Cool Site of the Week: ELF Makeup

Ok so I have heard out there (thanks Jen!) that ELF (Eyes Lips Face) makeup is being bought out by Neiman Marcus and will be rebranded as their own in-house line. I haven't verified if that is true, but what IS true is that right now EVERYTHING at the ELF website is $1!! ONE DOLLAR. One buck. One one one. Almost too good to be true. Go stock up and then wait in glee for your happy package of cheap joy to arrive at your house!!!

Hurry Hurry before all the good stuff sells out!!!!!


www.eyeslipsface.com

Dude Looks Like A Lady: The Sequel

Ok, for those of you who emailed and wanted to see proof that my little munchkin had gone from girl, to glamour girl, to dude ... here you are:

Before (note the looong bangs swept back into a bow):


During... (cute, right?)


Today .... (not as cute, huh?)


(sigh).

Peculiar Polish

Being the refined young lady that I am (no choking please) I try to keep my nails looking well manicured. I have a weird and strong aversion to chipped nail polish. For the most part I've found that means leaving my nails unpainted - its just easier for all involved. But lately with Spring in the air (sorta) I've been on a polish bender. And since I found some organic polishes all the better.

I've used these polishes many times in the past few weeks and have been in love love love. They are long lasting, shiny and come in a bazillion colors. So last night I decided remove my revved up red that was starting to chip and chose a lovely Spring shade of Coral as its replacement. I painted my nails around 8:30pm and watched the rest of American Idol. I went to bed around 10:30pm and all was well. In fact I was flaunting my shiny new digit toppers to my hubby.

This morning I woke up and as soon as I hit the shower I knew something was amiss. No, not sheet imprints, finger smears or gashes in the new polish ... something much more sinister (or so I like to believe - because its dramatic). The polish on the beds of my nails had darkened while the polish on the tips had stayed true coral. At first I thought it was just the light of the shower shining under my nails. No such luck. I got out and put them up against the counter. Same dealio. I put them up against a towel. Same dealio. I put them up against our white dining room table. Same dealio. You get the idea. It looked like I had painted coral over a french manicure - except I hadn't. I had some weird ghetto fabulous french manicure. Except I hated it. Ick.

I had no time this morning to remove it so I've had to deal with it allll day. Its just weird. I've never seen this happen before. I don't know if its something in the polish, my chemistry, or I did something wrong while painting but me no likey. Peep it for yourself (it's much more distinct IRL) and discover the mystery!

Dude Looks Like A Lady

Coco got her first haircut this weekend. It was traumatic for her during, and traumatic for us after. Basically because she now looks like a boy. For reals.

We went to a specialty shop just for kids. They offer the first haircut in a special little chair shaped like a little car, they play cartoons and have plenty of books and toys to distract and if the little ones are good enough (which of course they always are) they get to grab something from the toy drawer when they are finished. This would all be well and good if Coco were more than 11 months old. As it stood she had no idea what was going on in this noisy colorful place, nor why some grey-haired old man was messing with her head while Mommy and Daddy stood by yelling encouragement over the blaring TV.

The man, Patrick, who has been doing this since God was a boy I’d imagine, was a pro – I will give him that. He was quick, kind and good at what he does. But he didn’t spend a lot of time consulting us about what we wanted to do. The main goal was to get Cora’s bangs out of her face. We were having to clip her bangs back with a barrette all the time which would inevitably fall out ... multiple times a day. If we didn’t clip them back however, she would swipe at her eyes trying to get the hair away, which if she did so while trying to crawl would most always result in her “going poof” (I refuse to say “boom” – its just too creepy to me to say your kid went “boom”).

The other weird thing about the whole process was that after the cut, he blew her hair dry with a dryer (confusing her to pieces) and then took a small-barrelled professional curling iron and curled her wispy hair. As if that wasn’t weird enough, he then finished with a fine misting of hair spray. I was having horror visions of Jon Benet Ramsey at that point and neuroticising over what chemicals were in the hairspray, but of course, it did look cute with her chubby little apple cheeks. Or at least it looked cute until bathtime. Once we got home that evening and gave her a bath, we realized that while the thick curls were adorable, our child has stick straight hair. We went from Shirley Temple to Moe of the Three Stooges. She basically had a horrible baby bowl cut. Hubby and I both looked at each other and said “Ummm… she looks like a boy.” And indeed she did.

It will grow – that is what we, and everyone else, keep telling ourselves. But its hard to see our little girl look suddenly blasé and oddly plain. Its as if she was a little female baby Sampson. Of course she couldn’t care less and is much happier I’m sure not having to swipe at her bangs or get whacked in the forehead with a dangling barrette. So for the most part, Mommy and Daddy will build a bridge and get over it. But I can tell you she’s wearing a LOT more pink these days…..

Blaze of Glory

Last weekend hubby and I went to the Bon Jovi/Daughtry concert for our anniversary. Bon Jovi for me, Daughtry for him (one place the 5 year age diff shows its face). We knew it would be a long day since Coco was getting baptised that morning but we figured we'd make it work (even thought it sucks to have a concert on a Sunday). We also had the added bonus of getting to attend the "VIP Preshow Party" which was catered with a full bar and a "show related gift" since the company I work for has connections at the venue.

Let me skip to the end for you and then backtrack: Preshow "party" sucked, gift sucked, Concert sucked (at least the BJ part - Daughtry wasn't bad), and we left at 9:45pm to go home for the night. Now... let me begin....

First we get to the preshow party. In my head I had imagined an intimate gourmet gathering with maybe 50 people lucky enough to have gotten in on the deal. I mean, we paid over $300 for the two of us to attend this party and get seats so I assumed the party and the seats would be swanky! Instead, we ended up in a concrete-walled conference room eating frozen-fried appetizers (wings, spring rolls, something that looked like jalapeno poppers, etc) and drinking cheap beer and even cheaper wine. All this with about 400 of our closest friends. I have never seen so much bad hair, acid washed denim, and black spandex in my life. Not even in the 90s. And the exciting "gift" - a metal Bon Jovi tour poster made to resemble a speed limit sign. A tin poster. Yay.

Soooo we ditch that about 45 mins early to go find our seats. They should be great seats at over $100/ticket right? Wrong. We were in the very last row (up against the back wall) of the first side/sloped section (is that parquet or something)? Granted we weren't up in the upper nosebleeds, but for the price and hype I expected more.

But the thing that pushed us over the edge (or in our case to the parking lot before BJovi had even gotten through 6 songs) was the company. Right next to us was something I hope to never witness again. There were three couples - all in their late 30s, early 40s. The men were all drunk and the women were drunker. Apparently they didn't get enough Bon Jovi when they were young enough to appreciate it and so they were reveling in this moment. And they were pissed as hell at me for not joining in the festivities (I was standing, watching the show without spraying my seatmates with either beer or spittle - shame on me). Constantly throughout the evening they would nudge each other and point at me, or try and get my attention or yell incomprehensible things my way (that is when they weren't leaning on each other, almost falling over, or yelling "Play Lay Your Hands On Me!!!" at the top of their lungs for the 7000th time). I just stood and looked at these women with their $80 Posh Beckham haircuts, Silpada necklaces, diamonds the size of dinner plates, Don Pliner boots, and Dana Buchman animal print tops (woooo edgy) acting like complete drunken 17 year olds away from home for the first time. It was one of the most annoying and yet depressing things I've ever seen. I sincerely hope I never hit that low.

I remember Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane being asked if she ever planned a reunion tour. She responded something to the tune of "I just think old people look silly on a rock and roll stage". And apparently, in certain circumstances, that translates equally well to its audience.