Putting my best face forward
I do not have an extensive skin care routine. Currently, my routine consists of face wash (lately it’s been Neutrogena but I use whatever’s on sale or strikes my fancy) and Olay moisturizer with sunscreen.
That’s it.
Seriously. That’s it. That’s been my skin care routine for as long as I could remember, with some minor modifications (I used to also use St. Ives Apricot Scrub once a week). I’m a low maintenance kind of girl, and have been blessed with pretty decent skin that didn’t required much besides a simple wash. I never really had to worry about pimples growing up and look at me…I don’t even look my age. But now that I’m a little bit older, let’s face it, I’m 30. My skin isn’t the same as it was when I was 15, let alone 25.
In recent weeks, I’ve been mulling over establishing an actual skin care routine. I need to do something other than wetting my face, especially since I want to keep looking younger than I actually am. As with most things not related to sports or eating, I had no clue where to start. Walking down the skin care aisle at Target or Bed, Bath & Beyond or Sephora causes my head to spin. I needed help.
Help finally came my way. During my visit with the boyfriend (I was there to celebrate his 30th birthday with him), we were walking around the mall after his birthday dinner and found out that Origins was having a special in-store Earth Month party where they were live-streaming a Gavin DeGraw and Vanessa Carlton concert along with free food and drinks, massages, facials and make-overs. I opted for a facial and after explaining my concerns (combination skin and sun exposure), plopped down for my facial.
The sales associate who gave me my facial pulled out an arsenal of bottles and jars, about 7 or 8 in total, and began to talk her way through the routine. Granted, it was a lot more extensive than my usual routine (but really, what isn’t?) and I was taken aback by the sheer amount of work. There were a lot of steps and it was hard to remain undaunted by the time I would need to devote to this routine. In the end, I really enjoyed how my skin felt; it was really soft, smooth and reminded me of a baby’s skin. I couldn’t stop touching it, which kind of defeats the purpose of a facial because you’re wiping your greasy, grimy fingers over your just cleaned face. It was also a lot brighter and not as oily as it usually is, and even the boyfriend noticed the difference. My skin was still soft the next day and I was really sad about having to wash my face with my regular stuff.
Here’s what she used:
[Source: Origins]
I’m now thinking of making the investment and start using Origins. I liked the way the products smelled and the effects were undeniable. I will admit that the price of the products is causing some hesitation. It’s a lot of money to drop at one go (I priced the entire collection at $250!) so I’m trying to decide if I want to go all in or if I want to pick and choose the basics and slowly add in the extras. Sure, I can stick with my current routine out of convenience and cheapness but I’m getting sub-par results and it’s hard to keep that routine when I see the results I could be getting and want. Looks like my wallet is about to take a hit!
Does anyone else have good experiences with Origins? Or perhaps can suggest something else to try?
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Have a heart
News broke this weekend that former Vice President Dick Cheney had undergone a heart transplant and Twitter nearly went wild with people wondering if it were possible to create a rider of sorts where they could dictate who could and couldn’t receive their donated organs. As a relative of a donor transplant recipient, I thought this was callous and dangerous.
Organ transplants are hard to come by; about 19 people die everyday while waiting for a suitable match. As of this writing, there are currently 113,611 candidates on the waiting list (72,803 of which are actively waiting, meaning they have met all eligibility requirements and are ready for transplants) and 14,145 registered donors (all statistics from the Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network). Can you imagine if those 14k donors placed stipulations on who can receive their organs?
What if you had a family member who was waiting for a donor? What if it were you? And you got word that one came through except…the donor requested their organs not go to anyone who was gay. Or Black. Or Muslim. Or a woman. Or anyone who’s ever had an abortion. What if this was your last chance at regaining your life? Organ donations are, quite possibly, one of the few selfless gives we can give one another, especially knowing that most of these are given to save a complete stranger’s life. Why would you want attach such arbitrary strings to such a precious gift? Such a reckless condition helps no one.
That said, while I do not agree with the policies and actions held by Cheney, I still would not begrudge him the opportunity to have another few years with his family. Knowing what I know about the transplant process, this is not an easy time. You’re elated that a matching donor was found and you sit through several hours of surgery waiting to hear back about the results, then you wait and hope the operation was a success and the body hasn’t rejected the organ. Then you go through several months of testing and doctors’ appointments to make sure things are going well (for us, we had to live in a hotel within a couple miles of the hospital to make sure Dad had quick and easy access to the hospital for emergencies. He needed someone with him 24 hours a day!). Then you continue to hope the body won’t reject the organ for the rest of your life, downing a multitude of medicine to increase the chances of that happening. It’s tough but for another chance at life? You’re willing and able to accept the challenge.
Take a moment and consider this: strip away everything Cheney stands for and see him as a father, grandfather, husband, brother, uncle, cousin, or close friend. Now imagine his is your father, grandfather, husband, brother, uncle, cousin, or close friend and you come across online rants of people wishing he hadn’t received the transplant, how people would have actively chosen to exclude him from receiving life. How hurt would you feel?
Let’s try to remember the human side of people and not be so quick to judge someone else.
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A real life photo-bomb
A few weeks ago I had dinner with some friends. I was especially looking forward to this dinner because I had just started the new job and finally felt as if I could actually contribute to the conversation besides nodding along in agreement to most of what is being said and offering my friends’ experiences with things. I could talk about the interview, how I was nearly late for the second one and ran 3 blocks from CalTrain in a desperate attempt to make it there in time. IN HEELS! And I could talk about what I do at work! I had material and lots of it. This was going to be my moment to shine!
So imagine my utter disappointment when I showed up only to be outshone by a baby and a pregnancy announcement.
Ego. Deflated.
My moment in the sun? Gone. It seemed awkward to bring up my job so I waited for someone else to. Then I’d jump into my spiel and just as suddenly the conversation veered back to the babies.
How can I fight a baby? I can’t win that battle!
Then, towards the end of the evening, we briefly discussed my future pending wedding and while I was talking to them, I just felt silly about talking about this wedding as if it were actually happening when we don’t even know ourselves. The whole evening was a conversational disaster.
On my way home, while I wasn’t raging against the poorly lit back roads and equally poorly identified houses (seriously, this is a pet peeve of mine. I hate it when I can’t see building address numbers clearly from the street and have to act like a clairvoyant to find out which house it which. PUT IN SOME STREET LIGHTS AND NUMBERS ON THE GARAGE! Ahem.) I couldn’t help but think about how behind I still am compared to this group of friends and wonder if I would ever catch up. Or if there would always be something else diverting the attention from me. I know I told myself that I really needed to stop measuring myself against everyone else and I’m aware of the fact that I sound completely self-centered for being upset about not being the center of attention for a moment but I all I wanted to do was share my amazing news and get the attention I always give to other people during their moment.
Basically, I feel shafted. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but feel justified. After two years of not having much to discuss and feeling pretty lousy because of it, this little tidbit of progress was finally my chance to bring something to the table of some worth, to share with friends and have people be excited as I have been for them. And it totally did not work out like that.
I will say that, during the dinner, we did have a couple of smaller, side conversations where I got to jabber on about my new job and I really appreciate that chance. I guess I’ll just have to remember that no one ever really cares about anything that happens in your life more than you.
Duly noted.
Read MoreLove what you’re doing
It’s only been five days but I LOVE MY JOB. Is it weird to be so bold after such a short period of time? It feels weird but not really, if you know what I mean. While I just barely clocked in a full workweek, I am very happy presently. I am excited to wake up and get to work, I’m excited at work, when I’m heading out (not because it’s over, but because I had a great day – yes, it’s sickening), and I’m excited to be able to do it all over again the next day.
I’m so excited that I pick out my clothes the night before.
The first day was a little overwhelming but not in a scary “What am I doing here?” way, but more in an energizing “I can so do this!” way. Every day I learn a new aspect of my job responsibilities, which is almost like unwrapping a present every day, and I’m looking forward to the moment when I’m aware of what I’m supposed to be doing and can just get it done without direction. Sometimes, when I listen to my coworkers talk, I’m amazed at how knowledgeable they are about what we do and I’m kind of jealous that they can so easily explain things, but that’s silly because I know that with enough time, I’ll be able to speak just as soundly as they do.
And you know what? I cannot wait for that moment.
After being out of work for the past two years, I’m very grateful for this opportunity. I was just thinking on Friday how amazing God is. He provided me with the perfect job where I feel satisfied and challenged and one that I can grow into. I definitely risked it by being so picky but I have to say this was definitely worth it (even my Mom had to admit that she was glad I didn’t settle for just anything even though she was pressing me to). I work with a group of amazing people and I know that I can and will make a meaningful contribution. I’m not bored during the day (I’m actually too busy most of the time to even check my Gmail account for most of the day which is so radically different than my last job) and the time just flies by. Seriously, I get in, start my computer up, go through some emails and suddenly it’s an hour later.
What I really like is that I have a defined set of responsibilities and reports to create (I get to create my first one on my own next week. Yes, I am unapologetically excited by this) and none of it feels like “busy work.” I really like coming in every day and knowing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing. I don’t have to worry about hovering around my boss’ desk sniffing out something, anything, to do. Right now I’m still in the training phase, learning a new piece to my job everyday, but in a short time, most likely starting next week, I’ll be released on my own to assist with client work (which includes billable hours. I’ve never had billable hours before!) creating those lovely reports and doing some data analysis, campaign management, search engine optimization and managing social media profiles.
Yes, I do kind of get paid to tweet and Facebook, granted, not my personal accounts (ironically, I don’t have much time to check my own accounts), but the company’s account. I have an uncanny knack of landing in some pretty cool jobs.
Now if I could only figure out what to say for my company bio.
Read MoreAll but typical
It’s no secret that I am an avid sports fan; something that is completely lost on the bf, who doesn’t really care for sports (even my dad was perplexed by this. Seriously, he once asked me what they were supposed to talk about!). Women sports fans aren’t aberrations either; I know a lot of women who are die hard fans. There is a growing number of women who tune into the NFL regular season and the Super Bowl (last year, female viewership accounted for 46%) but it still seems that advertisers are completely clueless to who is actually watching these games.
[Source: Mashable via BlueKai]
According to this year’s Super Bowl Advertising Infographic I snagged from Mashable, it seems to advertisers that the typical Super Bowl viewer is male, golfers, owners of SUVs, in sales, into sci-fi movies, are husbands, and in the market for Kindles, Sony and Vizio brands. Let’s see, and I am exactly none of these things. And you know what? It really sucks being overlooked like this. I have money too (well, I will have money soon) but it doesn’t feel like that matters. According to the subject matter of the ads, I have no buying power (okay, I don’t at the moment but will by next month). But that the fact that I do have buying power is simply inconsequential. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ALL THIS MONEY?!
Look, I know that the majority of Super Bowl viewers are in fact male (last year they accounted for 54% but even that gap is slowly evening to an even split), but it would be so nice to have a couple of commercials that don’t use provocatively dressed women to sell beer, cars, or web services. Are women not buying cars? Or beer? Or Doritos? Or interested in fiscal independence? You know what women get?
John Stamos and yogurt. YOGURT.
Really advertisers? You think the only thing I could really care about is yogurt? And please don’t get me started on the farce that is the “New Adventures of Old Light Brown M & M.”
It’s time that brands and advertisers stop ignoring half of the population to shill their products during the biggest commercial event of the year. It’s not fair to barely be pandered to during the rest of the year, only to be systematically ignored on the largest platform known to business. I’m good enough to spend thousands of dollars on but not millions? That’s not a message you want to send to your potential customers.
I’m hopeful that, with the increased female viewership, brands and advertisers will finally wise up and begin to create commercials that appeal to both genders.
Because really, no one should be subjected to the nonsense that is GoDaddy.
Read MoreWorking Girl
I have really dropped the ball on writing about my job search escapades. Probably because there really wasn’t much that I could say. My days were filled with networking meetings, trolling job boards, employment agency boards, company boards, Craigslist, everywhere I could think of reading through job posting after job posting and I don’t think there was any way I could make that interesting to read. Can you imagine reading that post? Hey, I applied for another job today. The end.
Yeah, that would not have been good.
So I spent my days wading through job postings, stressing over making my cover letter as interesting and unique as possible, searching LinkedIn to try to find who would be receiving my application (you know, to personalize my cover letter. Yes, I’m thorough) and logging in my results on my handy dandy worksheet. I was called by an employment agency who raved about my work history and told me how they were looking for more people who had that kind of experience and right as I was about to reach the peak of my excitement, they asked if I was interested in Executive Assistant positions. My entire body deflated in a matter of seconds as I politely declined.
And here’s the thing with that. I know it seems stupid to decline an opportunity to work, especially since I was going on my second year of unemployment and was facing losing my unemployment benefits since I was exhausting them as I crept towards becoming a ‘99er.’ I really wanted to find a job but I wanted it to be the right job, something that would help jumpstart my Marketing career and honestly, an Executive Assistant type position was not going to accomplish that. I have been incredibly blessed to have the luxury to be so picky and yes, I did take advantage of my position but you know, I took a necessary risk.
Looking for work has not been the easiest thing ever. I placed a lot of pressure on myself to find a job and I broke from the stress a few times but I knew I couldn’t give up, even when I had several people telling me to just find something, anything to tide me over in the mean time. Part of me didn’t want to give in because I knew I would just stay there and be stuck in a less than ideal situation (it is not easy for me to up and quit jobs) but another part questioned whether this stubbornness was the right way to go.
Competition for work is fierce. I know for two of the jobs I applied to received over 700 applications and the other over 200 before they turned off the posting. Isn’t that crazy? I applied for 122 jobs in the past year, though it’s probably more since I didn’t consistently keep tabs until July when I was required to record my job search efforts, and out of those I only received two interviews. Demoralizing? Yeah, it kind of was, but I had to push past the overwhelming feelings of defeat and inadequacy and remember that it didn’t matter how many times I was turned down, I just needed to find that one person who’d say yes. And you know what? I found the yes!
I’m so excited about my new job. It’s the perfect job to get me started in my career and I get to learn more about Interactive/Online Marketing, which is what I really want to do. It’s the perfect situation for me, since they’ll be training me in online marketing and everything. I can really grow into this position and more. I was so serious about landing this job that when they invited me to the first interview, I spent the weekend cramming for it, reading everything I could about SEO and online marketing (many, many thanks to the bf for helping curate resources to read!) and spent another week cramming for the second interview. I hadn’t studied like that since high school.
Sidebar: Funny thing happened on the way to the second interview. There was a really bad accident on the freeway so it ended up taking an hour and a half to get to the BART station and I was cutting it really close to making it to the interview on time. I ended up running three blocks in heels to get to the office and then had to coax a janitor to let me in since I couldn’t wait for someone to buzz me in. I ended up being a couple of minutes late a little frazzled and noticeably flushed but thankfully I still got the job!
It has been such a relief to finally have a job so I can get on with life and earn a paycheck again. Everything worked out and I thank God that it has. People, I’m going back to work!
And I already know what I’m wearing the first day.
Yeah, I’m a little eager.
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Where we say goodbye to Schmidty, part 2
Not to worry, I totally did not forget that I left you hanging about my surgery to forcibly evict Schmidity from his resting place in my breast. In case you don’t feel like clicking that link, in our last episode, I prepped for surgery by worrying about what I was supposed to wear and bring the day of and trying to eat as much as I possibly could the night before so I wouldn’t wake up hungry. Key takeaways: comfy clothes and Gremlins.
Anywho, the day of the operation went on without a hitch. Basically it’s a lot of “hurry up and wait.” I showed up with my mom to the surgery clinic in the morning, signed in, and waited to be called to register and get my ID bracelet. Then I waited some more before being escorted to the pre-op staging area by the nicest hospital volunteer ever. He was a Korean War vet and noticed that my listed ethnicity was ‘Korean’ (I totally saw him reading my form) and when he called me up, he started practicing the Korean phrases he learned on my mom. And he was pretty good! Great, another non-Korean person who speaks Korean better than me. We both had a good laugh and he shared a few more stories while we made our way to the holding area. He showed me to my bed and left me to myself business as I completely undressed (so much for wearing my good pair of panties, right? I know I’m not the only one who makes sure to wear her good panties at doctor’s appointments) and put on the hospital gown where your naked butt hangs out if you don’t hold it correctly. I had to take another pregnancy test, which was interesting because, remember, I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink after midnight because of the gremlin thing. Okay, it’s because of the anesthesia thing but whatever. Gremlin sounds more fun.
So I waited some more. While I waited, the nurses began to prep me for surgery, attaching several monitoring things on my body and finger, wrapped my legs with some weird pressure cuff, and inserted the IV needle in preparation for the anesthesia. For a moment my mind drifted to my Dad and how he was always hooked up to machines and wondered what he felt as they prepped him for his transplant when I was distracted by Santa Claus. I kid you not. I heard the Korean Vet say something about Santa and another hospital volunteer walked by and I thought, how cute, they nicknamed him Santa because he as a beard. That’s when I saw Santa round the corner. In full gear. I nearly died from the absurdity.
There’s really nothing to do but sit and listen to what’s going on, so I eavesdropped on the conversations happening around my bed. A few beds down, I heard a surgeon talking to a patient about his surgery and I thought he sounded an awful lot like Greg Proops. It wasn’t until my surgeon popped into my area to check up on me that I realized Greg Proops WAS my surgeon! I had been trying to place his voice since we met and I’m glad I didn’t figure it out until then and this made me glad I would be out for the surgery because otherwise I might have trouble taking him seriously.
I got word that the previous surgery was being cancelled and mine would be moved up and there was suddenly a flurry of activity at my bed. I was introduced to my “surgical team:” the RNs and my anesthesiologist (who I made jokes with about wanting to simply wake up at the end), and was prepped for the IV and then waited with my mom, who was called back by then, to get marked up by my surgeon. Then before I knew it, the anesthesiologist injected the sedative into my IV and I was pushed down the hall.
Then this happened:
There may or may not have been dancing fairies and a maypole.
The sedative worked quickly. I’m not sure how far I made it, I know I looked back at my mom as I was wheeled down the hall and I think I remember seeing some kind of operating room but I honestly can’t tell if I actually made it there or if I was remembering the clip from Brenda’s surgery on 90210. Either way, I woke up in recovery with an ice pack on my chest and a nurse checking my vitals, mumbling instructions. Then my surgeon came in and said something about something (I don’t know why they are so intent on talking to you while you’re waking up from the anesthesia). Then I was wheeled in the last waiting room to make sure everything was kosher before getting the all clear to change and head home.
Thankfully I wasn’t in too much pain following the surgery, nothing a little ice and Vicodin couldn’t fix and I was more excited that I was able to start weening myself off the pain meds the following Wednesday. I was determined to be better since I had a date that Friday with one of my college roommates to tour Alcatraz.
Yeah, I scheduled an outing the week of surgery. I’m that girl.
But in all, I’m glad I did finally opt for surgical removal. It feels good that I don’t have to worry about Schmidty (and the scar I have isn’t so bad!) anymore and I’m believing in God that there won’t be any juniors running around either.
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