Mia and Me

Say hello to my little friend. I bought my Clarisonic Mia in Poppy almost a year ago after seeing photographs of myself at a party with my rosacea red face. Needless to say, I was rather horrified and ashamed. I decided to do something about it!

I searched the internet and finally decided to buy my Mia directly from Claironic. Two weeks later, my new Mia arrived with a normal and sensitive brush head, travel bag, charger, and a travel size facial cleanser. I allowed my Mia to charge for 18 hours and tried the sensitive brush head and with the cleanser.

I had found love!

My first impression was the massaging quality of the Mia. It's amazing, soothing and makes washing my face a pleasure. I wanted to do it again! I noticed my face felt smoother after only two uses. It seemed to even be brightening my skin a bit. The redness was fading! I ordered four types of cleaners that Clarisonic offers. I started out with the gentle hydro cleanser. Within a month, my rosacea was under control. All this after only using this little joy twice a day!

I have noticed that if I skip using my Mia for more than 2 days, my face begins to look tired. Once, after not using it for an entire month, (SHAME ON ME!!) I seemed to look older, my eyes sagging a bit, the redness was coming back, and my face felt like it was beginning to feel less toned. The texture of my skin was rough.

After THAT lesson, I always use my Mia twice a day. My moisturizer lasts forever because I don't need to use as much. My face is so smooth, even my makeup goes on so much better. And yes, fine lines and wrinkles do seem to be lessened. I also use the skin polish once a week, and switched to the nourishing cleanser during winter months. I can't stop aging completely, but I can continue faithfully using my Mia.


This is a recent photo of me, taken in March 2012:

And what I looked like before Mia in early 2011:

Now you understand.

I LOVE MY MIA!



Now you understand.

And Another Saga Ends...

  And so the friendship of Me and "Betty Sue" has come to a screeching halt.  The tide has turned in the span of a phone call.  With a hearty smile, and a light heart, I bid farewell to the aging and widening senior citizen with the childlike demeanor and toddler-like temper.

Because of you, I shall never forget:

Your admiration for Fox News
Your self-published book
Your own children want nothing to do with you
How you ran away from your foreclosed home
How you are fighting with the IRS
Or the multitude of homes you have owned and relinquished...
I needn't continue.
My life is not perfect.
I don't need to own a home to be happy.
I don't run off my friends.
I just cut the fat.

Cranky Britches

   I use a certain social networking site that's famous.  I'll leave you to guess.  I have friends on there I know personally, and we enjoy sharing photos and things that make me laugh.
  Then there are the Mommies....
  These mommies relish in being the Ultra Mommies. They post unflattering photos of their children with their toothless faces and goofy grins.  They think potty training is a subject we all want to know about.  Some soon-to-be mommies even go as far to post their ultrasound photos.
  I don't share the MRI photos of my brain, or the colonoscopy that my aunt had, so why in the world would I want to look at your fetus?
   Some of us are happy not to have little ones running amok destroying our furniture and ruining our carpets anymore.  Some of us are not even grandmothers yet.  Some of us are happy being adults.  And we do adult things that may even shock your sensitive Sesame Street addled brains.  But we don't post those things because we CONSIDER OUR AUDIENCE.
  Please stop torturing me with your photos and I'll stop bitching on my blog about it.  Thank you.

Can't Save Everyone

  For those who don't know, I like to chat.  I love chat rooms with lots of interaction.  I found one that I had been visiting for a few years now. It's a chat room for a local news station.  I had "met" some really fun and interesting people there.  I have even befriended some on my Facebook page.
  In the past month, I tried to befriend and help someone who I was beginning to feel sorry for.  She seemed to have problems with men and was abused.  The thing is, she lives for this drama.  She has tried to drag anyone who will listen into the depths of her own misery.  I almost fell for it.
  Today, I had enough and had to tell her I cannot be that kind of friend to her.  She seems to relish being the center of attention and loves to play the victim.  I am not her personal pity party.  I am not going to tolerate someone who refuses to help herself out of her own misery.
  So with a lot of trepidation, I unfriended her from my Facebook page and blocked her.  I had to do this for my own personal happiness.  I like my life, and don't need her emotional baggage.
  I wish you well "Miranda", but I cannot be your personal savior.  May you find true happiness and most of all, peace.

The Monolith

  It sat in our kitchen for almost a week.  It was huge, 46 inches of sheer HD power packed into this giant box.  It also scared the cat.  Its ominous presence held us captive.
  A proper table was found in which to properly display this behemoth.
  It now holds court in our living room.
  My god, it's full of stars.

Book 'em Dan-o

  In years past, phonebooks have arrived on my doorstep unannounced.   They usually arrived in twos or threes.  It was as if they were multiplying.
  I didn't want so many phonebooks.  I already had phonebooks to use.  And a computer.
  One year, I stuck a knife in a new phonebook, and left it outside as a warning to anyone who may try to leave more Yellow Pages on the stoop.  This only brought on a visit by the local police. I needed a new tactic.
  Last year, I saw the man distributing the cursed phonebooks, and hurled the phonebook back at him saying I didn't need it.
  The phone company got my message.  This year, instead of phone books, this was left on my porch last week:

  Today, I received a phone call from the same phone company asking me if I did indeed NOT receive a phonebook this year, per my request.  I assured the lady on the phone that I made such a request.  She thanked me in that funny way telemarketers have when reading a script.
  I find it ironic that they bothered to call me to make sure they did nothing for me.

The tale of One-Eyed Gil

  Now don't get me wrong.  Or you can, if you are so inclined.  But I am here to pay homage to the man who made my aunt smile.
  Gil was a big man.  He was larger than life.  He had a great smile, a loud hearty laugh, and knew more jokes than Henny Youngman.  He also drove my father crazy.
  Now Dad liked Gil, he just didn't like that non seeing eye which always gazed upward.  Dad would often phone my aunt and plead with her to talk  Gil into buying an eye patch.  Maybe Dad has a penchant for Rooster Cogburn, but more likely, my Dad was a complainer par excellence.  My aunt would sigh and not insult her friend by insisting he put on an eye patch because it bothered her brother in law.  My aunt is a true saint.
  I would often see Gil in a donut shop I  frequented on early weekday mornings after dropping off my husband at work.  He would be at the donut bar surrounded  by men as gray as he, and some far more deaf than him.
  I took a certain pleasure in sneaking up on Gil from his blind side, wrapping my arms around him in a big hug and whispering sweetly in his ear.  That always made the others chortle and the teasing would begin.  Gil always laughed the loudest.  He would hug and tease me back.
  There's nothing like being teased by a group of old men in the early morning hours to put a big grin on my face and put a good start to my day.
  The group of us would sit for hours talking of the local news, ailments and various other things like dirty jokes.  I do think they enjoyed watching me blush as they tried to embarrass me.  And they often succeeded.
  After a while, the crowd would disappear one by one, until only a few remained. I was usually one of those few, as often I had little to do that day.
  Gil has been gone from us for many years now.  I will never forget his teasing ways and his wonderful humor.  The next donut I eat will be in honor of Gil, you ornery old guy!