Winter sucks. It’s officially over now, I know, but I’ve found myself thinking about its long dark days now that I’ve been enjoying my comfortable outdoor freedom. I’ve been stopping to smell the flowers (magnolias and not roses yet, it’s true, but the point of the saying remains!). I read a book on my porch, about Shakespeare’s post-mortem rise to fame! Suddenly, I find myself slipping out of grumpy carbohydrate hibernation and building up plans and goals. Which got me thinking … what’s with New Year’s resolutions anyway? You make them at the coldest and unfriendliest time of the year. No sooner have you resolved to run a mile then the skies dump a blizzard on you — so back inside you go. I propose a revolution. A springtime resolutions revolution! Keep reading »
Truth to tell, that lipstick survey — the one that says lipstick is, well, over — has been bumming me out. I love the stuff. But this wasn’t always the case. When I was a little girl in the ’80s watching my mother slather bright pinks across her cheeks and perky blues over her lids, I hassled her. “Moo-o-o-oom,” I’d whine, “I like your face the way it is.” But she didn’t leave the house without putting her face on first. I carried my staunch anti-makeup stance almost entirely through high school, only breaking down occasionally for a little goth-inspired black eyeliner and mascara. Makeup was part of “The Man.” It was the enemy, keeping women down and stuff, by convincing them they’d never be good or pretty enough without another bottle of goopy stuff.
Then I got married. Keep reading »
Of course we all know fast food is gross. There’s the greasiness, the saturated fat, the unholy mass of calories just waiting to glom onto your thighs and live there forever and ever having little fat babies. Plus, what is that stuff even made of? We don’t know. But we do know it’s far worse than we ever imagined. Joanne Bruso, the author of Baby Bites: Transforming a Picky Eater into a Healthy Eater, has been documenting the life of a Happy Meal. She bought it last year. It’s turned one. And it is still doing fine. Look at it! It still looks the same! The french fries are as perfectly formed as the little plastic toy! That is wrong, wrong, wrong. Thinking back over the Happy Meals I happily ate as a child, I am afraid. [BoingBoing] Keep reading »
NASA is neat! With the Wide-field Infrared Survey Explorer (or WISE), they’ve captured an image they’ve likened to a “cosmic rosebud blossoming with new stars.” The red-hot glow emanates from the lusty young stars, while the green leaves are created by polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. And awesomeness. So there you have it, a rose chilling out with the galaxies. Because space is the best boyfriend ever. [The Huffington Post] Keep reading »
Two years ago I found the perfect pair of blue jeans. I love them. I love them the way I love ice cream on hot summer days or smiles from strangers. They make me feel good because they’re perfect. They’re a dark-wash that makes colored shirts pop and my thighs shrink as if by magic. None of my other jeans compare. But even though I’d like to grow old with them, I know I can’t have a monogamous relationship with my perfect pants. I need to find new ones, but shopping has been torture. Keep reading »