We all have feelings about the election

Does anyone care what I think about the election? Probably not. Everyone has their own feelings and want their feelings to be heard. I'm not above that, and just because no one cares what I think doesn't mean it's not cathartic to put it out there, so here goes.

The most upsetting thing to me in the aftermath are the people who are saying they can't wait to say "I told you so," or can't wait to see Trump fail. Look, I have never liked Trump. I never entertained the idea of voting for him; I 100% voted for Hillary, not because I loved her and what she stood for, but because I was so against Trump and I wanted my vote to count against him. I didn't think a third party candidate had a chance, so I voted for HRC. It wasn't so much #ImWithHer; it was more like #ImWithHerBecauseImTerrifiedOfHim. I thought she had it in the bag, and I was actually starting to be excited and proud that we were about to elect a female president. And then she lost.

You might not believe what I'm about to say, but now I want Trump to succeed. I have my doubts - serious ones! I am scared! But I want desperately to be proven wrong. Because I love my country more than I love being "right." Shame on the people that say they can't wait to be right about Trump, as they predict all sorts of things from World War III to racism sweeping the country. Shame on the people throwing temper tantrums by burning the flag and destroying property. I am hopeful that there are still other good people out there and that the system of checks and balances in politics will keep anything too terrible from happening.

On election day I shared a post on Facebook that said, "If you win, don't gloat. If you lose, don't despair." Of course at that point I thought HRC was a shoo-in, haha, but I still feel strongly that this is a great message and I hope that all my friends read it, believe it and live it. Please put our country first and wish the best for her, no matter who you voted for.

Results are in... of the Chapstick Challenge!

Last month I lamented on facebook that I was suffering with some seriously chapped lips. I begged my friends for recommendations for The Best Chapstick Ever.

It seems like each friend had a different opinion of what was the best. As the ideas poured in, I realized that I needed to test out the suggestions myself and decide which was the champion. I declared this the Chapstick Challenge - may the best balm win!

Favorite to apply: Lypsyl and Burt's Bees (peppermint). Both were super creamy and had a slight cooling sensation that was very soothing.

Best scent/flavor: Sun Shades (by Melaleuca). It's like eating a sugar cookie on a beach.

Most moisturizing and best overall: Carmex. I got the regular stick, the tube (gel-like) and Carmex Moisture Plus (also a stick, but not the traditional look and reportedly has more vitamin E and aloe). The scent isn't great, nor is the flavor, should some happen to get in your mouth. But it's all worth it, because this stuff made my lips so soft! Before bed, I would slather on Carmex from the tube and would wake up with moisturized lips. Throughout the day, the sticks kept them well-conditioned without ever feeling sticky (personal pet peeve).

I honestly think that all of the contenders did a great job. Regular use is the key. I will never again be without a chapstick - whether it's Carmex, or Lypsyl, or Burt's Bees, or Blistex, or Sun Shades, etc. etc. - in my pocket! And I'm thankful to all my friends for their great suggestions (and shout-out to the Davillis who actually gave me samples!) You all saved my lips.

Hopefully by sharing the results of my Chapstick Challenge I can do the same for you.

30 Year's Resolutions

Most people wait until Jan. 1 to make their official resolutions, but tomorrow I turn 30 so I figure now is a good time to make a few declarations regarding some changes I'd like to make in my life.

1. Wear sunscreen daily. No tanning beds (not really my thing anyway) and no sunbathing with SPF 4. Not only will those rays make you look older, but they are downright dangerous. A friend just lost her husband (only 33 years-old) to melanoma and I spent way too many days in the sun (sans-'screen) in AZ as a youngster. Must repent.

2. To go along with the above, see my doctors regularly. Dermatologist to check moles. Dentist (holding out for new insurance after the new year - after that, I mean business). I try to be tough most of the time but there is much that can be prevented - or at the least, nipped in the bud - by being proactive about health and seeing a professional.

3. Back to vanity... use under-eye cream daily. As a child, I was the only toddler with bags under my eyes. I've always had dark under-eye circles as well - I am surprised that no one called social services on my parents with suspicions that they were abusing me. I had what looked to be two distinct shiners. But the puffiness and darkness is dramatically improved when I use a little eye cream with cucumber or another cooling, soothing ingredient. If I actually use it regularly, I can create the illusion that I've slept more than 10 hours in the past week...

4. Be better, and smarter, about taking my vitamins regularly and as directed. What do I need and what is unnecessary (or even dangerous)? Are there special instructions for how or when I should take it for the vitamin to be most effective?

5. Dress smarter. I have a LOT of clothes. I don't wear most of them, but they take up space in my closet, drawers, dressers and storage. That much clothing. Anyway, just because I'm getting older doesn't mean that I am turning in all of my old clothes for some frumpy frocks, but as my mom pointed out, nice clothes are an investment and can be worn in many ways. My mother is much for fashionable and quality-conscious than I am. But I know that I still wear plenty of pants and tops that are well past their prime, but by some miracle still "fit" (relative term) and haven't completely fallen apart yet. But they make me look sloppy, unpolished, unprofessional. I need to cull my closet and be selective about what not only fits, but flatters a thirty-year-old like me.

6. I also need to be smarter about makeup. I should mention that I've already taken a step toward improvement in this area, as I took a formal "makeup lesson" yesterday. Again, it's not just a matter of slapping stuff on, it's knowing what about me, uniquely, should be highlighted, and what should be downplayed or hidden. And how to do it all tastefully, classily, seamlessly. I have very little patience for taking time to do my makeup, hair, etc. But if I do make the time, the results are worth it. Especially as I get older, it becomes more and more imperative to take a few extra moments to put myself together.

7. Back to the personal development stuff - be more open-minded. As I have gotten older, I noticed that I'm getting a little more set in my ways. I'm glad that I've noticed this tendency because now I can confront it. While I've always been a "live and let live" person and I'd never go as far as to tell someone else what they should or should not do, I should never even silently judge anyone for being different from me. Who says I'm right and they're wrong, or that there is even a "right" or "wrong" in the matter, any way?

8. No regrets. This is probably the hardest one and I need to be honest with myself, I'll always have a few regrets. But I when I'm in the face of a decision and hemming and hawing over what to do, I want to pause to ask myself if one way or the other I will later regret not seizing an opportunity, taking a stand, making a move. It is not in my nature to be a crazy risk taker, and that's okay. It is important to stay true to myself and not pretend I'm something I'm not, but it's also important to slightly push my comfort boundaries in the name of self-improvement.

I'm not good with age so this is all quite difficult. But by keeping my resolutions in mind, I hope that my 30th year can be one of my best.

Bizarro Day

Last Tuesday was Bizarro Day at work. I have been extremely busy this week - more so than usual. But early afternoon I was aware of two male voices outside my office. I peeked out and one, the well-dressed "leader," introduced the other, as he was about to do some work on our building.

"He goes by 'Daddy' and he's going to be pressure washing your windows."

Daddy? I haven't even called my own father that since I was five. I'm not calling a random stranger 'Daddy,' I don't care what he wants to "go by."

Well, if he's pressure washing the windows, he's outside. So I don't really have to worry about what I'll be calling him, because I'll be sitting inside, in my office.

I could hear Daddy bustling about out there, and at first I was a little annoyed that they (he?) picked the middle of the workday to do such noisy work. But soon I tuned it out and became engrossed in my work.

That is, until a loud blast directly behind me sent me leaping out of my chair.

The one and only window in my office is about 28" tall by 10" wide. Very small. But Daddy was thorough and no window went unwashed. As I jumped up and looked behind me, I saw the reason for the loud noise. There was Daddy staring in at me through the window he just cleaned. Did I mention he was doing this shirtless and wearing jorts?

Daddy! Stop being so creepy!

More from Mom

Another snippet of a recent conversation with my mother:

(As I'm trying on a dress, asking for her opinion)

Mom: "I don't know if I like it. Maybe if you were wearing a push-up bra?"

Me: "I AM wearing a push-up bra..."

Mom: "Oh. That's too bad."

When did my pants split?

Today I was in Giant grocery store, the produce section to be exact, when I felt a little draft.. um... back "there." I discreetly brushed my hand to my backside and panicked. My jeans were split down the center seam. Not a little hole, I'm talking about flapping in the breeze. I already had a half-full cart of goods, so I decided to push on. I carefully continued shopping, maybe walking a little funny, and I believe the others around me were none the wiser.

Maybe I should've laid low, and that was the plan... until "We Didn't Start the Fire" came on the store's radio. I know EVERY word to that song! Well, at least I used to, I haven't heard it in a while so I may be a little rusty. But I have to say, as I belted it out walking - er, shuffling - down the grocery store aisles, I think I've still got it.

So if people didn't think the girl who has exposing her butt in the middle of the grocery store was nutso, the girl walking like she had a stick up her butt, they sure thought the girl simultaneously doing the Billy Joel impression was a little weird.

But I AM weird. Always have been. Here's another fun story that proves that I've been strange for a long time. It also takes place in a grocery store (like that segue?)

My mom recently reminded me of this story and I vaguely recall it. I became a vegetarian at a very young age (4). In the deli and meat section of our local grocery store, they had a pig in the glass display. A dead one (duh), cooked and with an apple in its mouth. One would think I would've been afraid of it, or at least grossed out, since I was avoiding eating meat at the time. No, strange-child-Lauren was OBSESSED with the pig at the grocery store. I used to ask my mom on a daily basis if we could go see it. Like, just go to LOOK at it. My mom, always a smart cookie, didn't think that was a "healthy" idea, even though I begged.

I wonder what the people who worked behind the deli counter thought about me?? The little four-year-old girl who liked to come stare at the pig. Were they disturbed? Amused? Did they look at me funny, like the people at Giant today?

The toilet paper at my parents' house

This past weekend I got to spend some much needed time with my girl friends from college, a ladies' weekend in the Poconos. My parents kindly offered to watch my dog for me and since they were along the way in my route north, I swung by and dropped him off.

Huck travels with his own bag (toys, ball, food, rain coat). I brought it all inside the house, and decided to take a potty break before I hit the road. That's when I noticed it, more like remembered it - my parents have really NICE toilet paper.

The toilet paper is super soft and feels strong like woven cloth. That, of course, is because my parents don't shop like I do. Naturally they consider price particularly on the larger ticket items, but they aren't on the same level of "bargain shopper" that I am.

When I was first on my own my default was to purchase what my parents always bought for products needed around the house. Bounty paper towels, All fabric detergent, Windex glass cleaner, Cascade dish detergent. But then I started paying attention to the prices and, consequently, the store brands. Knock-offs, generic, off-brands. I could save so much money by purchasing "less than the best;" it was still good enough for me.

It's not like I'm using sand paper in place of toilet paper, that's just silly. It would probably actually be more expensive to do that. With time I barely noticed what I was missing. That is, until I went to my parents' house and needed a quick pee break, now I'm ruined.

Is it bad that I thought about stashing a roll or two in my purse to take home? Just kidding...