I'm somebody who has, for the last decade, had zero problems dropping $100+ in a single go on fancy foundation and more red lipsticks. Yet I've always struggled to spend that kind of money on other products. This includes clothing and accessories: the only jewelry I wear these days is my engagement ring, and I get almost all of my outfits in thrift stores or off of sales racks. So it's not surprising that I've had the same Fossil bag, and only that one Fossil bag, for a solid four years.
Even buying that bag (on the right) was tough for me. I scoured the internet for the cheapest price, eventually finding the tan shade for under $100. When I received it, I made sure to treat it with leather balms and protectants. I loved that bag. The front pouches were perfect for my wallet and keys, there was an inside zip pocket that I could stuff with tampons and medicines (I'm a walking pharmacy/grandmother/whatever), and there were two small sections on the inside that were perfect for hand cream, lip balm, business cards...basically, there were many junk pockets.
This month, I finally admitted that my beloved bag had bit the dust. The zipper had ripped away from the bag itself, making it impossible to shut properly, and beyond the normal, expected discoloration of the leather, I'd noticed a lot of black staining. So I went ahead and bought a new bag, also from Fossil: the Sydney crossbody. It was already on sale for $97, but I found a coupon code on Google that dropped the price to about $72 shipped.
You know what's weird? I knew I needed a new bag, and I got a sturdy bag for a good price, but I still struggled to spend the money. And when I thought about it, I realized...it's harder for me to spend large amounts of money on anything now that I've been downsizing and no-buying. I used to spend this kind of money on lipstick without even flinching, and now I spend a lot of time asking, "Is this makeup worth a whole day's work?" I mean, buying $200 worth of makeup twice a year? Doable. Using gift cards or receiving PR? Whatever. But I don't feel comfortable spending this kind of money on non-necessities on the regular anymore.
Now that it's here, I'm really enjoying this bag. It's a little smaller and has fewer pockets, which I wanted so I'd carry a bit less shit. That's...kind of working. We'll see if I can downsize my bag's contents even more!
Remember when YouTube would let you color correct your videos and add
annotations? Man, those were the glory days. I'm sorry I'm actually blue
in this video; I didn't realize they'd gotten rid of the color
correcting filter and I don't have very good video editing software. Any ideas on what I should invest in? And by invest, I mean buy for $20 or less?
Also, since we can't add annotations anymore and I forgot to say this in
the video, I'll repeat what I stated in this video's description box: Yes, Sarah
Waters has stated that "Street Lavender" was an inspiration for
"Tipping the Velvet." My complaint is more with people who claim
"Tipping the Velvet" is a direct copy or a total rip-off. In reality,
the similarities are mostly surface level stuff, or things you'll find
in a lot of other Neo-Victorian fiction. "Inspired by" is not the same
as "plagiarized."
Also, a huge thank you to everyone who donated via KoFi! I sent $20 to amfAR in January. I'd like to keep collection for amfAR throughout the spring, since it's an organization that's near and dear to my heart.
Most of my regular readers know that I've been an educator for almost a decade. What you may not realize is that I've been working multiple jobs for five years now, including several online/remote positions. Moving to the great plains prompted a slight career switch; these days, I have an on-site job teaching ELL and GED courses and running a testing center, and I also tutor English online.
Yawn, right? Well, I'm not so sure. Maybe the actual minutiae of my work is boring, but I've noticed that people perk up as soon as I tell them one of my jobs is remote. "Really? I've thought about working online. What's that like?" I get asked enough that I thought a blog post might be helpful.
Bear in mind that this is entirely anecdotal, based 90% on my experiences and 10% on the experiences of others I know who work remotely. Different fields or jobs may not have the same pros or cons. And of course, my idea of a positive may seem negative to you or vice versa.
Pro #1: Yes, you can do it in your pajamas.
Tell people you work from home and I can almost guarantee that somebody will squeal with delight at the idea of working in their pajamas. I'm not going to pretend I never do this; I usually start my first online tutoring shift at 7:00am, wrapped up in my robe and slurping a cup of coffee.
That said, getting out of my pajamas to go to work never really bothered me. The real benefit here is that you don't have to buy special clothes. One of the most frustrating parts of being an adjunct professor is receiving very little compensation, but still being expected to wear dress clothes to work every day. I spent countless hours scouring thrift stores and consignment shops for slacks that still had all of their buttons and blouses without stains. There's no dress code when your clients can't see you, so I can wear whatever I want.
This also makes remote work a good option for some people with chronic illnesses, or people who live in areas with unpredictable weather. You don't have to leave your house to go to work.
Con #1: There are a million distractions.
I'm not even talking about the small children stampeding across the floor of the apartment above us. (Although, yes, that's pretty annoying when it goes on for hours at a time.) I'm talking about the fact that you are in your home, surrounded by lots of fun stuff you enjoy doing. Yeah, you should probably put in a few hours at work...but playing Call of Duty for a bit won't hurt!
And if you share your home with others, be prepared for them poking their head in to the room on the regular. One of the toughest parts of living with my parents before I moved here was doing quality work while my niece bounced on the couch to "The Number of the Day."
It helps if you're good at keeping yourself on a schedule. Even though I can technically work my remote job whenever I want as long as I reach my hours for that day, I've created a schedule for myself. I only deviate from this schedule when I'm too sick to do my shift or there's an emergency. If you're a procrastinator, then online work probably isn't for you. A friend of mine had to quit her online job after six months because she would put off working for most of the week, then have to pull 10 hour shifts on Friday and Saturday to hit her minimum hours.
Pro #2: You usually get to make your own schedule.
There are absolutely remote jobs that require you to log in and work a set shift. In my experience, however, a lot of online work gives you some autonomy. When I scored standardized tests, for example, I could work just about whenever I wanted and for as many hours a day as I wanted, provided I did at least 20 hours of scoring each week. With my current tutoring job, I'm given a set number of hours to complete each day, but I can complete them whenever I want during the day. That's why I'm able to work two jobs: my on-site job has a set schedule, but I can work around that schedule with my remote job.
This also means I can pick what days I have off. Right now, I work Sunday through Thursday. Working on Sunday may appall some people, but frankly, there's very little to do in a small town on a Sunday besides work. Having Fridays off makes it easier for me to attend to errands, since many businesses and government agencies are only open from 9 to 5 on weekdays. Lastly, most people do work on Friday, including my fiance. Hence, I have most of a very quiet day to my introverted self.
Con #2: It rarely pays as well as an on-site job.
Companies know that remote work is in high demand, so they take advantage of the market: they rarely offer full-time positions, and they don't pay remote workers what they're worth. Because I'm an experienced teacher with a Master's degree, my on-site job pays me an hourly wage that's commensurate with my experience. The remote job pays me roughly 2/3 that amount.
This applies to benefits as well: in my experience, online jobs are far less likely to offer part-time employees benefits. My friends who do remote work full time have told me that the benefits packages are not at all comparable to what they received from their on-site jobs.
Pro #3: It's mobile.
People who aren't educators tend to romanticize the whole "teachers get two months off!" thing. In reality, many teachers spend their summer teaching summer school, attending curriculum meetings, completing professional development courses, or figuring out ways to make money until they're back on contract in August. It's actually why I started scoring standardized tests in the first place: colleges almost never give adjuncts summer classes, and I had to pay the bills in June and July.
With remote work, I can earn money wherever I go, provided I bring along my personal computer and use a private internet connection. I don't have to take days off when I fly back to Pennsylvania to visit my family. Having a remote job also made it much easier for me to move across the country, and I'm not concerned about moving in the future. I know that wherever we end up, I'll be able to contribute financially.
Con #3: Very few people will respect your qualifications or accept that you are doing actual work.
Let's be fair: I think some of this is due to the fact that I'm an English teacher. I can't tell you how many times people have told me, "Well, my career isn't working out. I'll just become an English teacher!" When I ask, "Why English? Why not math or science?", the response is almost always, "Oh, those are hard, but I love to read!" Damn, I wish I DID get paid to sit around all day and read novels.
With a few exceptions, remote work usually requires just as much focus and hard work as an on-site job, perhaps even more. When I scored standardized tests, I was expected to read, analyze, and score a response every three or four minutes. As an online tutor, I'm usually allotted just half an hour to give writers an extensive critique of their work. I'm able to complete those tasks at such breakneck speeds because I've worked in the field for years, I can read very quickly, and I have a strong grasp of rhetorical strategies and English conventions. If you can't spot a pattern of grammatical errors in under a minute, then no, you probably can't do the same job. They can and will fire you if you go too slow.
There's also this perception that a lot of
online jobs are passive. Most of the
people who ask me about my remote work want to earn money while caring
for their children. If you plan on doing all of your work while your school-age children are in class, then sure, you'll be fine. But if, like most of the people who ask me, you want to work remotely while caring for a newborn, you might want to reconsider. You can get up from the computer for a minute to use the bathroom or fetch a snack and maintain your pace, but getting up to feed and settle down a crying baby will take too much time and energy.
The exception that comes to mind is a married couple I know. One of them is a graphic designer and the other is a web developer, so they create websites and advertisements for local businesses. As long as they reach their deadlines and keep their clients informed, they can work around their children with ease. Even then, there have been weeks when they were swamped and had to pay a babysitter to watch their children so they could complete a project on time.
In the end, it's up to you to decide what will be best for you and your lifestyle. For me, the pros of remote work outweigh the cons. While I wouldn't want to tutor online full time, it's a wonderful supplement to my hectic day job in adult education.
My blog's formula is usually 90% beauty, 10% miscellaneous junk. Clearly, this video sits in the miscellaneous bin. However, it's something I've wanted to talk about for a while, and there was a surprising amount of interest when I mentioned it on Instagram before going on hiatus. So here we are: the eight reasons why I don't want children.
The United States government has decided that most state IDs and licenses are no longer good enough for air travel, so I had to plonk down the money for a passport. Kirby already had one from his semester teaching in Norway. This gave us a great idea: if we've got it and we aren't yet on our super-restrictive post-move budget, let's use it. We visited Toronto this summer, making Canada the first foreign country I've ever visited. And while we saw a host of amazing historical sights and art venues, one of my personal favorites was the Bata Shoe Museum.
Like several other specialty museums in the city, the Bata Shoe Museum has a pay-what-you-can night on Thursday evenings; we gave them $5 Canadian for each of us. It was absolutely worth it! The museum is far larger than I thought it would be and, if you're interested in historical fashion, it's a goldmine. Foot binding has interested me for years, and when you see how tiny the shoes are in real life, you'll understand why: that second picture is Kirby's hand over a pair of "lotus shoes" for scale.
My one disappointment about the museum is that some specimens, like theses incredibly rare Chimu shoes, were hard to photograph with the glass cases and the many lights reflecting off of them. That's a common issue in museums, though, and I'd rather they preserve the specimens than leave them in the open air for people to grope. (That happened in the Royal Ontario Museum, by the way: some middle-aged couple ran their hands all over an ancient piece of statuary from India and I just about lost my shit.)
It's also worth mentioning that you could spot a lot of modern trends in these very old shoes. Just look at the pointed toes and embellishments on these Italian heels from the 1660s: don't we seen similar shoes in Barney's today?
Speaking of Barney's...
Somehow, we managed to miss a lot of fascinating exhibits that were in Toronto before or after our visit, including my favorite living artist's recent piece "Infinity Mirrors." (SOB) and Toronto Pride (DOUBLE SOB). But it just so happened that the Bata Shoe Museum was showcasing a collection of Manolo Blahnik shoes. Hence, I spent an hour surrounded by dozens and dozens of Blahniks, the type of shoe I once promised I'd buy myself when I still wore high heels. While I've always admired Blahnik's work, I didn't realize just how much range he had until I walked through this exhibit.
Manolo Blahnik: The Art of Shoes will be open until January 6, 2019. If you want a rare opportunity to see some beautiful and historic footwear (and I'm not just talking about the Blahniks here), the Bata Shoe Museum is well worth a Thursday evening trip.
I am far from an Excel wizard. Rather, I'm the person who constantly opens Excel by accident when she's really trying to update a PowerPoint for class, leading to much wailing and gnashing of teeth as I wait for the program to load so I can immediately close it again. To be fair, I've only met a couple of people I would call actual Excel wizards, and they had a lot of classes on the program so they could use it for business or accounting purposes. I've only ever used it for gradebooks and other basic record keeping, so...not as much column calculating there.
That said, Excel can create really easy to read makeup inventories for you, even if you're not that tech savvy. Heck, I've even used it to track spending. You just have to know how to fiddle with the templates a little.
To find this template, I started a new Excel file, then searched for "inventory." While there are lots of lovely options, this "Home Inventory" with green accents really appealed to me and looked like it would the easiest thing to modify. After all, normal people document what's in their house for insurance purposes. Weirdos like me document the exorbitant number of lipsticks they've collected over the past few years.
Now we have to remove the stuff we don't need. This is pretty easy, actually: you just left click at the top left corner of the columns/rows you want to remove, hold down shift, then click on the bottom right corner. You should see it highlight the area you've selected. Let go of shift, then press delete to erase the text. If you don't want that actual space taken up, you can right click on the highlighted area and choose "Delete..."; you just might have to fiddle with four "Shift" and "Move" options it gives you.
Learn to love the undo button (the arrow at the top of the Excel toolbar) and the save button, by the way, because if you're new to this, you'll do what I do and mess up frequently.
I did the same thing with any columns I didn't want, like "Purchase Price"--I thought the value bars on the "Estimated Current Value" column were cooler and more helpful. (Mostly cooler.) Just select the column, right click, choose "Delete," "Table Columns."
Quick reminder: columns are vertical, rows are horizontal. I'm not trying to be insulting by writing that. It's something I actually have to pause and think about for a second every damn time, and maybe you're the same way.
Now let's talk about inserting rows. There's apparently a super easy keyboard way to do this, but I suck at doing it, sooooo we're gonna right click. Go to the far left side of the spreadsheet and click on one of the gray number boxes; any one will do as long as it is next to a row in your inventory. Right click and select "Insert." This should create a new row above the one you had selected.
From here on out, it's just a matter of renaming things and filling out the spreadsheet. The nice thing about this template is it will create a new, easily selectable, yellow category box you put in that "Room/Area" drop down box. I ended up with just four categories because that's what works for me, but you could create as many as you wanted.
This template also calculates a "total value" if you plug everything in to that column. Mine made me die a little inside, since I can imagine what else I would get for $1500+. That said, it's also less than I thought I'd own, so...progress?
If you don't like this template, fiddle with the others! I actually tried two others before I settled on this one. And if you're one of those fantastic Excel wizards, we'd love any of your tips and tricks for optimizing our inventory-making experiences.
Even if you're one of those normal people who inventories their house instead of their beauty products. It's okay. We still like you.
At a glance, it might seem that the "Fear of Missing Out" (or "FOMO") best fits social scenarios. It's second nature for our generation to gush about nights out with our friends on Facebook and post pictures of that amazing bonfire or that life-changing seminar on Instagram, knowing full well that our friends who weren't there might see these posts and feel like they missed out. But FOMO also drives consumerism, and it's become a powerful marketing ploy that can be hard to shake.
Logically, we know this. We know brands are going to make every product seem like the end-all-be-all, launch limited edition collections, and have two-day-only sales to get us to impulse purchase. People are much more aware of these tactics these days. And retailers have realized we're aware and are using it to their advantage, like when Sephora created a "NOFOMO" coupon code. It's like they're saying, "We so get that you're trying to be fiscally responsible! ...so we're giving you a coupon that will give you more."
But really, it's the same trick in different wrapping paper. They offer you two deluxe samples instead of the usual one-per-coupon because, hey, they wouldn't want you to experience that FOMO.
One of the creepiest things websites do, particularly beauty retailers, is email you if you walk away from your online shopping cart. To get you to come back and make that purchase, they imply that you've earned more products ("Shouldn't this be yours?") or, like the Sephora ad above, tap in to your FOMO. This ad outright suggests that I might miss out on Makeup Forever HD foundation...despite the fact that it's one of the brand's best-selling products, it's not limited edition, and the new formula was only recently released, so nyooooo, it's not going anywhere. Nice try, Sephora.
Again, logically, we can spot this, and we usually talk ourselves out of it in ten seconds flat. But don't you experience this with limited edition products, too? I'm not gonna lie, when MAC had another limited edition release and Nordstrom emailed me about a lipstick I'd let sit in my online cart for a day, the whole "it's selling out quickly!" bit almost got to me. I was able to talk myself out of it by going through my lipstick collection and realizing I already own several similar shades, and by reminding myself that I have a fuckton of lipstick. The point, though, is that even the most obvious marketing scare tactics can get to us. Brands are here to make money, and they know how to do it.
A more insidious and uncomfortable marketing tactic in beauty advertisements is the implication that overspending is always justifiable. Sometimes it's very subtle: the above B-Glowing ad doesn't mention bills or money, but it does say that "there's always room for more." On top of the obvious suggestion that it's a decadence worth overindulging, it's also subtly pointing to the fact that makeup takes up relatively little space. Okay, maybe you don't need another blush, but it's only $25, and it barely takes up any room! What's the harm?
I justified a lot of unnecessary purchases with that train of thought. That's one of the reasons why I've told myself I'm only allowed to own all of my current lipsticks if they can lay flat in one of my organizer drawers. Setting a really specific space goal for myself limits how much more I can bring in. Yeah, each lipstick is small compared to a book or a shirt, but that drawer space is finite.
Now, you'd think that the ads that outright mention overspending would be more stomach-churning than effective. The problem seems to be that they're written in cute little phrases that make light of a potentially harmful shopping addiction. Most of us have wasted money on something we really didn't need instead of putting it in our savings or paying off a bill; brands know this, and they use it to tap in to a sort of "we all oopsy-daisy sometimes" togetherness. The above ad from Honest Beauty's Instagram makes a joke out of an apparent lack of impulse control. And I've seen plenty of ads that chortled about how bills are adding up and the house is falling apart, but "at least my lipstick looks great."
I think this bothers me so much because it's a tactic I only see aimed at women. Ads for men's products definitely feed male insecurities about attractiveness and sexual prowess, but I don't see many ads aimed at men that say, "This want-not-need product is way more important to me than dealing with the responsibilities of an adult life, tee hee, aren't I silly!" Why is that? And why are so susceptible to it, even when it's rather insulting?
Stupid Little Things is all about the random cheapies, odd tricks, and miscellaneous things that make my day.
I burn like a lobster, so keeping a stash of top-notch sunscreens is second nature to me now. (Let me know if an updated "sunscreen collection" post would be useful, by the by--I have no idea if that helps anybody.) But most sunscreens lose their potency after two years. I can't risk it, so I've labeled my sunscreens, listing the month and year they were opened. Originally, I did this with masking tape; it was cheap, easy, and readily available.
The problem with masking tape, though, is that it's a bit wider than I'd like; it took up a wee bit too much space on smaller bottles. The Sharpie I used to write out the dates also tended to bleed if it came in to contact with water, and since I like to go to the lake, my sunscreens bump up against a lot of water. And on a purely aesthetic level, it looks kinda crappy.
So I bought myself a label maker. There are a slew of options on the market; DYMO alone sells a half dozen models. Some of them are over $75 because they allow you to create bar codes, change the label font, and print up to four lines of text. My needs are pretty basic, though, so I went with the cheapest model: the LM160, which you can bundle with two extra tape cassettes for $20. (I use rechargeable AAAs in mine, but if you want something with a built-in rechargeable battery, the LM280 is still relatively affordable and has the same basic functionality.)
I love this stupid thing. The 1/2" tape is the perfect size for most of my bottles and tubes, including even the tiniest containers of face sunscreen. I've also marked opened-on dates for my new foundations, and I've labeled most of my travel bottles. When your face cleanser, body wash, hair conditioner, and moisturizer are all a creamy white color, labeling is almost a matter of life and death. I've accidentally used hair conditioner on my face before and that shit stings when it gets in your eyes.
I don't just label beauty products, though. I've labeled my closet, which has always had a rough order, but now has broad categories. (Yes, the closet is very banged up. I live in an old house.) I've put my name on the insides of my textbooks, on my bag of white erase markers, and on my wireless USB mouse, since those items often go mysteriously missing from the teacher's desk, but the mystical power of a last name seems to scare off potential thieves. I used to write my first name and phone number on my bus passes, but now that they've switched from paper punch cards to reloadable plastic cards, I've slapped a DYMO label on it instead. My tech-obsessed dad borrowed it to label remotes and wires for his home entertainment system. (I also tagged his pillbox with the words "shitbag programmer," which he finds hilarious. We have a weird sense of humor.) I've labeled samples for friends and family members. I've loaned it out to people keeping track of their storage boxes. Seriously, I get way more use out of this thing than I ever thought I would.
That said, I will make one recommendation: get the extra tape. The cassette that came with the machine lasted way longer than I expected, and I'm only on my second cassette, but you can definitely run through them in record time if you're making a ton of labels.
I spend a lot of time fussing over the skin on my face. I fuss for a variety of reasons: because I'm often mistaken for a college student instead of a college professor, so I want my face to look clean and professional; because I've fought chronic hives for years and the itchy, unsightly buggers completely torpedo my self confidence; because I am, frankly, a little vain and I want to have clear skin. But for some reason, I haven't fussed as much over my neck and chest.
It's not like I ignore these two areas entirely. After cleansing, I always run a little moisturizer over my neck and rub it in, and I lotion up my chest with body cream. If I have a bad blemish on my throat, I'll use a bit of spot treatment. I exfoliate my body from time to time. And when I'm applying sunscreen, I make sure I'm completely covered with SPF.
But it's a sign of how much more I care about my face versus my neck and chest that I buy separate sunscreens for my face, then just use whatever spray or lotion I have handy from the chin down. I exfoliate, hydrate, and serum my face on the regular, but I stop at the edges of my jaw. I notice the deep lines in my neck, developed from years of staring down at books and student papers, but I don't do anything to fix it.
So I think I'm going to spend more time appreciating my neck and chest. I'm going to start cheap, of course--baby steps, guys! There's a slew of skincare samples that I can't use on my face, for example, but that should be safe on the rest of my body, so I'll be using some serums and oils and moisturizers on my throat and decollete. When I exfoliate, I'll be sure to bring the product down my neck. I think my regular body sunscreens still work best for covering large swaths of skin, but I'll treat my throat to the elegant sunscreen milks I usually reserve for my face.
I've been doing this for a few days now, and it feels amazing. Packets of Dr. Hauschka's Regenerating Serum, sample tubs of stupidly expensive Algenist moisturizers, and a few First Aid Beauty Facial Radiance Pads have given my neck and chest a bit of a glow-up. It's probably a silly, somewhat boojie exercise that probably won't actually improve my skin in the long run, but damn, is it relaxing.
For the past few months, I've also knocked around the idea of using self-tanner on my neck so it better matches my face. After annoying everybody with the "BUT MY NECK IS SO WHITE!" comments, it seems like my best option is the Clarins Liquid Bronze, so I'll likely use my last Sephora gift card for that bad boy. (Yes, I've checked out the awesomely cheap drugstore options like Jergens, but when I tested them, they seemed to turn...really orange.)
If you have any recommendations for taking better care of your neck and chest, let me know. I'm turning 30 soon, I'm getting more serious about my skincare, and I'm ready to try new things.
Let's give it up for Kirby being my Vanna White for the day!
I mentioned possibly writing a post about what Kirby and I take on our outdoor day trips, and I received a surprising amount of "That'd be awesome!"-type comments. So here it is: a quick overview of what we like to pack! This is the stuff that keeps us fed, dry, and safe from ticks while we take long walks through the forest or faff about on a canoe.
An important note: this is what we pack for a casual day trip in a safe, well-populated, well-maintained state park. It is not enough for more intense outdoor activities, like a weekend hike through the mountains. Always read up on the necessary equipment for a longer or more intense trip.
If you're hiking in the Appalachians for a week or completing a 70 mile bike ride across Pennsylvania's more rugged terrain, you probably have some of the best equipment on the market, including a top-of-the-line backpack. I do not. I have a backpack that I bought for $5 at my local Goodwill. I give zero shits about the fact that it's pink or a "Polo" product; I care that it has tons of pockets, is lightweight, and is super easy to clean. (I scrub mine down with lukewarm water and Dr. Bronner's soap.)
Most thrift stores I've visited have an entire box full of cheap backpacks for you to sift through, many of them in like new condition. If that's not an option, stalk the stores shortly after the school year begins and see if any of the backpacks go on sale, or check in at an army surplus store. Last, but not least, you can give a shout on social media and see if anybody has a spare backpack they'd give you. A few of my older friends with high school aged children say that their kids change backpacks every year, so they've often got an extra bag stuffed in a corner.
Now for the goods in the bag!
A tarp. Most public parks have picnic tables, but sometimes, we just want to sit out on the grass. Yeah, a picnic blanket is prettier and more romantic, but it won't keep your butt dry if the ground is still wet from a recent rainstorm. Tarps are also easy to clean and cheap to buy; this 5'x7' blue one cost me about $10.
A map. All of the public parks in my area provide free maps. You can also print one out before you leave the house.
Extra socks. It doesn't matter if you plan on going in or even near the water: there's the possibility your feet will get sopping wet, and few things are more uncomfortable than wet socks. I always pack an extra pair for each of us. If we're actually going swimming (which almost never happens, since Kirby isn't a fan), I bring an entire change of clothes, my swimsuit, and a towel.
Sandals, if we're canoeing (not pictured). You often have to step in to the water a bit to get in and out of your canoe, and my graceful self always manages to splash water in to the boat.
A poncho. We avoid rain like the plague, but you never know in Western Pennsylvania. A poncho is easier than an umbrella, since it leaves your hands free.
Plastic freezer bags. We keep a few of these in the backpack so we can keep a few essentials in the canoe without worrying about them getting wet. And by "essentials," I mean "my phone," since I keep forgetting to buy a cheap-o watch so we can return our rented canoe on time. I really need to get an actual water-resistant case when I have the chance, I know.
Bug repellent. I draw mosquitoes like no other and Kirby is terrified of ticks, so we always coat ourselves in bug spray. We've been using Off! Deep Woods VIII for a while now and are relatively impressed with it. It reeks to high Heaven, but it does a pretty good job of keeping most bugs away from us and it doesn't feel heavy or greasy on our skin and clothes.
While we don't usually go on longer hikes, and we're generally good about staying on the designated walking paths outlined by the parks department, I'm still in the habit of bringing a little extra safety equipment. Pictured above: an LED headlamp, a compass, a lighter, and a safety knife. Altogether, this equipment cost me less than $20 and was totally worth it to ease my paranoid mind.
Not pictured is the small-but-powerful LED flashlight, chemical mace, and safety whistle I have on my key chain. If you're going to bring a whistle in case you get lost or hurt, make sure you bring an actual safety whistle; mine is a Shoreline Marine whistle that cost me a couple of bucks and can be heard for several miles. The basic whistle code is one whistle to announce your location, two as a call back, three to call for help.
There's also an assortment of first aid stuff that we keep in a Glossier pouch. Yes, you read that right: we use a Glossier pouch. It has nothing to do with them being "cute" or "hip;" they're just the right size, lightly padded, and easily replaced if they get damaged.
Inside the pouch:
Tampons, because I have a uterus and whatnot.
Bandaids and Neosporin. Despite being supremely clumsy, I almost never get cuts when we're in the woods, but better safe than sorry. Hilariously, I actually use Neosporin more on my cat's popped chin pimples than on myself.
Benadryl Cream. We pack this for two reasons. One, lakes are full of bugs, and even with an extreme amount of bug spray on our personages, we can still get bit. Two, I have trouble with chronic hives that can appear out of nowhere. Both are horribly itchy situations that can ruin a trip, so we nip the itch in the bud with this ointment.
A hairbrush. This cheap, plastic brush was given to my partner by the airport when they misplaced his luggage. Stylish? No. Comfortable? Not really. Effective? Eh, it works well enough if I topple out of the canoe and have to brush out my wet hair to prevent tangles.
Body Glide. I've written an entire post about this stuff, I love it so much, so definitely check that out for more details. I'll just add this: I won't go on any sort of walk, vacation, or day trip without Body Glide these days, and my chubby thighs are eternally grateful.
Moleskin. Getting in to hiking and boating exposed me to moleskin, and holy shit, how did I not know about this stuff before? Basically, it's soft cotton padding, usually sold with an adhesive back so you can adhere it to your skin. What do you use it for? Blisters. Guys, this stuff is fucking mana in the wilderness if you have a blister and you want to stop the rubbing. Maybe I'm being a bit intense, but trust me, it's essential if you're spending time outdoors. You can sometimes buy moleskin that comes in pre-cut little circles, but we usually buy the full pads and cut it to size.
A nail kit, primarily for the tweezers and the scissors. These are useful for splinters and cutting moleskin, respectively.
Ibuprofen 800mgs. We rarely use these on the trip itself, since we stay home if one of us gets a bad headache, but again, better safe than sorry. I actually had to pop one on a trip last month because my period snuck up on me, and I started having back pain on the way to the lake. 20 minutes after popping one of these, I was pain-free and ready to row.
Extra sunscreen. We always slather on a thick layer of Blue Lizard Sensitive before leaving the house, and that will hold us for our walk and our picnic. If we're going to be outside for more than a couple of hours, though, we obviously have to touch-up, and that's easiest with a travel-size spray. We're currently using Banana Boat Sun Comfort, since it was one of the few sprays to get an "excellent" rating from the most recent Consumer Report. (NOTE: Again, Kirby and I usually don't go swimming; if you do, you may want to make sure your sunscreen has marine life-friendly filters.) I'm also carrying the Sun Bum SPF30 lip balm. I don't love it, but it's cheap, so, I mean...I won't weep if it gets ruined. In the bag it goes.
Kirby and I are also the picnicking sort...and even if you aren't, you should probably bring some food if you plan on being out for more than an hour or two. You should also eat a filling, but not too heavy, breakfast. My personal favorite? Oatmeal. It's so damn easy to make, very filling, and provides plenty of energy.
The basic oatmeal recipe is one part rolled oats to two parts liquid, but you can of course add extras to spice it up. My pre-hike oatmeal for the two of is 2/3 cup of oats, 1 1/3 cups of unsweetened vanilla almond milk, 2 tablespoons of chia seeds, and 2 tablespoons of brown sugar. Pour it all in to a pot and stir it regularly over medium-low heat until the oats soften and the liquid thickens. I like to top that with a cup of fresh blueberries and chopped strawberries for each of us.
For lunch, I try to once again focus on "filling, but not heavy." I drop some reusable ice packs in to the cooler, then add sandwiches (a half for me, a whole for Kirby), a beverage for each of us, some raw vegetables with ranch or hummus for dipping, small containers of nuts, and a yogurt for each of us. I also throw in a fiber bar for each of us on the long car ride home. I fill a plastic freezer bag with ice, then put our water bottles on top. (The bonus with this method? You can steal some ice cubes out of the bag and drop them in your bottles if the water starts to heat up throughout the day.) These Brita bottles are nice if you plan on refilling them at the park and the water fountains are a bit suspect, but honestly, I just like them because they're soft and easy to squeeze.
I should note that we almost never eat everything I pack. On this trip, for instance, I didn't eat my yogurt and Kirby didn't touch his cashews, so we just took them home. Always dispose of your trash properly!
Last, washable hats! I highly recommend a hat with a brim that goes all the way around, like mine, so you can get some extra protection on your ears and the back of your neck as well. Kirby is addicted to his baseball hat, though, and that's better than nothing. "Washable" is key, because these get covered in sweat and sunscreen throughout the day, and we purposely blast them with bug spray to keep the gnats and flies off of our faces. It works, but at the end of the day, they are beyond smelly. All we have to day is toss them in the washer on a delicate cycle and hang them to dry.
So that's what a couple of filthy casuals like us takes on a day trip outdoors. If you think we're missing something incredibly important, or you have a few favorites of your own for outdoor adventures, please let us know! We're considering saving up for prescription sunglasses, for instance--any thoughts on that investment?
Shortly before I went on my summer break, I invited you guys to ask me almost anything you wanted. I ended up getting an amazing assortment of questions, ranging from "What's your favorite ____?" to "What the fuck is with that weird picture on Instagram stories?" I've gathered everything from Instagram, private messages, emails, and blog comments, and now I think I've got our answers! Thanks again to everyone who participated.
Social Media and Blogging
What's up with that "two braids" hairstyle you wear to bed?
Okay, I had to show you guys this, because I usually go to bed with these two braids, and it's just so dippy looking. That said, I've been braiding my hair before bed for years because it prevents tangles. I let my hair air dry, brush it out, braid it, sleep, and wake up with easy-to-brush out locks. Because I started getting my hair cut in layers, though, it's impossible to get the shorter strands braided unless I separate them. Hence, one braid for the short layers, one braid for the long layers.
Did...did you cut the top off of that potato chip bag?
I always do this when I get toward the bottom of a bag of chips. I hate having to reach way down in to the bag to get a handful; it crinkles too much and it makes my hand super greasy. #firstworldproblems
What makes a review compelling for you? What are the things you want to know and find useful?
Before I answer, let me make it clear that I'm not trying to call out any particular person or shit on somebody else's blogging style. I know my overly-sharpened product photos and close-up shots of my nose hairs are not to everybody's taste, and that's totally fine. You do you! Like anybody else, I just have my personal preferences.
First, I am attracted to nice photos. They don't necessarily have to be SUPAH AMAZING HD; they just have to be thoughtful and interesting. Second, I like blog posts that are helpful. If you're reviewing a foundation, but the only photos in your review are a picture of the bottle and a super-far-away-from-your-skin model-type shot of you on a windowsill, I mean...that doesn't help me much. I need a before-and-after, or some swatches, or a close-up of the texture on your skin. I need to see how the product performs. Third, I need to see some attempt to find the good in a product you hate or the bad in a product you love. I think that's my job influencing me: I'm very big on teaching students that 99% of viewpoints will always have a logical counter-argument. Sure, some products just outright suck, but I find those are few and far between. And yeah, you love that foundation or that lipstick, but who might dislike it? What could be some possible downsides?
HOW IS YOUR SKIN SO PERFECT?!
It's not. It's very good skin, I will not deny it, and that's a mixture of genetics, being as careful with skincare and makeup products as I can be, and trying to have a decent diet. But my face is not perfect. Remember that most of my selfies on Instagram are showing my skin at its absolute best (if I'm makeup-less) or are me wearing makeup. I deal with chronic hives, my skin is regularly itchy or reactive, and I do break out. Nobody's skin is perfect. (Well, almost nobody. We all know that one unicorn who treats their body like shit and still looks like a porcelain doll.)
I've realized, though, that when people say this, they're often referring to the texture of my skin. It's relatively smooth and my pores are not visible. Two things contribute to this:
1. Exfoliation: I use 10% AHA once every two weeks and a gentle physical exfoliant once or twice a week.
2. My skin is dry as a bone. The pores are so tiny because nothing comes out of them. You win some, you lose some!
Work Stuff
What subject do you teach?
In broad terms: "English" and "Humanities." More specifically, I teach writing and rhetoric 95% of the time. I've taught literature once, which was really fun, and I've been scheduled to teach speech, though the classes have never filled up. I've also offered to teach classes like "Critical Thinking," which just seems like the most amazing opportunity to instruct a class subtitled "Miss Renee's Random Class of Cool Shit." But believe it or not, teaching composition is my favorite.
Do you plan on staying in academia and being a professor for life?
This answer will upset or depress some of you, so I apologize in advance. My only intention is to answer you honestly. A few people asked this and specifically mentioned that they want to be academics, too, and I want to say that I wish you the best of luck with your endeavors.
Yes, my goal was to be a professor. I love teaching young adults and helping them improve their writing; I love showing them how to conduct research properly, carefully consider their viewpoints, and engage in constructive dialogues with others. As corny as it sounds, I've always felt that teaching wasn't just my job, but my vocation--I was born to do it.
The unfortunate reality, however, is that higher education is becoming adjunctified, especially with regards to the arts and humanities. College costs are rising, but the number of full-time positions is declining. With a few exceptions, adjuncts are paid very little, have no job security, are almost powerless to enact change in their departments, and do not receive benefits. I don't receive any sick days, for example, despite the fact that I'm a professional, and I do not receive health insurance or the guarantee of work. Opportunities to advance and obtain a full-time position are rare, and as someone who stopped at her MA and focused more on teaching than research, I'm at the bottom of the pile when candidates are reviewed. As much as I love teaching, and as valuable as I think it is, I simply cannot continue living this way. Hence, I've been trying to find work in other fields.
What's the biggest misconception people have about professors?
Oh, God, I could pick a dozen, ranging from "Professors love to flunk students" (you earn your grade and I hate typing that 'F' in to my gradebook) to "Professors take forever to grade because they're lazy" (100 papers x 25 minutes per paper = 2500 minutes, or ~41.7 hours of grading). If I had to pick the biggest one, though, it's "Professors are all uber-elite snobs living luxe lives on fat paychecks."
I think people get this misconception from two things. One, many of the most visible academics are people existing in the top 50% of the field. The experts you see on CNN, the ones who are quoted in NPR articles, the guys recruited for Big Think videos? They're usually the rockstars, and they make good money. Two, people see six figure salaries listed on sites like Glassdoor. They don't realize that these numbers generally include almost all colleges, including schools like Harvard and Columbia that pay big bucks, and they often include all types of higher education faculty or exclude adjuncts. Adjuncts are separate on Glassdoor, for instance, and the data is really sparse.
It's also a little misleading: they list "hourly" wages, but in my experience, most adjunct positions are paid by the credit hour, not actual working hours. For instance: if adjuncts are paid $700 per credit hour, and you teach two 3 credit classes, you're making $4200 before taxes for the entire semester's work. You are not getting paid $700 per hour.
Favorite Things
You talked about Basquiat, and it seems you love art. Who are your favorite artists?
Yayoi Kusama on the left, Leonora Carrington on the right.
THIS IS A VERY CRUEL QUESTION.
I really do love art; going to the free galleries in Pittsburgh and eating Millie's Ice Cream is my idea of a hot date. But if I had to pick one living artist and one deceased artist, I'd go with Yayoi Kusama and Leonora Carrington. Kusama's pieces always feel so dream-like to me, and Carrington had that perfect mix of surrealism, fairytales, and creepy shit that I love.
PS: If you got to see Yayoi Kusama's "Infinity Mirrors" in person, I envy you.
Coffee or tea?
99% of the time, I am all about coffee. I drink a cup every morning, I make my own cold-brew in a mason jar cause Just Hipster Things, and I am honestly a little perturbed when I can't have my morning coffee for some reason. I'm very routine-oriented and coffee-addicted.
BUT! I stick to decaf green tea with loads of honey when I have any kind of cold, flu, or sinus infection, and I have recently become addicted to the Dunkin' Donuts iced berry hibiscus tea. I am forever pissed that Dunkin' Donuts doesn't have a product page for it on their website.
Favorite makeup item ever?
Ahahaha, I so want to cheat on this one and pick an entire category of makeup, like, "If I could only have one piece of makeup for the rest of my life, it'd be a great concealer!" But I know that's cheating.
Instead, I'm going to list the products I have depended on for years and would immediately repurchase if they spontaneously combusted or fell out of my bag or whatever. If you've been here for a while, you're going to recognize pretty much all of these, so I apologize in advance.
Shu Uemura Hard Formula Brow Pencil in Seal Brown. There is no pencil more perfect in all this world, seriously. It's pretty much impossible to overdo, so you can get a natural look with a few strokes or layer it for fuller brows. Also, this shit lasts forever because it's such a hard formula. I have decided that if it outlives me, I'll pass it down to my niece. (I'm not joking.)
MAC Face & Body Foundation. No matter how many other foundations I try, I always come back to Face & Body. I always get compliments on my skin, not my makeup, when I wear this one. The only thing that sucks? How fussy it is. I have to mix in the White shade to get a good color match, you really want to pat it in to your skin, it takes a few minutes to set, etc.
MAC Strobe Cream. It was tough for me to pick just one highlighter, believe me, but I think this is the one I'd miss the most. That's probably because I don't just use it as a cheek highlight: I also use it under my brows, under my foundation, mixed in to my foundation, on my shoulders for date night...honestly, there are probably 50 other ways I could use this stuff, so I'm going to stop.
Favorite book?
Once again, this is a dirty question. I can't pick just one, and I don't even think I'd say, "Oh, these are my favorites." But I will say these books occupy a special place in my heart.
"Memoirs of a Geisha," by Arthur Golden. I know it's a big cringey, but I've read this book about a dozen times, and I've enjoyed it every time. The main character, Sayuri, lives a fascinating life, but the rivalry between Hatsumomo and Mameha is what makes the novel. Don't take this book as a 100% accurate account of how geisha live(d), though, and read some non-fiction for more context.
"House of Leaves," by Mark Z. Danielewski. I originally read this book because Danielewski is Poe's brother. Then I read it because it was an absolutely wonderful mixture of horror, humor, and romance. It's also full of wonky pages that pissed off my friend when I selected it for our "Modern Gothic Literature" independent study, which is a funny bonus.
"Madeleine is Sleeping," by Sarah Shun-Lien Bynum. I first read this book when I was in highschool because the title intrigued me and I like almost anything that deals with the circus. It quickly became one of my favorite pieces of magical realism.
"In a Grove," by Ryonusuke Akutagawa. This is technically a short story, but whatevah, I do what I want. If I had to recommend just one short story to people, it'd be this masterpiece, which forces readers to consider what is truth, why humans lie, and why we believe some people more than others. As a funny sidenote, I assign this one to my students, and trying to figure out who committed the murder drives them nuts.
"We Should All Be Feminists," by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Again, this is technically an essay that's printed in a 50 page book with large font and big paragraph breaks. However, it's a truly wonderful essay. My favorite part is where she breaks down negative reactions to feminism, like "Women can get what they want by using their sexuality." The essay comes from this amazing Ted Talk.
I'm just now realizing that I may have misunderstood this question. I thought it meant, "How does not living in a city impact your makeup habits?", but now I realize it could be, "How does living close to a city impact your makeup habits?"
Just to clarify, I live in the suburbs, less than 30 miles away from Pittsburgh. Hence, the city is convenient enough for me to visit regularly, but not convenient enough for me to just pop in for an hour or two on a daily basis. Bus rides usually take less than an hour due to traffic and multiple stops, and I'm fine with that.
I think there are two main ways this has impacted me. For one, when I go to the city with friends, I often make beauty products part of the day. There are multiple freestanding Sephoras in Pittsburgh, for instance, which I don't have in my suburb. So when we go to the city to see a show, or visit another friend, or eat dinner, we like to take an hour just walking around Sephora and playing with products. If I really want a product and it's only available in the city, I can get it; I just have to plan a bit.
It's also made me more keen to shop online. I can be very socially awkward, and I like to brood over my purchases, which I think makes sales associates nervous, especially in a busy environment where they're watching dozens of customers at once. And of course, with very few large beauty retailers next to my hometown, there are a lot of products that are only available to me online. This includes my Verb hair mist and my Glossier products: Verb isn't sold in my Sephora in JCP, and unlike a few of my friends in NYC, I can't catch a Lyft to the Glossier showroom. (When I go to NYC, though, I definitely browse the many beauty offerings and make a purchase or two. Make glittery hay while the sun is shining on your boutique sunscreen, or whatever.)
In your experience, have the different areas you've lived in or visited had different makeup cultures?
Oh, absolutely. For instance, when I visited Hawaii, I was struck by the differences. You'd see a Caucasian woman who was tanned as much as possible and wearing warm, bronzey makeup, and right next to her would be an Asian woman holding a UV umbrella with some pale, dewy foundation and little else visible. It was weirdly cool.
The biggest difference for me, though, was when I moved to the upper midwest for a few years. Almost nobody wore visible makeup, and if they did, it was just eyeliner and mascara unless they were going out for a night. A few of my students wore more full-on stuff, like foundation and highlighter, but it was pretty rare. Meanwhile, my friend from California and I would walk around with bright red lipstick, multi-colored eyeshadow, glittery cheeks...we kind of stuck out. I'm not saying we were the only ones who wore a lot of obvious makeup on the regular, but at least where we were living, we were some of the few.
What's something you're looking forward to?
Well, eventually, I'm gonna marry this guy:
So that's pretty cool.
I'm also damn excited for my niece to start talking. She's in the babbling stage and I'm trying to teach her to say "Dump Trump," but it's more likely her first word will be "mum" or "dance." Eh, I'll take what I can get.
People have strong feelings about feet or anything feet-adjacent, so if this post makes you recoil and run away from the blog screaming, I understand. But I've studied and prepped for this post for so long because...well, for one thing, I think it's interesting. More importantly, though, I absolutely love this pair of shoes, and I think they deserve all of my preservation efforts.
This is a pair of Dr. Martens sandals. I can't remember the exact style name because I purchased them back in graduate school; the Doc Martens website was having a sale one January to clear out summer styles, and I happened to snag the last pair of these sandals in my size for $35. I do recall the style name starting with an A, and it may have been something like "Alena" or "Alia." Regardless, I bought them cheap eons ago and they no longer produce this style.
Did I mention that I purchased these back in graduate school? Yeah, these guys are at least 5 years old. That's a long lifespan for shoes, especially sandals! So given that this pair has lived a long, healthy life, why bother trying to scrub the mucky things out?
Ignore the absolutely vile footbeds on these for a second and just look at the rest of the shoe. I've worn these for a good 8 months of the year every year I've had them, and they've been almost everywhere. They've visited cities, flown on planes, taken long walks through the park, and clocked in at numerous grocery stores and restaurants. Yet despite all of that, if you ignore the footbed, they look practically brand new. The rubber and stitching on the bottom don't have any obvious scratches, discoloration, or scuffs. And even though I've worn these on rainy days a-plenty, somehow, the plaid fabric is spotless.
Now, I want to point out that I treat all of my Docs with their Protector Spray, which helps prevent damage from water and sunlight. (Note: I also like their Wonder Balsam, and I use that and the spray on the few leather goods I own.) Still, it's unusual for a pair of sandals to look this damn spotless after so many years and so much wear.
Except for those footbeds. Those dirty, icky, footbeds, the footbeds that not only have a clear indent of my feet due to constant wear, but also rock an unsightly layer of caked-on grime. I couldn't take it anymore: these shoes deserve better. Unaware of the existence of actual footbed cleaner, I spent months scouring websites, magazines, and shoe boxes to figure out the best method for cleaning these guys up.
The most recommended tools were a toothbrush, some water with dish soap, and a damp paper towel or soft cloth. All of these items were readily available to me, including extra toothbrushes; my family always has a pack of the cheapo "6 for $1" brushes under the sink for scrubbing grout in the bathroom or on the windowsills. I put a few drops of Palmolive in a cup, added some lukewarm water, set my sandals on the side porch, and started scrubbing out my shoes. I initially used a back-and-forth motion, but quickly switched to small circles, which worked even better.
After scrubbing just the heel portion of one sandal, I pulled up all of the dirt you see in the above picture. I was actually stunned that this was working and that my footbeds were that scummy. I mean, subconsciously, I had to know, but...seeing it was weird.
After finished the left shoe, I ran a damp paper towel all over the footbed to rinse off the soap and pull up a little extra dirt. I also got a fresh cup of soapy water to prep for the right shoe.
Comparison photo time! The shoe on the left went through one round of gentle scrubbing, while the shoe on the right was untouched. Was the soaped-up footbed the soft, creamy beige shade it was when I first pulled my sandals from their box? Hell no, but it was clearly cleaner. Actually, I think this photo doesn't truly exemplify how much cleaner the shoe on the left is: the indents from my feet make some areas more shadowy than others, as does the fact that the bed is still a bit damp. The one bummer was that I couldn't remove the sap stain from the left heel, but hey, small victories!
I finished both shoes and left them on the side porch to dry out of direct sunlight. After they'd dried several hours later,I did another round of scrubbing and drying. At the end of the day, I was suitably impressed with how much nicer the footbeds looked and how much cleaner they felt. Again, the shadows play some tricks here, and they're not like new, anyway, but you can see in this photograph that they look leagues better:
Two final notes: first, scrubbing the footbeds of your sandals can cause some texture changes. A few articles mentioned using a bit of sandpaper, very gently, on the soles to soften up the texture. I did notice that my sandals were a tad rougher after cleaning at the very ends, but because I don't actually feel those parts of the sole when I'm wearing the shoes, I let them be. Second, I did not patch test this cleaning method because I figured that if it ruined my sandals, I still got 5+ years of awesome sandal-age for a measly $35. If you have a newer or more expensive pair of sandals, however, I'd definitely recommending testing this on a small portion of the footbed first. Better yet, you could contact the company to see what cleaning method they recommend.
Sandpaper and patch testing aside, I don't think this is something I would do constantly. It only restores the shoe so much, and I do think it would thin out your footbed over time. But as a yearly upkeep step? It's absolutely doable, especially if you have an old knock-around pair of sandals you love as much as I love these Docs.
