Saving the Big Bucks at Sephora

I’ve started to save money to go to England again.  I’ve been trimming all over the place. I stopped getting my nails done. I’m going to try to color my own hair. Cutting back on clothes will be easy because I refuse to go up a size and right now that is where I am.   Shaving off dollars here and there will allow me to get to my goal.

The decision to save has set off a domino effect of expenses.

My soda stream broke! I suppose I can do without it, but why should I have to? I work very hard,  I should be able to enjoy the finer things in life like homemade sparkling water, shouldn’t I?

My laptop crashed, big time. It’s about 4 years old and the screen is being held to the body with mustache patterned duct tape I borrowed from Allison. I tried to turn in on. It said “bleep” and was gone.

Lost my camera. I laid it down at the park and didn’t realize until the other day!

Those are the things I didn’t have any control over. The problem also lies with things I can’t control myself from.

Two weeks ago I was in need of new liquid foundation. I had originally planned to go to Walgreens. That was a step up from Walmart, but I thought I was worth it. So, of course, I ended up at Sephora instead. Emily decided to get her makeup matched by a computer and applied by one of the make up artists. I jumped right in and ended up looking “five” years younger with the new color, so I was told. $98 dollars poorer, we left.

Then here comes Tristan’s girlfriend’s birthday, she is turning 18. I felt like I should get her something. Of course, I pulled up Sephora on my new laptop and found a great fragrance sampler. On the top of the screen it read that if I spend $25 more I can get free shipping. Well, I did really want that mascara that promises to make people think you have false eyelashes. I tried some of Emily’s and it made my lashes look like they had been glued on.  $78 poorer, order confirmed.

Feeling guilty about my purchases I went to the liquor store to get wine.  After perusing and brooding the selection, I ended up punishing myself with a box of Franzia, $13.99.

 

 

 

Fashion Backward

I have gone astray of fashion since gaining weight. It’s a real shame. It happens to a lot of women, but I didn’t think it would happen to me.

I am hopeless when going shopping for myself. I like the look on the mannequin, but in the dressing room it never works. I usually go back to the old faithful t-shirts and jeans.

I love shopping with my oldest daughter because she will tell it like it is. “Oh, no, Mom” and “No, no, no, Mom” she’ll say when I’m trying on clothes. On the other hand, I ended up with a maxi skirt because of her.

On a recent visit we went to the mall. I tried on a pair of new running shoes to start walking when I got back home. They were very “current”.  I tried on a pair of light grey.

Looking at myself in the mirror I said, “I like them”.

“No, they are too close to your skin tone,” Emily said. She later apologized in between fits of laughter of likening me to a zombie.

I bought a different color running shoe, head bands and a scarf. I was ready to set some trends of my own or at least follow them.

On the morning of going to the airport Emily put my hair in a messy bun. I put on the head band and the scarf over a t-shirt. I looked nice. Allison wanted to know why I was so dressed up.

Unfortunately, I realized another great use for the scarf; crumb catcher. God knows how many people I had encountered with the popcorn I had eaten three hours earlier caught in my fashion forward scarf.

You can’t take me anywhere.

Down Time

I can’t wait for Thursday; I’m finally going to have some down time. Much deserved I have to say. I’ve been waiting for this week to begin for months now.

My sister, Ellen, is visiting for a few days. She has promised to make cinnamon rolls on Friday morning. We’re going to binge on “Almost Royal” and “Orphan Black “episodes all day.

Yes, it’s finally here! I’ll be able to stay in bed until I’m ready to get up. Ellen said she would tidy the house, cook for me, help me dress and maybe even wash my hair.

Is it weird to be this excited for shoulder surgery?

Sad Today

I’m stressed out and sad today. My youngest daughter is having behavioral problems above and beyond normal puberty mood swings. Remember I have already raised two older successful children, so I know the drama of the teenage years up close and personal.

My daughter has never been easy. Even as a toddler she was throwing tantrums and was hard to control. She went to testing and was in a special preschool program for such behaviors. It worked and we had some pretty good years for a while with only minor incidents along the way. I was not taking it for granted, I loved it. I was finally, even though intermittently, having a relationship with her.

Fast forward to twelve. Temper tantrums have resumed …. preteen style. New to the mix is lying and being sneaky. Yelling and swearing at me.

I’m so tired. Sad, I think today. I don’t usually cry, but it comes on unexpectedly lately. I’m not talking a sobbing session like earlier days in my life, but just a few quite tears.

 

Intuition

I am always a great preacher of following one’s intuition and gut feelings. This time though I failed, miserably!

Allison wanted to spend the night with a friend I disapproved of. Nothing major had happened with this friend, just a general feeling of unease. Allison had recently been disappointed by her best friend and was feeling lonely. John and I discussed it and decided she could go.

Around 8:30 that night Allison called and said she wanted to come home because she had fallen off a bike and was hurt. I was not prepared for the extent of the road rash she had all down her back, seat and thigh. At the emergency room she cried when they washed the wounds. She has not being able to lie on her back since last Friday. She has been in terrible pain.

The point of this story is I feel culpable. I held out not letting her go over there for the first 6 weeks of summer. My soft heart (and brain) took over.  This is a good example of never giving in when you know deep in your soul something is just not quite right.

Repentance. Penitence. Contrition.

Tiny Brush

My hair is getting too long. I’ve never had it long before so I thought I would go for it and just let it grow. Well, now it is to the middle of my back. Not only is it getting a little stringy on a good day, when I do curl it I look a little like the cowardly lion from the Wizard of Oz. Remember when they go to Oz for the makeovers?

Today after I got out of the shower I towel dried my hair and then looked for my brush. My brush was missing…again. This is the phenomenon that happens to mothers when their girls reach the age of primping. Common missing items are tweezers, razors, shampoo, makeup and, of course, brushes.

This is the brush I ended up using. I found it by digging around in the bottom of the bathroom drawer.

tinybrush

I don’t know if it is obvious from this photo, but my toothbrush is longer than this tiny compact “purse” brush.

“Pathetic”, I say.

Damn! Lost Again!

 

I’ve gathered a few more new more songs lately.  I should say that I didn’t dare share them with my oldest daughter, but I did.  The reaction I got was not what I expected.  I mean, I guess I really thought she would like at least one of them.  Why do I never learn? Isn’t there a saying “The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

I downloaded a couple of songs from a band I had heard of recently.  I don’t remember how I stumbled upon them.  The one I decided to play for Emily was a ballad, a love song of sorts.  I thought the soft voice he was singing in was a nice change from the rawness of the other two songs I have of theirs.

Laughing, Emily said, “Oh my god mom, he is so gay!  What is your fascination with gay bands lately?”

“What? Why? Why do you think he is gay?”

“I can just tell!”

So I said, “Well, let me play you another one of their songs!”

I was going to show her that there is no way you can know if someone is gay (or the whole band for that matter) by that song.  Now all along I know at least the lead singer says he is, but I wasn’t going to let her in on it.

I obviously also have a little competitive streak in me. I didn’t expect to get into a sexual persuasion war, but yet there we were.  What was I trying to prove anyway?  I’m not sure really. I was, as usual when it comes to my music, offended because she didn’t like what I liked.

I played for her the song, which was opposite of the song she just listened to.

“It’s not my fault I look better in her party dress,” he sang.

THAT WAS THE FIRST LINE!!  Damn…why didn’t I remember that?!

Time for Bed

My husband just came home and ruined the little cave I have built tonight. It’s not his fault, he has a right to come home.

My cave consists of a glass of wine, putting head phones in the computer, listening to my iTunes and writing about what usually starts out as nothing and sometimes ends up as something.

I’ve been in my cave a lot more than usual lately because Allison has been at a friend’s for a week.  It’s been a very comfortable and well-deserved hibernation for me.   Now, the time is getting later and later to start though because of summer break. Allison’s bedtime for school used to begin at 8:30 pm or so and now it is 9:30 – 10:00. Actually, I have been trying to remember to call it “time for sleep” because “time for bed” sounds too babyish and Allison is certainly not a baby as I’m constantly being reprimanded for. That doesn’t sound right to her either and I get an eye roll.

How about “time to go to bed”, “time to retire” or maybe she would rather it be what my mother called it for years “time for bobos”? No, that shouldn’t generate an eye roll or a sound like a tween cat coughing up a hair ball!

 

 

 

What Next?

A little confused tonight as to how to look at my life. It’s been four years since I set out on this journey.  For the first time since then I feel really well. It’s almost what I imagined life to be. You know, being normal.

I am still a little sensitive to mood changes though. Every time I have a different feeling I wonder if it is normal or are my moods shifting again because of my “special” brain chemicals.

The depression is gone! The highs are gone! I feel regular all the time. What does that do for me? Not sure yet.

I’ve been going along at a pretty good pace. When summer break began I had a list on two sides of the paper. It has been reduced to one of those skinny magnetic grocery lists that hang on the fridge. Good for me, but what happens when I run out of things to do frantically?

I know what I’ve gained, but what I will lose?  It can’t possibly remain the same. Will I begin to lose my energy? How about the ability to write anything worth reading? Sense of humor? God, no.  Anything, but that.

 

Full Circle

I was going to write about my juice fast I’ve been on for four days. I say, I was, until I realized how I must be boring everyone with diet after diet.

I thought I’d write about my son, 18, who just graduated and has overnight turned into a horrible version of himself. More of the same, dull.

How about my bipolar II condition? Then I thought, do I capitalize the “b” in bipolar and do I use roman numerals for the “II” or the numeral “2”.

Obviously, sidetracked I started to write about my love of Adam Lambert and U2 (do you know I met Bono) (yes, yes, I did!).  Adam’s next (dare to dream)!

I wrote about the silly predicaments I get myself into. For instance, I kept biting the inside of my lip every time I cheated and ate on the four day juice fast (Karma I think). It’s going to take at least four days to heal!

See, somehow I have written about all the same boring things, but I have come full circle. That makes me feel better, you know, finishing things.