stylin'!

Our friends really haven't seen me since I started my personal "remodeling" program. They commented quite a bit on how good I was looking. The plan fell short though when we decided that we would walk to the lake instead of staying at the restaurant listening to jazz. My three inch heels and I slowed the procession quite a bit. I just kept telling them they had to "Style" along with me. Because they are good natured people our Style was a source of great merriment . . . and two big blisters on the ball of my foot under my big toe.

A New Blog to Add to My Favorites

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 22:02:00 +0000

I saw this blog in Bloggers featured space.

No wonder it is featured. It looks really excellent.

It is indeed Flawless Beauty. I think I will be returning there often.

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!!

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Tue, 25 Dec 2007 21:53:00 +0000

Yay!!! It is finally Christmas day.

We had a great time last night. Santa came right on schedule. Well, actually he surprised us all and showed up while we were downstairs playing Killer Bunnies. (An amazing card game that we have been playing for several years that really can't be explained. It just has to be experienced.)

That really made my 10 year old's day. He actually got his Rock Band game. Santa comes through again.

The rest of us also received amazing gifts and remembered how lucky we are to have each other.

I hope everyone else was able to have just as pleasant a Christmas as we did. Now on to the New Year!!!

All Made Up

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 08 Dec 2007 19:57:00 +0000

As promised I got my make-up done today.

I think I am pleased. (My Honey will not be because the cost of the product that I couldn't live without was more than the cost of the spa package in the first place. But . . . hey (shrug shoulders in what I hope is a brave way) . . . that's quality make-up. Right?

My make-up artist was very knowledgeable and very perceptive. (I like that in a woman who is going to help me recreate myself.)

She "prepared my skin for the make-up" by putting on moisturizer and an eye cream (that, looking back, I should have bought). Then she created a foundation that is custom blended to match my skin tone. I like that. It is mineral based which means that it is light and breezy. I'm a big fan of the mineral make-up.

She did my eyes in a semi-smoky style but with neutral colors. I like them. They really pop.

She did something really interesting with my lips. She lined them. Then she put a gloss over them. No lipstick. It looks really cool.

I wanted to take pictures to show you haw great this looks, but, as usual, I am not getting shots that do it justice.

Only my Honey takes good photos of me these days. But he is always at work, so it is hard to get him to take pictures when I want them. (He will see the bill for this make-up and announce that he is going to have to be at work even longer to fuel my make-up habit.)

However, I am presenting myself to the public more and more often and I need to be presentable.

Getting My Make-up Done

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 23:10:00 +0000

Tomorrow I will be finishing off my Spa Essentials Package at Mario Tricoci's by getting a Make-up Application. I called the salon so that I would not be surprised by the services I received.

"Hi, I have an appointment tomorrow morning to complete my Spa Essentials Package by having my make-up done. I was wondering what that service entails," I said.

The receptionist described it to me. "Well, you're scheduled for the half-hour make-up application," she said.

"OK," I said. "I'll tell you what I am looking for. I want to totally re-vamp my make-up look. Do I want to stick with this service, or do I want to upgrade to the next level?"

"The next level is an hour long make-up lesson,"she said.

"How is that different form the half-hour application?"

"With the application, they put the make-up on you. With the lesson, they do one side and have you do the other. It's like a lesson."

"OK. I guess I'll just stick with what I have," I said, feeling less enlightened than when I started out. I'm willing to spend the money, if I will come out looking brand new. I guess if I don't like what I get, I'll just go to the mall.

Maybe I'll do that anyway.

Virtual Model

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Fri, 07 Dec 2007 22:55:00 +0000

I spent most of Yesterday playing with My Virtual Model as you can see over there on the right. While she doesn't look exactly like me, she comes close at least body-wise, and I did enjoy putting together outfits from the rather limited selection.

So far H&M, Sears, Lands End, and Couture Candy have put items online for viewing.

I did have some issues with selecting an outfit, then having the computer substitute this frumpy pair of pants for whatever I had chosen. I also couldn't get it to let me leave a blouse un-tucked if that was my desire.

Otherwise it was a pretty fun toy. It will be neater as more suppliers give them clothes to work with.

It kind of inspired me to think about cruising my real closet and putting together some outfits there myself. (A task/adventure that I have been putting off for way too long.)

The Fairy Stylist Mother Smiled

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 23:28:00 +0000

In my last post about age appropriate dressing, I wished whole heartedly that the Fairy stylist mother would wave her wand over my closet and make it perfect. Well . . . she didn't do that, but the next day I found an e-mail addressed to me from Brenda Kinsel whose work has often given me an answer to my fashion confusion prayers over the past year.

If you read her comment, you will discover that she has a new book out: Brenda Kinsel's Fashion Makeover: 30 Days to Diva Style! (That link will lead you to Amazon)

On its own just being contacted by her would be exciting enough, but she has actually agreed to place a post on this site every now and then too.

It can't get much more fun than this!

What is Age Appropriate?

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 01 Dec 2007 17:35:00 +0000

I ask myself that question all the time. The horrible thing is, I never thought I would. I have always had my mother there to, very happily, tell me that I was not dressing my age.

It used to be that I was dressing too maturely: "You can't go out wearing that tight black mini-skirt and a lacey tank top. You are only fourteen! Do you want the boys to think you're easy?" Well . . . Yeah! Duh! But she would never buy that and she would follow me around 'til I changed.

A few years ago, shortly after my divorce it went like this: "Are you sure you want to go to your son's school play dressed in that black mini-skirt and lacey tank top?What do you think you are 20?" Well . . . Yeah! Duh! But she would never buy that and her voice would haunt me 'til I changed. Who ever said that dressing immaturely would be a problem? I live by my father's adage: "Dress young and act immature and no one will ever know how old you are."

My mother, maddeningly, was often right in her assessments. I can see that in hindsight.

Now I don't even need her. (Though she still will willingly offer her insight, if I ask her.) Every time I go out to buy a new outfit, I hear this voice say: "So are you really going to buy that? How pathetic are you? Do you think that will make you look even 25 again?" The voice (far harsher than my mother's) gets louder the more excited I am about my new look.

I believe my fashion barometer is slightly off because I work with a group of totally fashion conscious 17 year-old girls. My living example of "looking good" is what I see on these girls. I don't want to dress like a 17 year old, but a lot of the things they wear, I find very appealing.

Combine that with a total natural love of hip huggers and rayon and soft flowy fabrics and hippy things and I become a schizophrenic fashion disaster waiting to happen. The other day I got up (very early in the morning, thinking strictly of comfort to get me through the day) picked out a pair of black jeans; a purple, sort of tie-dyed long sleeved knit shirt; and a black, flowing sweater coat. I thought, in my half-groggy state, that I would pull it together with this green crocheted head band by scrunci.

I pulled it together alright. I pulled it all the way back to 1968. Then to top it off I had to go to an important meeting in the afternoon that I was not thinking about at 5 a.m. when I was dressing myself. Thankfully, most of the people in the meeting knew me, so my credibility was not absolutely lost.

But, my natural need for that hippy, artsy, creative look makes me wonder if I am turning into one of those middle aged hippy chicks that populate the arts community. They are very fine, down to earth, lovable women, and I would choose them over some other kinds of women every moment of the day, but I don't want to get pegged in that hole. Think Dharma's mom, Abby, on Dharma and Greg.

But, you know, that is not a bad stereotype to be put in, either. Maybe I have to just give in.

I have to start reading Brenda Kinsel again and get back in touch with where I want my image to head.

OH . . . Why won't the Fairy Stylist-Mother come wave her wand over my closet and give me clothes I look hot and impressive in, that are suitable for any occasion, and don't make me wonder what message I am sending to the world? That would be the best thing for me.

Anyway, I went looking around to see if others are having this trouble with being age appropriate. Kim Johnson Gross of More.com had this to say:

Our generation is redefining the concept of aging, just as we've redefined everything else. Style after 40 is not about competing with your daughters or dressing like the girl you were 20 years ago; it's about dressing like the girl you are now. If you prefer a scoop neck or a short skirt, how much of you you show is your decision. What really matters is that you feel as comfortable in your clothes as you do in your skin.

I like that conclusion. I forget that point a lot of the time. So many times I am fighting against this imaginary 25 year old that will steal everything I have if I am not vigilant. I am so afraid that my Honey, who fully knows how old I am and chose me over all the 25 year olds out there, will figure out that I am not 25, come to his senses and this wonderful life we have built will be gone. Where does that come from?

(Oh yeah! TV, Movies, the Internet . . . magazines, novels, the Bible. I need to make a note to myself to stay away from those things.)

I need to start having confidence in myself. Most of the time I do. I have a mantra that I recite when I start to feel down, or try to talk myself out of my Remodeling program. (It is still on-going, just not at the same speed as during the summer. I'm a bit busy these days.) I'm beginning to be more comfortable in my own skin and with my own likes and dislikes. I just have to learn to trust them and my instincts more.

I still have so many years of overcoming my Mother's voice to combat, and a lot of clothes she gave me with the assurances that they were far more appropriate than my tastes. (Remember she is very often quite right.)

Still I take heart in this quote from Kim Johnson Gross' piece:

The style-confident women I know say that the idea of age-appropriate dressing has no meaning for them; it's more about body-appropriate dressing. My friend Susan, an independent, creative mother of four, recently did a major purge of the dowdy clothes in her closet, most of which her mother had given her. "I kept them for years, thinking I would wear them when I turned 50," she says. "But 50 came and went, and I realized they still look dowdy -- and I don't."

How Long Should a Professional Manicure Last?

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 01 Dec 2007 01:59:00 +0000

I got my nails done last week and the polish is already wearing off at the tips of the nails.

I don't do too much that is strenuous: Mostly the equivalent of office work. I don't even do dishes. My home manicures last longer.

Maybe I am overreacting. I just checked and I was given the classic manicure which is not the full service manicure. But I still think it should not look this bad after one week. When I figure out how to get a good picture of them, I will show you.

Shoulders Must Not Be in This Season

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Mon, 26 Nov 2007 23:50:00 +0000

I really need a coat. (As in I got rid of all my not me, boring, broken, winter coats last spring, and now it is November, and I'm freezing my bippy.)

No problem, I thought. I'll just go out and buy a coat. One of those nifty navy pea coat inspired things. That should be nice. It is casual for my less dressy moments (that would be almost all of my moments) and it could be dressed up for my more formal moments (that are few and far between but occasional). I can't afford different coats for different occasions.

Imagine my surprise when I put on the coat that is sized for my body, and I almost couldn't lift my arms. When I sized up to fit my shoulders the sleeves dangled past my finger tips. I might as well start wearing my Honey's coats. He's 6'4. I'm 5'4. When I wear his clothes I look like a four year old in her Daddy's jacket.

I'm just not wild about paying somewhere in the neighborhood of $100 or more (on sale) for a jacket that doesn't fit. Also, has anybody noticed that these expensive wool coats are made from fabric just slightly thicker than fleece. What's that all about?

Maybe I will go to the boys or young men's department to see what I can find. I think these kind of coats are popular over there too. If I can get it in the boys department, it might even be cheaper.

Mario T's vs. Coldwater Creek vs. ???

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 17:50:00 +0000

I'm having a contest.

Any Day Spa that would like to be reviewed and entered in my contest can contact me online and schedule to make me beautiful.

So far this year, I have been to Mario Tricoci's and Coldwater Creek's spas.

I loved Coldwater Creek's amenities. I was blown away by the spa waiting room and the soft voluminous robes they give out to their customers. They washed my feet for free before my service! (It seems freaky, but if I were rich and could afford to be eccentric, I would do that fro all my guests when they arrive at my house. There is something to be said for that biblical custom.) They have a staff member in charge of the waiting room. That person gives out ward neck pillows, water, snacks, customers are never left waiting or wanting and their presence is not imposing either.

I only had a hot river stone treatment on that visit, but I felt like a queen.

The treatment itself didn't go so well. I got the feeling that the therapist was not very familiar or comfortable with the treatment. It was not as satisfying or relaxing as I thought it should have been, but I have been lusting after one of those Coldwater Creek robes for a very long time.

I loved my massage and facial at Tricoci's.

I found the amenities to be lacking. There was one maybe two tiny tables in the spa waiting room not big enough to set anything on. not even a glass of water or the little cups of banana chips or sesame thingies that were set out for snacks. There was no one in charge of guests in the waiting room, just one mousy young lady who collected water glasses left behind by patrons. I was sent to a small changing room and given a locker which contained a wrap and a robe, both of which were sorely in need of fabric softener. (For the price, you can splurge a bit.) Patrons who only came for one service were not given a chance to change into the wrap and robe. They just went to their service and must have been expected to strip and hop on the table.

Feel free to prove me wrong. Or if you think your private spa totally blows away the big name spas, let me see. I'd be glad to write about you.

A Day of Bliss, well sort of . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 16:44:00 +0000

So . . . I went to Mario Tricoci's for my Spa day.

The last time I went there was about 5 years ago, and I went to a spa in a different town than the one I went to yesterday.

The first thing I have to say is that the massage and facial I got there were awesome.

My massage therapist was a small, young, Russian woman. She couldn't have weighed more than 95 pounds. I thought, yeah, you're going to give me a deep tissue massage. I could wrestle you to the ground so fast. But she did a really great job. I was not kidding when I said that I could not tip my head before I went in. She loosened my neck and got rid of the band of pain that wrapped itself around my left shoulder blade. Her advice, after working diligently on my back for 50 minutes, was to make appointments every two weeks until we get rid of the knots. She's right, but there is this little thing called money that stands between me and that sort of pain free existence.

I was also given a facial, just a basic one, but the woman who gave it to me was really good. She was very gentle.

I don't tend to enjoy facials too much. It flashes me back to my ill spent, ugly duckling, pre-adolescent days.

Now that I've met a few of them, I believe my mother should have been an aesthetician because she could not stand my eleven year old clogging pores. I would be sitting somewhere, reading a book, or writing in my diary and she would look at me and say, "Hey, Sweetie. Why don't you come over here and sit by mommy?" Obedient daughter that I was, I would do what she asked and the next thing I knew she would have me in a head lock and be squeezing my blackheads and clogged pores as I flailed and screamed. Therefore, when placed in the chair for my facial, I most often instantly become eleven at the moment that the aesthetician turns on the steam, gets out the magnifying lense, and slowly works the yuck out of my pores. (You would think that, since I am always looking for avenues back to my youth, this would thrill me. . . But . . . no.)

Yet this particular woman made me feel good and cleansed, not like a struggling animal caught in my mother's grip. I have no idea what she put on my face, but I came out of the facial with all the features I don't like about my skin not bothering me so much. I told my Honey that all the places that I am sagging and bagging didn't sag or bag anymore. He expressed astonishment that anyplace sagged or bagged. I said that was good. I was supposed to see them first and worry long before they ever came to his attention. He looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I am. (I should never have mentioned that I sag or bag at all.)

I also had my nails done. This procedure is usually left for last for many reasons. But the women who do this have to remember that they are the last memory we "spa package" ladies have of our experience.

This particular one came for me. Took me out to the nail area. Didn't even look at me. Gestured to the colors and said, "Pick one." I did.

She began working on my nails and spent all her time looking past my right shoulder toward the reservations counter, not saying a word to me. I was almost to the point of saying, "Is there something wrong with you? What is over there?" when she stands up and says "You need to go to the sink. Its at the end of the make-up counter over there."

I asked her to lead me and she says, "No. It is right over there." Then she made me wash my own hands. ("Poor Baby!") Hands me a nail brush and says, "Scrub your nails top and bottom. Be sure to get all the product off because it doesn't always wash off that easily. I'll meet you back at my station." (I am by no means a prima donna, but if my Honey and I wanted me to scrub my own nails, I could have saved him a butt load of money and done it at home.)

When I come to sit down again, she won't look me in the eye and starts talking to the nail tech seated behind me. When that girl wandered off, she starts talking to me about how stressed out she is because her family is moving, and she thinks she has a fever and her sinuses are running. To which I (ever the sympathetic woman) reply, "Oh. I thought there was something wrong with you."

I know. I suck. I go to these places and expect to be treated by everybody as if they are conscious that the cost of these packages is dear. Okay! So I want to be treated like some celebrity . . . Gwen Stephani . . . or somebody. I know the folks that slave over my nails (and believe me, my toes need work) do this all day, every day without a break (even when they are sick as dogs) and get no thanks. (They just get blogged about by some snarky, anonymous blogger, with some sort of diva complex.)

And I don't want my Honey to get the idea that I did not appreciate his gift. I just wanted him to get his money's worth. That's all. But overall, I really enjoyed my time.

I go back in two weeks to complete my package and get my make-up redone. Won't that be fun?

For My BFF. She Knows Why.

noreply@blogger.com (Some Feisty Chick) — Sat, 24 Nov 2007 01:38:00 +0000

And for anybody who feels a little tired and crazy after shopping today.