Yesterday a news alert from PopSugar dinged my phone, announcing that I could totally cure my holiday "food hangover." With these seven healthy meals!
PopSugar, I love you, I do, but I have a question: WHY, exactly, might I want to cure my holiday food hangover when it happens to still technically be "the holidays"? And beyond that - speaking as someone who has worked in many, many bars over the years and who knows that how you fix alcohol-related misery is with more alcohol - you know how you *actually* cure a food hangover?
Wearing cashmere sweatpants (thanks mom!) to maximize the chances that they will end up ruined.
My feet look weird because I blurred them so as not to frighten you.
For whatever reason, our annual Ohio trip is always a bit of a thing, and has been even more spectacularly drama-filled in the three years since Goldie was born.
It's that time of year again: the time of year when you realize that you still have a bunch of money sitting in your FSA account, all unspent and ready to be snatched up by The Man. Now, my family actually has the magic ability to guarantee that there will be an ER trip in the days leading up to the new year - all we have to do is book a trip to Ohio, and bam: full-family stomach flus and broken bones abound), but unless you're similarly blessed, you might be wondering how to use up your tax-free health bucks.
First, here are a few important points to consider:
I get a lot of PR emails; anyone who's anywhere even close to the blogging world does. We're talking maybe 200 a day (at minimum), which means that I've gotten pretty good at figuring out which emails are from reps who are just sending out publicity blasts to anyone and everyone, and those who've taken the time to figure out what my site is about, and genuinely think that their product might be of interest to my readers. (I also open emails that have funny subject lines, because I feel like the effort to be non-boring shouldn't go unappreciated. And also emails from reps of sex toy companies, because I've been receiving these in vast quantities for the past few months, and - though they aren't unwelcome, per se - I've been trying to figure out why.)
Anyway, a few weeks ago, while laying in my bed dying from the plague, I was scrolling through my emails and saw one from an online boutique called Moon Water. Despite the fact it had a fairly standard "Black Friday Gift Guide Roundup"-type subject line, I opened it, and when I saw that it was written by the husband of one of the owners, who talked about his wife's passion for supporting global craftsmanship, I was all AW I LOVE HIM, and went and checked out the site.
And now I love Moon Water, too.
What you see above are the results of my regrowth over the past few months. (Gorgeous, I know. But also AMAZING.)
Win a year’s supply of Rogaine for Women - and a few more of my favorite things - by scrolling to the bottom of this post. There are lots of ways to enter!
Back in the spring, when Rogaine first asked me if I’d be interested in working with them, I was a little hesitant. Not because the thinning hair that I’d been dealing with for several years didn’t bother me - oh my god, did it ever; I hated seeing photographs of my head from certain angles because they made me look like that guy in Tales From the Crypt - but because I was embarrassed. Talking publicly about the fact that I was losing one of the main things that many people (myself included, I suppose) associate with youth and femininity wasn’t something I was particularly excited to do.
Christmas is almost heeeeeeeere! (Ok, there's still about a week to go, but I have two children who are doing an excellent job at keeping me posted on exactly how many days we have until Christmas. We're talking hourly updates.)
I always have a bit of a rough time getting into the Christmas spirit, and this year is something extra. I want to be all blissed-out in front of a fireplace, feeling cozy and joyful and safe, but it's 70 degrees outside and the world is falling apart around our ears and there's so much to do every day that fireplace bliss doesn't feel like a solid use of my time, and...
Before I get into the point of this post- which is the trunk show I hosted on Friday night - we need to have a quick chat about this Tome dress. It's from Rent the Runway, and I ordered it a size too small but figured that it'd be okay because it seemed like a loose-fitting dress, but when it arrived I put it on I went, oh my god, THIS DOES NOT FIT AT ALL.
Like, reallllly not at all; I was exposing about two inches of underboob, and two inches of underboob really just amounts to "boob."
But then! I realized that I'd been putting my head through the wrong spot - thereby pulling up the cutout flaps that hit around the waistline to extremely inappropriate locations - and that it was supposed to be a high-necked style. So I made the requisite adjustments, and there you go: not only did it fit, it was insanely cool; maybe one of my favorite dresses I've ever worn.
Both Kendrick and I are extremely particular about our sleep situations. He has the internal composition of a deep-freezer and is never, ever warm enough, and I am basically a walking, talking hot potato. (We get in a lot of fights over our bedding, in case it wasn't clear.) One thing we do agree on: the importance of a transcendently fluffy comforter - you know, the kind you find in fancy hotel rooms but can never seem to replicate at home (at least not without spending several hundreds of dollars)? That kind.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend who works for a company called "Buffy" emailed me to tell me that she wanted me to try their product: a comforter that they describe on their website as being "constructed like a cloud." The press materials elaborated on this, saying that Buffy was "poised to disrupt the bedding industry." This seemed a little dramatic to me.
I figured it'd be...you know...a nice comforter.
Here Is How To Own The Glasses That Ali Wong Wears In Baby Cobra (Or How To Own My Glasses, Which Are The Same Ones)
Where is that thing I saw that famous person wearing?
I can count on one hand the times that I've seen something a celebrity is wearing and needed to own it to the extent that I would actually sit down at the computer and do the requisite research.
I did a little mental inventory of said times, and - surprise, surprise - it turns out that most of them involved things behind which I can hide my face.