two thumbs up!

i'm fairly sure the "product" reviews i've done on here have been focused on restaurants, books, movies, and yummy ingredients. it's high time i branched out to beauty products! this might not interest all of you, so feel free to go eat some fruit and cheese instead.

after ogling it a few times at my local drugstore, i finally decided to invest in a clean & clear advantage blackhead eraser* on the basis of a review on cosmo's website - by a man!

a little background on what informed this tremendous gamble: most face cleansers cause problems for me, because i have normal skin most places, dry skin on my forehead, around my eyebrows, and along my jawline, and blackheads but not super-oily skin on my nose. biore strips remove the blackheads but leave the pores wide open for attack - and that's not something cold water can fix. exfoliating masks don't get inside the pores, either. it's not that i'm uber lazy... but i don't care for laborious or costly attempts at solving this. as long as my skin is basically clean and healthy, i don't worry too much about blemishes and such. however, if this product could do what it promised - actually *reduce* the chances of recurring blackheads - it was worth a try. plus, facials are fun.

short of an actual scrubbing pad, which clean&clear makes and i've purchased many times before, this is the simplest thing ever. also, it's kind of fun. you attach a medicated pad onto the velcro top, turn the little device on, and quickly run it under the tap. as you slowly rub it all over your wet face, it vibrates, removing dead skin and applying that magical ingredient (salicylic acid, embedded in the pad) which "dissolves blackheads." um: it really does. a final wash with cold water removes the suds and leaves your face feeling smooth and beautiful. or, you know, clean and... clear.

they recommend repeating this process every three-four days, which means i'll need a refill pack of medicated pads (about $7) every ten weeks. that brings the annual total cost to about $54. seems quite reasonable to me.

experience: a
results: a
long-term: ?

i'll keep you updated! i know you'll be waiting on the edge of your seats ;)

*note that the price listed on the website isn't what i paid. at my shoppers drugmart, that kit was $25.99 and included the device, 20 one-use medicated pads, and the requisite AA battery.

tri a little tenderness

* someone i once cared about very deeply lost a significant person in his life
* my brother-in-law didn't get the grant he was hoping for, so he and my sister are worried about their future plans to move to the uk
* my mom's highlights turned out blonder than she anticipated

i'll give you one guess as to which of the three my mother thought was worth worrying about. confession: i really don't understand.

four-thoughts

- bought a zester!
- made couscous for the first time!
- am happier with luther than i thought i'd be!
- still find time for heartache.

5

when you're sitting two feet away from someone who is stomping her feet, slapping her face and ears, trying to throw the heating vent at you, and screaming at the top of her lungs until she is in tears... five minutes feels like an eternity.


p.s.
michael: have you seen any new movies lately?
me: well... oh, i saw "17 again"!
michael: oh, so you've seen in twice already?

i love my job. there's so much laughter there. so much trust. and it brings me tremendous joy even - and maybe especially - when it's heartbreaking and terrifying.

6

the other day, while hanging out at cornerstone, i asked casey, "have i ever cooked a meal here that didn't involve asparagus?" he pondered this and answered in the negative. upon further reflection, i realized that i couldn't remember the last meal i'd prepared *anywhere* that didn't involve asparagus. and while i looooove that veggie in a multitude of ways - steamed, stirfried, enfolded in eggs, encircled by prosciutto, roasted, bbqed, etc - enough was more or less enough.

tonight's dinner featured no asparagus. and (for high values of six or loose definitions of "ingredient"*) it relied on only six delicious ingredients. yummers!

here are the more photogenic ones:










oh, salsa, spread by my (new!) pastry brush. so spicy. so penetrating.
oh, red onion, sliced into gentle arcs. so target-shaped. so aromatic.
oh, roma grape tomatoes, cloven in half. so juicy. so fleshy.

siiiiigh.

the finished product looked something - but only *something* - like this.

as you can see, in addition to the yummies mentioned above, there were:
- "grains" of orzo (rice-shaped pasta that manages to be moist and light and still pasta-esque!)
- two halves of a rib-eye steak (which is what the salsa was spread on!)
- many peas (many!)



for those who are interested in the done-ness of said steak, it was a little less pink than it appears in this photo. i like my meat a bit closer to well-done, to be honest, but these were juicy (and therefore delectable) nonetheless.






all gone!

('cept for the containers of orzo and veggies now in my fridge.)

* my fajita spice combo, some kosher salt, and olive oil cooperated with the starring ingredients to create top-notch yum. love also helped.

7

we haven't seen each other in seven years, but about a month ago he told me this was true, if a little exaggerated.

and neither of us said anything at the time.

8

i heard my mom on the phone once, finding out her friend had leukemia... nu se poate (it can't be) was all i could make out. it can't be, it can't be... but it is, you know? it's hard to escape stories of people sick and dying, people in pain, in general - i know you guys are all touched by hurt, too, whether it's your own or that of other people. it's like all that stuff in the united states of leland: if you look deep enough into anyone's eyes, it's like there's this tremendous sadness, and they're just fighting to bury it under pta meetings and card games and status reports and facebook and shoes and books and movies and garbage.

i was thinking about how irrational love can be. i was thinking about how, when i sit beside nancy and no one's at home, i ask her, "are you happy?" and there is no earthly reason to hope that she will ever be happy, let alone be able to tell me that she's happy. how love is about hoping against all odds, without ignoring the sadness. i don't know what st. paul was on about, separating faith, hope, and love. i mean, you can argue with me if you really want, but i'm pretty sure those three aren't that distinct from one another.
 
my dad and i were talking about what it would be like to actually live each day as if it were your last. i joked that your friends and relatives would finally say, "listen, i get that you love me... you don't have to call every day and spend an hour on the phone with me, telling me how much you value me. i get it, i really, really do." sometimes i wonder if anything "practical" could get done if i took love seriously. maybe what scares me most about death is that there isn't enough time to really love people. maybe the beatles were right: eight days a week is not enough to show i care.