Let’s talk about skin care.

I know I’ve blogged about it a little bit before.  I am a creature of habit, and I have been diligently washing and moisturizing my face twice a day since the tender age of 12.  I was so devoted to it, I would wash and moisturize even when black out drunk in college.  That’s heart.

I am genetically blessed with pretty decent skin (and pretty dark circles under my eyes).  And for a long time, I didn’t think much about changing up my routine.  I used a cleanser with salactic acid (blemishes, yech) and a collagen elastin moisturizer from St. Ives that I still think is pretty awesome.  I used a deep cream cleanser in the shower and every once in a while, an apricot scrub.  I bought all my products at Wal-Mart, or Target or Walgreens.

But here’s the thing about hitting 36 and noticing that your skin is drying out and that your dark circles are starting to look like bruises ~ it necessitates re-examining your skin care routine.

I’d tried some products years ago (when money was less tight) called Lumene (available at CVS and from Finland, I believe).  Lumene has a couple different regimens for different ages.  I used their Vitamin C moisturizers, and loved them.  So, armed with the knowledge that I needed to take better care of my skin, I stocked up on day cream, night cream, eye serum and toner back in January.  And I absolutely noticed a difference in the upgrade. Less dry skin, to start. My skin looked less dull, too.  Huge plus.   I wasn’t wild about the eye serum, so I trekked back out and bought myself an absurdly tiny and absurdly expensive (for me) little jar from Olay.  I was feeling kinda happy with the changes.

And then John’s cousin pitched me on Rodan + Fields.

Having already made changes that I felt happy with (and that didn’t bankrupt me) I wavered on whether or not to try this online phenomenon.  But – mostly because I’m a sucker for products – I went ahead and jumped off the cliff.  I ordered a regimen and a couple supplemental products (eye cream and night moisturizer).  Everything arrived last week in adorable packaging, with specific instructions on how to ease into these new products.

I – being super stubborn and a know-it-all — studiously ignored the idea of ‘easing in.’

The first couple days I was less than impressed ~ trying to figure out in my head what made these wildly expensive products better than my CVS brands.  But I’d spent the money and I was determined to give it a chance.  So I kept going.  I started doing more reading about natural facial cleansers (oil-cleansing, for example).  Because none of R + F’s products foam.  Not actually a bad thing, but definitely an adjustment.

R + F have 4 regimens, and I am on the Reverse one (I guess all my previous care and only being 36 didn’t score a different result ~ have to proactively prevent against aging).

I’m still not 100% on the bandwagon.  The cleansing scrub is pretty awesome.  And the Vitamin C + Retinol step is my favorite.  I am begrudgingly acknowledging that my skin looks good.  Not insanely different than it looked before.  But not bad.  I like the idea that I’m taking care of myself (within days of getting R + F I also got a new Sonicare toothbrush and if that isn’t decadent, I don’t know what is!).  I have begun to wonder if my reticense to give it credit stems more from the cult-like culture of R + F and less from the efficacy of their products.

Either way, I’m a week into my new journey.  I’m being much more skeptical than necessary.  But I’ll let you know how things are going in another couple weeks.

Till then, don’t just use bar soap ~ that’s what my husband uses, and I think Kate nearly fainted when she heard that.  😉

This one time, at band camp —

Whenever I have a thought that begins “remember that one time…” I immediately think of the immortal words from American Pie.  Which usually makes me laugh, remember high school and completely forget about the original thought.

Today, John Mayer’s “Comfortable” popped on Pandora.  It is my ultimate favorite John Mayer song.  My roommate from my last year in college gave me a burned CD of John Mayer songs — one of which was “Comfortable”.  My parents had just moved to their newest house and I played that CD the entire drive back to Penn State after a weekend at home.  Which ended up taking a long time, because I got a little lost in Amish country.

And when the music begins, the mournful, nostalgic guitar — every time, to this very day — I think of driving through Amish country, the sun a cool white in the late days of winter, just on the cusp of the world coming alive again.  I think of my little Honda Civic named Beau.  I think of finally finding Starbucks and knowing where I was.  I think of how long ago it was, before all the darkness and sadness and confusion of my twenties.  I think of the poignancy of the lyrics, and that instead of truly understanding them, I merely yearned for the feeling the music evoked.

The wonderful simplicity of those lyrics — my mental images of grocery shopping and gray sweatpants, and swearing like a sailor ….  I’d never known any of those things with another person the way I ached to.

Anyway, life takes us so many places, both physically and mentally.  Sitting in my office in the last days of February, for just a moment I was faraway, in a time long gone.  The power of music is eery and crazy like that.

I’ve been mildly obnoxious lately. Floating on the high that follows the lowest of lows. When you climb from the dark and everything seems beautiful and miraculous and better than it ever seemed before. And emboldened by this new outlook, this new perspective, a swagger emerges. A completely unnecessary and ridiculous swagger. And yet – essential to getting on with life after a devastating blow.

I drove to the train station, feeling fine, happy with my newly done hair, my outfit choice for the day. Feeling motivated and organized for what is usually my busiest day of the week.

And I promptly fell in amazing glory the minute I stepped out of my car.

Not a stumble or a trip. And complete wipe out.

And I knew that God – or whatever force shapes the minutiae of our days – was not-so-subtley bringing me back to Earth. Now, as the train slogs down the track – an estimated 20 minutes late for our arrival in Center City, my butt aches, my hands burn and the only thing I can do is laugh and nod and admit that yes, I needed that.

It’s absolutely bananas that it’s February already. Bananas.

To celebrate the second month of the year I met up with two of my favorite women for dinner. It served two purposes – seeing my friends but also, I dragged them to my company’s newest restaurant to check out the food. (They’ve both been but luckily, they were up for a re-visit!).

It’s funny, because we saw each other in December and so much has changed in such a short time that it feels like eons since we last were together. Life is wild like that. Seriously.

I was in a state yesterday – puffed up and frustrated and indignant.

How often we diminish ourselves – how often we roll out the red carpet for others to treat us poorly. Tonight at dinner, Kate exhibited the most confidence I’ve seen her espouse in years. Erin and I had to pick our jaws up off the floor. And then we all began to laugh and Erin and I declared with enthusiasm our love and appreciation for this new Kate. It was glorious. Because this Kate that she was finally seeing and endorsing – that’s the Kate Erin and I have always seen, always believed in.

That’s true friendship.

When we sit together and vomit our woes all over the table and complain and whine — and just enjoy and love each other so much.  That’s real.

I look at my friends and am in awe of both of them. I think they are both so fabulous and funny and insightful and wonderful. That is friendship.

Anyway. I wanted to make an effort to document my gratitude and today, I am insanely grateful for these two women. I am grateful for their place in my life, for the time they share with me and for their love, support and patience. It isn’t easy to find time to nurture relationships when work, and family and partners and pets take up so much time. And I am so deeply grateful that we have found the time to keep our friendships alive.

This is not a new subject.

But it’s been on mind intermittently for a while.

When we are young, we are all on an equal playing field.  We all attend school (or are home schooled) and we all strive to be accepted at university.  No one is getting married or having children (usually) and we all have parents who pay the bills, friends who are interested in the same extracurricular activities that we are, and a home to return to every night to sleep.

In college we are all assigned dorm rooms, and class schedules and for the first time, taste  the headiness of freedom.  You can go to class if you want … but there is no one telling you that you must. We begin to test boundaries, challenge the status quo.  We find people who have the same values and ideals as ours — those people become our friends.  Maybe we all played soccer in high school, or did the school play — but that didn’t hold the same weight in college, as you sat up late into the night discussing symbolism in Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eating macaroni & cheese at the diner at 4am.  College is an amazing time of freedom without true responsibility.  And none of us really appreciate it until we are gone.

It’s after college that things begin to change.  Some people get married right away, some go on to further their education, some start working.  Everyone begins to understand the true responsibility of supporting oneself.  Most people handle it just fine. Some don’t.  All our paths begin to slowly diverge.  We make different choices, we pursue different dreams.

That’s almost easier said that understood.

I think I always had a clear idea of what I wanted — but I didn’t know how to achieve it.  I didn’t value myself very much, or my thoughts and ideas. I allowed other people to influence me, allowed their ideals and values to overshadow mine.  I craved acceptance, I craved the feeling of belonging that had eluded me most of my life.  Insecurity is a very powerful thing.  We allow things that we otherwise would not tolerate solely for the  sense of feeling loved.

I have to admit, I love my thirties.  I finally feel at ease in my own skin.  I feel settled and having my own approval means I don’t seek others in the same way I did in the past.  I know where I am, what I want, and have ideas on how to get there.  I don’t feel the need to apologize anymore.

And in conjunction with that, I don’t look at other’s lives and their choices, and judge or condemn them.  I do not envy them.  Because their choices aren’t my choices, and their dreams and wishes are also not mine.  If they are pursuing their dreams, and are happy in their life, then I am happy for them, but my opinion doesn’t … and shouldn’t… really matter.

But –and I think this is the thing that has been niggling in my brain — we should all respect each other’s lives and choices.  We don’t have to agree with them, or understand them.  We are not wearing their moccasins.  But we should respect the people we choose to keep in our lives as friends.  We should respect their choices, and their belongings, their space and their time.  We should not impose our own ideals and life choices upon them.  Or assume that how we feel is how they feel. We all face challenges, and hardships and impossible days.  But to assume that our difficulties somehow outweigh another person’s is ignorant and unfair.

I go through life now with an incurable neurological disease. I have difficulty seeing sometimes, and I haven’t fully felt my feet and legs for years.  Until I started my current therapy, I used a walking stick named Lydia.  Outside of my own personal, physical struggles, I have family health issues — both my family and John’s family.  John just underwent major surgery for his incurable genetic disease.  So yes, we have hardships.  And some days they break me, and some days they inspire me.

But they never define me.  And I never use them as a tool to shame or humiliate others.  I do not use my issues as a battle tool, a way to ‘win’ the fight for who has it hardest, who struggles and overcomes the most.  That’s just — well, absurd.  I also don’t seek other’s approval for how I manage everything; I don’t look for praise for living.

We all live.  We all manage our chaos, and dream big dreams.  We all have dark days when everything feels impossible.  But I like having people in my life, who despite the darkest of dark hours, still see the beauty.  People who don’t seek constant approval for doing the things we all do to survive.  People who don’t value their own choices above others and use them as a measuring stick to judge.

Anyway.  Stepping off my soap box now.  Taking a deep breath and heading off to enjoy this beautiful day.

I’ve been in my head a lot recently.

Maybe always … but I’m just more aware of it right now.

One of my closest friends recently confessed to a minor mid-life moment.  We’re not old — thirty-five, thirty-six — that’s not old.  But it’s a moment.  It’s a time when you really hope you have your sh*t together. You aren’t twenty-something anymore.  You can’t sort of float through things, hoping you find a current and somehow a direction.  The mistakes feel bigger, the consequences heavier.  You are settled into life — into a job, or if you’re lucky, a career.  You’re married.  Or you’ve been traveling with someone for a long time. Your lives are woven together.  You’ve had a child or a pet longer than you spent time in college.  College … it feels farther and farther away.

Time keeps ticking.  It never stops.  Which isn’t overwhelming really … until it is. Until expiration dates begin arriving, until you look at your parents and see the gray in their hair, until you realize that you’ve lived away from home nearly longer than you lived there.

Making changes becomes harder.  Somehow, when the whole world is ahead of you, anything is possible.  But as you become settled, change becomes less exciting and more burdensome.

I’m in my head because I somehow found myself where I am — in the job/career I have. It wasn’t necessarily a choice I made.  I was that kid who floated and ended up somewhere unintentional.  I’m not ungrateful — but there are moments when I feel trapped.  By bills.  By obligations — by having to be a grown up.  By bedtimes and early wake-ups and laundry and cleaning and dishes.

Anyway, I’m not really going anywhere with this — just writing to try to help my mind settle.  Hopefully.