I was going through a catalogue of my favourite shopping destination and a few caught my eye. Any favourites on your ends? Bargains on shoes and bags? Last (best) perfume?
After I picked the pieces for the blog, I noticed an overwhelming scent of beach and relaxation and swimming and all that good stuff. Sigh. I can just feel some warm sand between my toes.
I love tunics. They are classy enough for the early evening and lovely for a day off.
This beautiful blouse caught my attention. I like longer sleeves in the summer to protect my arms against the sun.
Uh! Be still my little nomad heart. I love this little dress.
There is always space for one more tote bag. My friends call them luggage but I find them essential. As long as I can put everything + my laptop in, I don’t care how heavy or back-breaking it gets.
Swimsuits can be so humbling but I love this one. Plus big hat, pink flip flops and SPF 70 body lotion, and you are set.
Oh man, gas prices are killing my savings. I’ve cut down on air-conditioning despite the early summer and I car pool twice a week but goddamn. This sucks.
And today! A coworker is on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He asked for the same paper 3 times. I e-mailed it, copied it, and put it on the company server. If he had asked for it one more time, I would have walked calmly into his office and choked him till his tongue lolled from the side of his mouth
I better have a drama-free remainder of week because I am not impressed with its beginning.
So I struggle to do something useful on the weekends. It is no secret that I find work to deplete my creativity, nay humanity, in a slow and torturous manner. I am very grateful to earn a living when so many do without but there is always this feeling that there should be more to life than what I do for many, many hours per week.
Anyway, this long weekend I vowed to finally join a couple of eager beavers at work and volunteer for Habitat for Humanity. They build homes for the poor and low income earners through the help of volunteers. The future owners also put in hours to help with the construction.
I showed up in full dork uniform: goggles (for eye protection), boots (because I don’t go to ERs), long, industrial strength gloves that started a fit of giggles among the more experienced volunteers. Damn them! I don’t care what they thought of me, I was going to be safe (and stylish), dammit. I was colour-matched and went in bright and early on Saturday with an extra large tea from my favourite cafe.
Can I just tell you that handiwork is the best?!
Okay, I wasn’t as useful as I could have been and I don’t take too kindly to working shoulder to shoulder with body odor emitting brutes. But I had a blast. I painted an entire living room wall, helped install a fake fireplace, and cut up wood. Everyone took it easy on the newbie, and even understood why I don’t eat at McDonald’s and had to pack a veggie lunch.
Oh, but that’s not all I did this weekend! I finally went to the Blood Center and placed myself on the bone marrow registry. I don’t usually donate blood because they don’t want to have anything to do with anemic me (talk about kicking a gift horse, huh), but I could go on the registry with a simple cheek swab. They are seriously short of potential Black/African donors so if you know of one in your part of the world, try to go on it. You never know whom you may help (or may help you and loved ones).
So those are my good deeds for the weekend. I don’t know if I would do the home building thing again for a little while, much as I found the physical work energizing. It was just too hot and dizzying. Maybe in the fall.
Girls (and guys, if you know anything about makeup), you need to share a couple of tips with a sister!
I have 2 issues:
One: Lower lip is two shades lighter than upper one, like they belong to 2 different people.
Two: Slightly more pigmentation at the corners of the lips.
I like MAC glosses and Sheisido lipstick. What do you use to even lip colour out? Within an hour of application, gloss (my preference over lipstick) seems to disappear and it’s like I haven’t used anything at all.
And then there’s the darker colour at the corner. I use a bit of powder but I’m beginning to think that concealer maybe better. Any experiences?
I know there are people being tortured by nature in Myanmar and Sichuan, but this is bloody important to me.
Dudes, I can’t sleep.
My insomnia is back with a vengeance. It’s been 3 or 4 months since I had trouble sleeping and tonight is the 5th night that I am wide awake after midnight. I am bone tired. No sleep, not even drowsiness. You name the remedy and I have tried it. I was very sleepy earlier in the evening so I ran to bed thinking that I could doze off before my body realizes what happened.
No such luck.
In between sleep and wake, I hear the blaring sounds of fire and police department vehicles. I am telling you, all hell broke loose about 1.5 hours ago. So I step out of bed to get a glass of water (since the police seem to be speeding through my living room from the siren volume) and I see smoke and flames bellowing at the window. A major fire in the middle of the bleeding night. Why can’t people set their houses/factories on fire at 3 p.m.? I don’t need any sleep disruption aids. I am tired, folks. I have this funny taste in my mouth from sleeplessness.
I hope no one is hurt. I really do. I know I’m exhausted and a little numb but fires are horrific and I pray all living things are outside that inferno.
So I have a chance to take some dance lessons at a fairly cool place with all kinds of professional dancers who prance around, terminally giddy and energetic. Me, on the other hand? Let’s see:
2 left feet – check
Difficulty following orders – check twice
Aversion to being thrown around – yep
Disgust with sweat monkeys – BIG yes
I used to love all sorts of dance, though. Was even good at a few. I loved being in a studio and spending hours learning and perfecting a routine. Probably not as a good a dancer as I fancied myself but it made me very happy. I would love to be in the studio (instead of the tracks).
I’m trying to re-inject some culture into my existence. My girl AMTAF has me reading some literary gems again but it’s not enough to fight this Britney-esque feeling. A morphing of sorts has happened in a slow but steady manner since grad school. The only music I listen to is the one my sister sends in a desperate attempt to save me from uncoolness. We spent 30 minutes on the phone last Friday reminding me that Next and Shai belonged in the last millenium.
Art shows? Lectures at the Museum of Anthropology? Alumni fund-raising gala? Forget it! Try go-cart racing. I put my foot down and refused to do anything but drive like a maniac shooting old people dirty looks. I got your Depends, you old fart!
See what I’m telling you.
Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I put on stilletos and a little dress and had conversation with people who know that Africa is a continent?
Here is my resolution, dammit!
1. Waltz + Salsa lessons with a super cute hunk (or whomever can fit me in on Mondays and Wednesdays at 6p.m).
2. One art show per month.
Ideas, People?
Help!
