Thursday, October 8, 2015

bitches gotta read: everything everything.

OKAY SO WE ARE REALLY DOING THIS. and it's gonna be difficult because it's october and there are so many good things on tv right now and i got an ipad mostly so i could watch my shows in the bathroom so i basically don't even read when i poop anymore jesus god what a nightmare. when am i going to have time to read? on the train? in the back of a cab!? also i'm not done writing my new book and wtf am i even doing with myself other than online searching for flattering ponchos. (is that even a real thing.) my goddamn manuscript is due, like, yesterday. anyway, for a while i've been kicking around the idea of a book club but in real life i know i would never go; i would read the book and never go to the club part and be crippled with guilt every month for suggesting a thing i'm too socially anxious to go to and i'm stressed out enough as it is. so this is my consolation plan. i like reading YA books so that's what we're reading. unless you don't want to. see how easy this is gonna be, my dude?

the rules
1 we are never going to meet in person. that would require a bra and zippered pants and probably an expensive uber and motherfuck that. you don't have to worry about karen's gluten allergy or that monica doesn't like gin. no cleaning the cat box or vacuuming the drapes or hiding the dirty laundry in the oven so your company doesn't realize what a huge slob you are. just you in your house glasses and gravy pants sobbing into your vodka glass, the way john green intended. getting together with people you don't live next door to is hella stressful. plus, a bunch of old bitches sitting around talking about fictional teenage romance is lame. OR IS IT THO.
2 we are never going to discuss this, ever. i mean seriously. i'm going to derive pleasure from knowing that people i might possibly enjoy spending time with if i ever could bring myself to meet new people and i are falling asleep and drooling on the same book we'll probably never finish. maybe we'll talk about it on twitter or something. but even thinking about organizing that is a daunting task and i'm already exhausted. mariyam suggested making a facebook group, but is that dumb? the internet is so hard sometimes.
3 we are never going to shame each other about not reading the fucking book. this is the beauty of never having to meet or talk about it: i ain't gotta come up with "thoughtful questions" and you ain't gotta pretend to remember what happened at the end of chapter seven while a bunch of wine-drunk bitches you don't even like that much wait expectantly for your answer. i'll read them, but that's only in case i run into you at the farmer's market and you decide to pop quiz my ass.

brief internet synopsis: madeline whittier is allergic to the outside world. so allergic, in fact, that she has never left the house in all of her seventeen years. when a new family moves in next door, she begins a complicated romance that challenges everything she's ever known. the story unfolds via vignettes, diary entries, texts, charts, lists, illustrations and more. everything, everything is about the thrill and heartbreak that happens when we break out of our shell to do crazy, sometimes death-defying things for love.

i hope you like it. see you next month.

Friday, October 2, 2015

fall beauty tips for the bored and occasionally greasy.

i seriously gotta get my shit together. guess how many times i've worn makeup this week? ZERO. now guess how much money i spent at sephora last month? upwards of 14 billion. WHY!? what am i even doing this for!?!?!! everything stinks and nothing works and even the stuff that is kind of okay flakes off or spills everywhere or causes a bright red painful-looking rash streaked across the entirety of your tender left cheek. and not just because your colorful cheek ink is so popping. somehow, i bravely soldier on. reading about creams then slathering or dabbing or rubbing or spritzing them on my skin and crossing my fingers that my eyelashes won't fall out and my lips aren't going to swell shut. (but if they did i would shine them up with some oil infusion color and care because that shit is gorgeous. and then afterward i would soothe them with some badger creamy cocoa butter lip balm. cocoa butter is the official moisturizer of african-america. pretty sure this shit is made by hippie white people, though.)

anyway, aren't you bummed summer is over!? LOL JUST KIDDING, FATTY. the last thing i ever want to fucking do is figure out how to wedge this rotting meat carcass into a pair of motherfucking shorts in the blistering fucking heat. so thank the global warming gods that it's still about to get cold. in twenty years who fucking knows, it'll probably be 137 degrees at 10pm in the dead of january but for now? bitches still get to rock a blanket scarf. i never write about clothes because i basically wear the same relatively cool-seeming adult uniform every day, but YO DOGGY YOU GOTTA GET YOUR JUGGS A BREASTNEST. i ordered one months and months ago because of this piece i read on xojane and i have since gotten three more and do yourselves a favor and fuck this blog off into the sea and crash the breastnest site with all of your plastic monies. it's the softest, most comfortable cotton and it goes with everything, especially your inside cheese-eating pants. it's like a baby bjorn for your tits. a booby bjorn. IT IS PURE MAGIC. 

before we get to the 137 different shampoos i've tried in the last six weeks, let's first talk about feeling beautiful on the inside. i stopped eating meat and dairy a couple months ago and you know what? my skin is still weird and terrible, i can no longer solve my volatile emotional breakdowns with medium-rare bacon cheeseburgers or half-melted pints of pistachio ice cream, and even though i lost thirty pounds in five minutes i'm definitely still about to kill myself. but before i do i'm going to pass on this super easy and nutritious vegan recipe i make all the time, because bitches is always like GOD WHAT DO YOU EVEN EAT. 1 chop up some fresh broccoli 2 coat liberally with the tears you shed sobbing over pictures of gooey nachos 3 steam for five minutes 4 rage eat over the kitchen sink while contemplating taking every pill in your medicine cabinet at the same time. i mean seriously you won't even want any mouthwatering roasted chicken or crisp, salty bacon crumbled on top. (someone cut my fucking throat, please.) 

i don't really paint my nails a lot because i'm terrible at it and nail shops make me feel bad, plus once it's dried i obsess over every imperceptible nick and gouge until i drive myself crazy and scrape it off while vowing to never paint my dumb nails ever again. and i'm usually pretty boss at upholding that promise, until i see some earthangel on the train with perfect glossy nails and i look down at the cuticles fraying around each of my nailbeds like a sweater from the salvation army and think, "bitch you need to do better." so first i signed up for those monthly julep boxes because my girl gets them but also because i need a reason to drag myself into work every day and the possible arrival of a present on the afternoon UPS truck is as good a reason as i'm going to get. i have amazon prime and i order one thing every single day so that my life is an endless parade of gifts. (that may or may not be true.) so a box full of nail polishes that i will never use and toss in the trash once they've grown slimy and begun to separate is obviously the appropriate thing. i also have a bunch of sweet polishes from trust fund beauty that are vegan and non toxic and five free if those things are important to you.

my commitment to wasting as much money as i can on senseless bullshit remains intact no matter the season, and as sure as the leaves change colors and fall gently from the trees i will spend roughly $2,936,785 every october to approximate their scent in my home. i'm the jerkbag with a balsam candle burning on her desk in the middle of april because i want my life to feel like crockpot stew and pajamas literally every day of the year but i'm not a fucking savage, i do switch my scents up from time to time, and these are my jams for fall 2015: archipelago botanicals in stonehenge (smells like a hot grandpa's armpit), bath and body works marshmallow fireside (smells like a rich guy's buttcrack, you know, the kind of homie who has a secluded cabin in aspen), and the southern firefly candle in tobacco barn (smells like the crease of a fat, sexy, rugged dude's sweaty neck).

ARE YOU GUYS REALLY MASTERING LIQUID FOUNDATION OR NAH. even if i buy the good shit, i'm looking at you tom ford ahem, halfway through its application i'm like "i hate my slimy face and i look like a fucking mannequin." but not even a quality mannequin, i'm talking a 1986 montgomery ward mannequin. so i'm not falling for those dirty tricks ever again. i have a solitary bottle of l'oreal true match that i like to slap on while staring blankly at youtube winged eyeliner tutorials i will never ever feel confident enough to attempt. and it has nothing to do with the makeup, i'm just bad at blending. so i'll stick with what i'm good at, which is haphazardly poking at my t-zone with powder and hoping no one takes my fucking picture. mac studiofix is my one true love, but shhhhhh i've been stepping out with a new beau. cover fx pressed mineral foundation is everything i could ever want in a mate: strong, supportive, and incredibly mattifying.

okay. if you've been here before you know that i never write about eye products because even just sitting here doing nothing my eyes are sticky and wet so instead of wasting money on fancy eyeliners and mascara that will leak down my face ten seconds after i put them on i instead buy flonase and generic allegra online. but i do make up for it by flushing a shit ton of money down the facial care toilet. i will try anything on my face. i just don't care. and i'm kind of dumb, so i'm a sucker for flashy advertisements and hollow promises ie the perfect person to lure into spending her rent on some new crap she absolutely doesn't need and will make absolutely no difference in the quality of her skin. SIGH. i love love love gabifresh (even though she never accepted my facebook friend request but whatever) and one day i was scrolling through her site seething in a jealous rage at her gorgeousness and saw a post she did about frank body's coffee-based skincare and she looked so glowy and ethereal that i ordered the sweet cheeks bundle immediately without even looking at the reviews. it came three days later with a creamy scrub, a creamy cleanser, and a basic moisturizer, and i still look like me and not like gabi so DUH life is terrible. but the cleansers are nice!

so lipstick is my jam and always my main event but you guys: lately when i see pictures of myself in dark lipstick i feel like i look old. and my hair is so fucking gray that it doesn't matter? BUT THEN IT KIND OF DOES. and i am a 'til death wearer of red lips but i'm not trying to get called ma'am at the pharmacy so these days i'ma keep shit light. milani is the hands-down best drugstore brand (says me), and their moisture matte lipsticks are my hands-down fucking favorite. they feel real good and don't give you gross dingleberry crumbs between your lips after an hour and they are basically perfect. i have matte darling, matte beauty, and matte naked (HUBBA). and they cost six dollars each. i mean, come on. but a bitch is still fancy, so i'm also still obsessed with nars velvet matte lip pencils, except now i alternate between dolce vita and walkyrie because young. young-ish? oh shut up. also also i'm rul into kat von d's studded kiss lipsticks and holy shit they're expensive but you're worth it i promise. there are so many gorgeous red ones *sob* but OLD AS FUCK so: lolita, cathedral, gothica, and lovecraft. i used to not fuck too heavy with gloss but since i don't really eat food anymore bring on the chicken greased lips! my faves: milani brilliant shine (srsly kids, don't sleep) in sardinia, venice, and milan; nyx butter glosses in creme brulee, tiramisu, and madeleine; and make up for ever plexi gloss in 500, 501, 105p, and 300p.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WATCHING ON TELEVISION. i like shows more than i like humans, so every fall i get v v excited at the prospect of all the new friends i'm about to make through my beloved tv. i watch so much silly shit and i would fight you in the street if you ever tried to take my remote control away. so far i'm really loving scream queens. are all the new shows even out yet? i can't keep track of the new shit, but i have watched the new seasons of blackish and empire. and don't tell anybody but i fucking live for survivor. i love watching people practically starve to death while putting absurd puzzles together for a couple thousand dollars. i still set the tivo every week for project runway and shark tank. ugh and i also religiously watch the voice even though the people i like never win but i think it's because i have an adam levine thing i haven't completely unpacked yet and now is probably not the time. you know what i'm obsessed with? project greenlight. they can't make episodes of this shit fast enough, it's such a jam. when is the good wife coming back, and is it always going to be on at 8:57 or 7:32 because of i'm also stoked for the affair to come back? because i watched that whole first season in a day and the entire time felt like i wasn't smart enough to really understand exactly what the fuck was happening. i need a text buddy for that shit. get at me if you watch it because seriously, that ending? it was like taking the goddamn GRE.

god what else even is there? i love me some doctor bronner's castile liquid soap in almond, and i still use neutrogena body oil every day along with my pond's dry skin cream (check the dusty bottom shelf of your local grocer's lotion aisle or steal it from your grandma). lately i've been washing my gnarly scalp with shea moisture african black soap shampoo but the shit doesn't lather and i am childlike in my need to see bubbles and feel that elusive clean squeak. look, i know sulfates are terrible and all but there is just something so soothing about working your fingers through a big foam cloud on the top of your head. lush silky underwear is still the best powder and lush coalface is still the best oily skin soap. also i have a lot of books on my to-read list (fates and furies by lauren groff, negroland by margo jefferson, loving day by mat johnson, the star side of bird hill by naomi jackson) taunting me from where i've piled them atop my desk, and also also i'ma for real start that YA book club where we never talk or meet but maybe read the same book at kind of the same time while possibly wearing our breastnests and old lady lipsticks. maybe we can facetime? lol jk i would rather die than show you my pixellated computer chins. THAT IS WHAT TEXT NUDES ARE FOR.