Monday, January 19, 2009

Mr. Jack Goes to Washington.

Yeah, hi.....so. My eldest son left for D.C. Saturday morning. He was well prepared and I was still terrified.

Guess what? I was right to be terrified. He got to Washington Dulles, and walked off and left his bag on the airplane. The PILOT of the plane called us to tell us he had found it and he would put it at the correct baggage area. Oh.my.GOD. So, I am trying to call Jack, and his phone is off. We are calling the PYIC (Presidential Youth Inaugural Conference) people on our other phone, and after waiting FOREVER for someone to answer, they tell us that they have our son on a shuttle to his hotel. Hmmmm...strange. I am talking to my son on his phone and MY son is wandering around Dulles airport baggage claim aimlessly. There is nobody at the baggage claim we were told to use. Why? Well, because they changed it from baggage claim #2 to baggage claim #10. I was trying to direct Jack over the phone on how to find someone...he was walking up to people he thought were dressed like him and asking, "Uh, hey...are you with that White House thing?" What? WHITE HOUSE THING? Oh dear lord.
Well, finally, we got him hooked up with an employee of the PYIC. She filed a baggage claim with United airlines. She got him on his shuttle. She assured me they would get him some toiletries and pajamas and take him to buy clothes for Sunday. Great...I spent a ton of money on a tux, suit, ties, etc. and he won't have it. But I knew where he was. Good. So, I wait awhile, we felt relatively calm. Then, as it got later and later I began to worry. Jack was supposed to call me from his hotel room. I got a text message at about midnight our time, 1am Washington time telling me he was on a bus and had not eaten yet. So, he had no eaten in over 24 hours. He is 16. I'm surprised he wasn't eating the seat upholstery by that time. To top it off, his phone was going dead. Battery was running low. We lost touch with him. So, we call his hotel, where we are told that yes, he is there eating pizza. Great. Let us talk to him, please. Uhhhh....well...all the buses have arrived and the kids are eating pizza. Great. Put my son on the line, please. Half an hour of going back and forth like this, my son's bus DOES arrive and he is put on the phone. I forced him to get me a PYIC rep on the phone and I filled her ear and she also promised me things. I instructed Jack to eat all he could and call me when he was in his room. He called me about 2 hours later. About 3am Washington time. They had to be up and dressed and ready to go the next day at 5:30.
He did attend the opening celebration. Sort of. He was allowed to leave the group at the Lincoln Memorial and go do his own thing. His thing is Paleontology. He went to the Smithsonian Natural History Museum. He has been there before...it's PALEONTOLOGY...it's not changing! Anyhow, he "heard some music or something", and wandered outside. He was somehow behind where the stage was. He was standing there when a bunch "of cop cars and motorcycle cops drove by..then an SUV with guys hanging out the windows with guns....well, their guns weren't PULLED, but they had guns...then I saw Obama get out of his car. So. yeah. Pretty cool." WHAT? WHAT???? How the hell did he get back there and stay back there? Good God Almighty! Somehow, he then met back up with his group, (After walking to the Washington Monument to look down at the Lincoln Memorial and the crowd...he said it was amazing), and they went to hear Colin Powell speak. My said, "hey, I got a picture of Colin Powell." I got excited. Finally! Something we wanted to happen! Then he paused and said, "Well, it's Colin Powell on the Jumbotron.." what? I paid how much for this, again? I said, "Did you hear Desmond Tutu's speech?" he said, "Um, there was another guy, so yeah...I think so. We were kind of far from the podium.." Great. We were told they would have "round table" "question and answer" times with Colin Powell and Al Gore. Not a political Woodstock. Instead of full meals, they've been given boxed breakfast and lunches on the buses. The restaurant at which they eat supper is 2 hours away from their hotels. Smart planning. I know of at least ONE child who had a diabetic episode and got no help and had it not been for her sister and a hotel employee, God only knows what would have happened. I know of several kids who were supposed to have Kosher meals, and have not. Today, I am not sure what they are doing, but I am terrified about tomorrow and even more scared to have him attempt to navigate his way home. Pray for Mr. Jack. He is really a pretty awesome kid.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

I'm Offended

Hey, so yeah. I have something to complain about. I don't care if people want to hear it or not.

Here goes: that commercial for the drug that guys can take for "erectile dysfunction" with the smiling dude? It's gross. Nasty. Wretched. The commercial has the guy smiling like an idiot and all of these people are standing around admiring him. Like while he plays golf, they all stand around and the men stare with envy at this highly unattractive man who has abnormally large teeth while he waves like Queen Elizabeth at everyone. There are women who look like June Cleaver hanging around looking at the smiling guy with a look that in some advertising guy's mind shows intense desire and you know...whatever it is men think women think about or do when they are aroused.

Anyhow, the fact that there is medicine for this particular "condition" is astonishing to me. Now, I'm not bragging or anything, but personally....I have NEVER met a man who could not bring his little friend out to play. EVER. Is there that great a need for this stuff? For the love of God. I mean, I've "known" a few men. You know, biblically or whatever. Carnally. Carnivally? I don't know, I've had several husbands, or you know, a few. A FEW, okay? So, I sort of feel like I'm a...well...not an AUTHORITY, because that sounds whorish and a bit not nice. But, let's say ...no. Nevermind. Anyhow...back to the commercial. How did I get onto the subject of my personal nether region history? Good lord.

So, the Christmas version of the commercial was on for awhile. I guess even limp willies get the Christmas spirit and want commercials to help keep up the festive mood or something. So, during the Christmas version, they show the smiley guy like at an office Christmas party. He is dressed up like Santa Claus (OFFENSIVE RIGHT THERE. SANTA ISN'T CONCERNED WITH ERECTILE HEALTH. SHAME ON YOU FOR PUTTING SANTA INTO THAT SITUATION.) and there is a line of women waiting to sit on his lap. Okay, so the even more gross part is that they filled this commercial with phallic references. First, there is a sign next to the smiley aroused Santa that says NORTH POLE. Seriously? Make the word "pole" larger than the word "north"? Then, the announcer calls Santa, "This CHUBBY Santa". Come ON. I don't even remember all of the references. I just remember that one day it was on, and they were all completely blatant. Gross. Just gross.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I don't really feel better about it.

I don't even feel like doing a beauty product review right now. Here is one thing I'll say: Bliss' "The Youth As We Know It" moisturizer is HORRIFYINGLY over priced. I'll pay for good stuff, but the jar size leads you to think there is way more product than there actually is. It smells nice and the texture is creamy and absorbs nicely, but I will not pay that much for that particular product again. The toner coupled with the moisturizer does some weird thing to my skin. It creates small lumps of what I assume to be moisturizer bonding with the toner and making a solid. I don't need that. That's not desirable. I like the smell of the products. They aren't "perfumey" at all. They are fresh and have a grapefruit undertone to them. I've discovered I love the smell of grapefruit. Who knew? So, small, short review of something I regret buying. I'm not really happy with several of Bliss' products. Even their spa services left quite a bit to be desired in my opinion. I probably won't be trying my luck with anymore of their products. You can get information and purchase their products here: Bliss Spa.


Something I really really like: Dane Cook. I just laughed so hard I thought I'd pass out from lack of oxygen. He's a bit on the hot side, as well. Just a smidge to the left of" jump on him like a spider monkey" hot. He's more of the "hey, I never noticed that he is pretty hot. He's smart and funny, too. Wow, I am now of the opinion that he is hot." It's one of those things that has to grow. He doesn't knock you over right away with hotness.

Someone who is completely "jump on him like a spider monkey" hot is Josh Bernstein. If you have never seen him, do yourself a favor and go feast your eyes. He is made for me, I'm convinced. Yes, Yes, I know I'm married. Yes, yes, I love my husband. But holy crap...Josh Bernstein. I would end up in jail if I ever came face to face with him. I would become a sexual predator immediately. Josh would be my prey. Wow. That's sick. I don't care. Embrace the truth, people.

Let's see, next time I think I'll do a Top Ten. "A Top Ten of what?" you ask? Well, you'll just have to wait and see. Because I don't think that far ahead.

To summarize: Male "enhancement" drug commercials are revolting and vomit inducing. Bliss products leave much to be desired and are very expensive. Dane Cook is one funny mofo, and he is almost incredibly hot. Josh Bernstein IS incredibly hot and really, I don't see how he can be real.

Countdown until Jack goes to the Presidential Inauguration: 6 days

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Go Gators! (and Clarisonic review...)










It's awesome, I know. My Grandpa Gator is smiling down from Heaven. Again.



Now on to my Clarisonic review. Firstly, the important details: This product is made by the same company that makes the Sonicare toothbrush. The company claims to use "sonic technology" to cleanse your skin by removing makeup and other gunk. It is programmed to run for 60 seconds and that is supposed to be how long it takes to clean your face cleaner than it's ever been. I had seen other reviews of this gadget and was curious about it. I am a sucker for anything remotely related to beauty. I felt guilty(oddly enough) purchasing something this expensive for myself. The Clarisonic facial brush runs around $200. I just couldn't see replacing all the other things I buy at Sephora for that one thing. I will spend that much at Sephora, but I like to get a bunch of stuff! Anyhow, I sent a link to the thing to my husband who is clueless about gift giving. He's a wonderful person. He's an intelligent person. He SUCKS at gift giving. I've finally accepted this and so I either buy myself gifts or take him directly to the thing I want, point to it and say, "Buy that." OH! I did the same thing with the WiiFit. I will have to review that little piece of Heaven some other time. Back to the brush.

What a surprise! I got the Clarisonic for Christmas! Yay! It was even WRAPPED in wrapping paper! I eagerly plugged it in to charge and plastered myself with copious amounts of makeup so that I'd have a good and grody face to scrub in the evening. That evening, I used it for the first time. It comes with the brush head for sensitive skin. There are 3 different brush heads you can buy. I don't think I'd want anything more rough than the sensitive brush, though. My skin is pretty sensitive and will turn red at the least little thing. I used my own DHC facial soap and swirled the brush around on that, then pressed the button.

A three-toned beep sounded and then the brush began humming. In the literature included with the brush, they give you a rough estimate of how long you should use the brush on each "zone" of your face. First, you start with your forehead, then move to a cheek, then another cheek, then the chin, and last, the nose. The brush beeps and pauses very briefly to allow you to change facial areas. This is a feature I like. However, you have to estimate your cheeks so that you clean them both in the alotted time. It's just one time period for both cheeks. This irks me about this. Beep twice. I have two cheeks. Beep twice, for God's sake. How hard would that be? Don't make me freakin' COUNT while I'm enjoying scrubbing out my pores! If I pay this much for a facial brush, and it BEEPS for other areas, then it can at least beep two times for my cheeks. Petty, I know. Oh well.

Of course, you can always press the power button after the brush automatically shuts itself off and have another go at your face if you like. I do like. I do it every time I use the brush. I have decided to let go of the anxiety of counting so I get my whole face scrubbed and I just scrub until I think I should move on. If I run out of time, I press the button and go some more and continue to ignore the beeps. Now, there is an explicit warning against this practice in the manual that comes with the brush. One may OVER brush their face and end up with scabby nastiness instead of dewy glowiness. I have yet to over scrub, though.

I honestly think about this stupid brush during the day and can't wait to get home to use it. I use it in the morning and in the evening. It is supposed to eventually shrink your pore size, and help to minimize fine lines. The company claims that it removes up to 6 times as much makeup as other cleaning methods. That grossed me out. I don't want anything left on my face after I wash it. Another perk of using this wonder of scientific beauty implements is that the company claims use of this brush can assist your skin in better absorption of all of those expensive facial serums and creams that you buy to fend off the steady march of time on your face. Sounds good to me. Does it do that? I don't know. I've been using it for about 2 weeks now, and I love it. I use it in the shower in the morning because the sweet little precious thing is waterproof! I use it at the sink in the evening. I have glorious skin. It's positively radiant. At least, I like to think so.

I wholeheartedly recommend this product. I wish I had had access to it when I was younger. It simply cleans deeply and thoroughly. When I take a cotton ball and toner and go over my face after using the brush, there is nothing on the cotton ball afterwards. With other methods of cleaning, I will still have remnants of makeup or oil or some disgusting thing on the cotton ball. Who wants to go to bed with that unidentifiable crap on their face? Not me. I know that when I put on my myriad anti-wrinkle potions that there is nothing between the product and my skin.

When looking in my gigantic bazillion X magnifying mirror, I can see my clean little pores. No gunk in them. No desperately applied concealer left in the small creases near my eyes. Just clean, smooth skin. With way too many lines on it. And what is that mole? Was that there before? Oh God, what is the thing you're supposed to look for in skin cancer? Moles that change size? Moles that weren't there before? Wait. Maybe it's a freckle. I get freckles. Not as many now as I did as a kid, but I do get them. Maybe it's a freckle. I'll try to scrub it off with my brush.

The Clarisonic Skincare Brush is available through Sephora.com; Ulta; Be Beautiful; and other retailers. The price is approximately $200. It is available in pink, graphite gray and white. Replacement brush heads will run you about $25 and you will need to replace your brush head every couple of months.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

How fast they grow....

So, I have two boys. They are my heart and soul. They are also my sweat and tears. Tonight, a ruckus erupted in the back part of the house where we keep the children when we are not allowing them in public.

My youngest came running up the hallway hollering that his brother was going to "kill me with a hammer!" Really? Kill you? With a hammer? Wow. So, of course, right on his heels was his brother hollering that he did NOT say he was going to kill him with a hammer. In fact, what hammer was he referring to? How silly the whole thing was! Haha!

Then, the youngest caught sight of me and then he turned on his tears. He is able to make his entire face beet red and have huge glistening teardrops trembling on his eyelashes in a matter of seconds. I really don't know how he does it. It's a gift.

So, when the youngest boy began his soggy explanation to me, the oldest one started sort of smirking. Well, not really smirking. That sounds so negative. But yeah, he was smirking. I asked what was so funny, and the whole story began to come out.

The two have spent every waking moment and most sleeping moments in the same room with their various video game systems and laptops. Eventually, as you may guess, this must get old. The room they've been both occupying is the eldest son's room. The eldest son will be dead asleep during the day (he is 16 and doesn't seem to have his days and nights straight YET.), and the youngest boy will be in his room playing games. Loudly. He has some game where he wears a headset and microphone and converses with the other game players. Loudly. He's a loud talker. Even when he's trying to be quiet, he's a loud talker. He's always been loud.

So, tonight it came to a head. Youngest was loudly laughing and babbling nonsense with his friends on the headset thingie, and the eldest son all of a sudden desired some "alone" time. He wanted his room to himself. Totally understandable. Here is where it gets confusing. Either the oldest son did or he most certainly DID NOT tell his younger brother to leave his room. Get that straight right off the bat. Of course, happy-go-lucky younger child is too busy laughing and carrying on to listen to that. So, oldest brother again either does or does not ask/tell his brother to A. Get out of his room, or B. Leave or he will kill him. I'm still not sure which.

This got no more of a response than the first volley got, so oldest child did the following: or did not do the following: he rummaged under a pile of clothes; (yes, clean, and yes he has a closet.) and pulled out......A HAMMER! *you may gasp in horror at this*. He then either did or did not brandish said hammer at the younger child and A. Threaten him; or B. Comment on the handiness of hand tools. So, younger son informs older son that he better NOT threaten HIM!
At which point, older son decides he needs to use the facilities, and he begins to leave his room. At which point, he says, "I'm not taking any chances!" and he retrieves the hammer he had set down. I have no idea what "I'm not taking any chances!" means in this instance, but it is claimed that he did, indeed, say that. He then proceeded to go do whatever it is they do in the bathroom.

During this interval, the terrified, victimized younger child remained in his brother's room where he knew he was not wanted and continued to play his game. He was TERROR STRICKEN, I tell you. Older boy comes back. He notices that his brother has not left his room, but in fact, remains in his room hollering into the headset. Whilst holding the hammer, the older boy may or may not have( but probably did) make it understood to his brother that if he did not leave immediately, he would begin practicing his wood shop skills on his head. Younger son jumps up, throws open the door and runs screaming down the hall, which is where we came into this story.

We soundly chastise older son for having a hammer, (he THOUGHT about denying that he had one..but thought better.) and we all realized it was left in his room from some earlier repair or some guy thing they had all done involving Sears and Lowe's and Home Depot. He surrendered the hammer to us. He was told to come to us if his brother won't leave him alone. Meanwhile, the traumatized younger child is shivering and shaking in our bedroom waiting for me. I enter and immediately tell him I don't want to listen to the drama. He wails, "You are taking HIS side! You are going to ground me and he'll get away with it!!!!" and he throws himself on my bed and proceeds to get it wet with his huge sloppy tears.

People, I'm tired. I hate drama. I love solitude. I love quiet. I love my kids. I hate drama. So, I have to have a long talk with younger son about blowing things out of proportion and knowing when to leave gracefully. It took awhile, but he is now in his room where he was sent, looking over his Math packet which he was supposed to be studying in preparation for his 9 week exams this coming week. Older son is in his room doing whatever it is he does. Making birdhouses or reading or something. I don't know. I am in my room where I shall remain until I must leave for work tomorrow morning.

My husband had dog crap on the bottom of his foot, which is where the phantom dog crap smell was coming from. He had no clue he had dog fecal matter on the bottom of his foot. This bothers me. I don't particularly want him to sleep in here tonight. Who the hell knows WHAT all he's tracked in?

I'm too tired to write about what I was originally going to write about. Which is a damned shame for y'all, because it was going to be FANTASTIC. I was going to review my latest most fabulous beauty item: the Clarisonic Face Brush. I'll save it for tomorrow. I know you'll be waiting anxiously.
Goodnight.