Have you ever had something stuck in your craw for so long you never thought it would go away? That’s been the relationship I’ve had with fragrance for the past six years. If you check out the last two blogs I posted, you’ll see that I was off scent for a long time, due to circumstances beyond my control. That is what’s been sticking in my craw for so long (What is a “craw” anyway? I keep envisioning that piece of popcorn that gets stuck in your teeth which takes yards of dental floss to extricate from your mouth.) Then, cancer treatment shattered my sense of smell so completely, I was convinced it was forever fucked. Forgive the strong language; if you’ve been down that road, you know what I’m talking about.
In lieu of a November beauty favorites post, I’ve decided to tackle a subject I’m becoming a little irritated by, and it happens to involve makeup and skin care.
My favorite militant feminist organization, Breast Cancer Action, has lightened up on the mammogram debate for the time being, and is now focusing on the dangers of makeup and skin care products. Do some makeup and skin care items have harmful ingredients in them? Yes. Does there need to be more regulation on the part of the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) to keep us safe from dangerous products? Maybe. At this point, waking up every morning puts you at risk for something. I’m not sure we should be all that concerned that our moisturizer or lip balm might be killing us.
In March, 2011, I wrote a blog entry about Charlie Sheen’s meltdown after being fired from the hit sitcom, Two and a Half Men. I’ve always admired Sheen’s acting abilities, dating all the way back to Platoon and Wall Street; especially Wall Street because he personified a certain type of asshole that my generation must claim responsibility for. What type of asshole is that, you ask? The yuppie (young upwardly mobile urban professional) – the hipster antecedent who cared about nothing except making money, and gave birth to the materialistic mindset we’ve been cursed with since Michael Douglas’s character Gordon Gekko uttered the phrase, “greed is good”. The yuppies have now descended into middle age, but you can tell which ones are still a little “Bud Fox” around the edges, and long for those Halcyon days of insider trading and Reaganomics.
Most of us are familiar with variations of the expression, “When the dust settles”, or, “When the smoke clears”, we find out who our real friends are. This expression is apt when the roads our lives take become winding, and there is no clear path ahead of us. Sometimes, family and friends decide to stick with you as you navigate tricky twists and turns. Other times, they disappear into the dust and smoke, never to be seen or heard from again.
This essay was originally published on July 27, 2015.
Summer is always the sluggish time of year when it comes to work. It doesn’t matter what you do for a living – working during the summer is a drag. Commuting in hot weather via public transit saps your will to live (thankfully, I don’t have to endure that anymore), but so does that niggling feeling in the back of your mind that you’re not working because the evil forces are conspiring against you.
This essay was originally published on July 9, 2015.
“Sweet Jesus in a Jeep” is a popular expression of frustration I see time and time again on social media. I refrain from using it, since I am Jewish, but I’ve been known to verbally exclaim “Jesus Christ!” on a regular basis to express frustration about many things. At present, I am in a position where I am completely flummoxed, and there isn’t an adequate expression to describe my frustration with the raging mammography debate.
This essay was originally published on June 28, 2015.
When I think about temper tantrums, the first person who comes to mind is John McEnroe. The man had the most legendary temper in tennis, and since Wimbledon gets underway tomorrow, it seems fitting to use his image.
This essay was originally published on May 26, 2015.
May 24, 2014 was the day I had my first-ever mammogram at age 47. I was flip about it. I told my Facebook friends I was going to do battle with the “hamburger press” for the first time, and afterwards, I said it really wasn’t a big deal. I went for coffee with a new friend. I got a frantic phone call from my doctor at eight o’clock that night advising me to go for more screening. Here we are.
This essay was originally published on April 22, 2015.
I’ve been battling a cold for the past week, and I swear, it has legs. I guess I was due for one this severe, because I haven’t had a cold since I left the Great White North two-and-a-half years ago. I think that’s a personal record. I never got sick while I was on chemo, despite my non-existent immune system, so I think my body is treating me to a long overdue comeuppance.
This essay was originally published on April 7, 2015.
Life has been very interesting since I last posted, mainly because I had a complete meltdown following the conclusion of roasting. I didn’t realize that, like the roast you let rest on the counter after removing it from the oven and tenting it with foil, you keep cooking after you’re cooked. Yes, as bad as I felt the last time I blogged, I started to feel even worse a couple of days later.