(2) New lipstick and lip liner from MAC: Smoked Purple and Nightmoth, respectively. (The saleslady was slick; she heard me saying that I had no intention of purchasing makeup and then sweetly asked me to try on the lippie above to see if what I “thought” about it. Hook–line–sinker. That smoked purple. Y’all? A beauty. Pics coming tomorrow.
Readers, we’ve been together for 26 straight autumn days. Blogtober has T-5 days left. I don’t know what to do with myself. Or…do I?
Ha! We’re not even done yet. But I wanted to do that. And you get one, too, for sticking with me and reading and liking and commenting and following. The real MVPs? You.
Happy Fall Friday, bon weekend, and see ya tomorrow.
I just saw this on Le Pinterest and I think it definitely captures the duality of this time of year.
Who else is a fall homebody? Because yes, I love taking in the beauty of the electric fall atmosphere, but oh, yes, do I also love hunkering down in my warm apartment, encased in a warm blanket and mindlessly watching episode after episode of my beloved Law and Order. (You were probably expecting a less intense show, huh?)
Sometimes I wonder if I love fall so much because it’s the visual embodiment of all the things that, psychologically, I should be doing a better job of maintaining. Every year, nature takes stock and detoxes, shedding its skin in the loveliest, most wondrous of ways. It’s a lesson to be learned, and certainly one to echo.
Because, dear reader, I know how to do the following things:
drive long distances
remember every vestige of wrongs done to me
Let’s discuss that last one. Is it really letting go and shedding if I hold on to the memory, almost lovingly, to my chest? Is my intent to remember not to be hurt again really a thinly veiled attempt to just remember the hurt(s)?
And yet, one thing I actively try to do is be a good forgiver. In the past, I held grudges like a boss. As I grew up and looked inward, it was important that growth and maturing involved a decided effort to strip away some of the vendettas grudges I was holding on to. I’ve come a long way. But there’s still road to traverse.
Sometimes I think wanting to protect our hearts, as women, involves a large dose of remembering. The heart needs protection. It needs a shield. We have to remember the past so we don’t repeat letting people inside who shouldn’t be there. But balance. So much balance is necessary. To wrap the heart in a shield doesn’t also mean to let it grow cold with memory.
Look at all the trees around you, just stripping things away and readying themselves for the cyclical new beginning.
That lovely, crisp, autumnal breeze in the atmosphere? It’s wonderful. And also very, very dangerous.
This morning, as I trudged into work and settled myself at my desk, I noticed something as I was typing away on my keyboard. Something that took my breath away.
My knuckles were ashy. Like gray. The abject horror of it all.
Here’s the thing: I don’t play when it comes to lotion. Your Square Peg is a connoisseur of moisturized skin. I don’t leave my house without the epidermis gleaming from whatever silky lotion or oil I’ve decided to apply. Especially when it comes to these hands, which is the first thing folks see, other than the face. So the discovery of these ashy knuckles–and the skin between my fingers, my goodness–was like, whaaaaattttttttt?
Oh, Autumn.
And that’s the thing: the cool breeze comes bearing dubious gifts. Dry skin, dry limbs, the whole ashy shebang. whenever we’re outside and subject to the elements. (Even that beautiful, heated atmosphere in the home can be a little intense for the skin.) How can we counter it? A few things I plan on doing more of, although apparently at least one of them didn’t work this morning:
Lotion it up. I have lotion on my desk at work, in my handbag, wherever I go. Take the time to apply some on your hands, face, wherever you’re susceptible to starting a brush fire with your skin. Yikes.
Extra facial moisture. So this morning was a struggle, which may explain why some things fell by the wayside. But as I was driving in and applying makeup on my face (be ye not judgmental; I’ve actually gotten better at not doing this, dear reader), I noticed some dry spots on my face. So yeah, I plan on upping my skin care game for real during this time of year.
Brush your lips. I don’t know where I read this, but one way to counter the peeling of skin on the lips (something that happens to me a lot), is to gently brush them with a toothbrush. Exfoliating for the win. I also just read that a bit of Vaseline or lip balm on the lips first and then brushing is even better. Don’t brush hard, y’all. Do this one at your own risk. I’m not a doctor or an esthetician, but I play one on TV. (I just googled and there are plenty of lip scrubs out there. Research!)
And remember: all skin is capable of ashiness. All.Skin. Just a friendly reminder.
Happy Monday, y’all. Upwards and onwards and skinwards.
After three weeks of rain, this weekend welcomed that sky and that glow below. Photos taken by yours truly from her couch, as she takes in the lovely, dry day. Happy Sunday.
