Red Lipstick (Or Lack Thereof)

I didn't have time to do much with my appearance yesterday. I think I looked good, but I wasn't terribly feminine. There were a few moments were I jokingly called myself a Little Butch Girl--but not out loud to people who would get on my case about using that term. I ran into a guy from my ward who only sees me at church when I'm dressed up. "Your lips aren't as red as usual," he said. "Is your name still Brooke?"

Is this how people see me? Really?

But that's not the point. The point is that despite looking like a Little Butch Girl, I was happy. I wasn't defining myself by how I look like that punk from my ward. I'm a daughter of God and a disciple of Christ. Knowing that and doing what I should is what makes me feel good about myself...but looking pretty helps now and again, too.

I'm Pretty Sure This is What I Did Today.

2008-The only time I intentionally slept on the floor.

I got up early this morning to do homework before class. I do better work first thing in the morning. Then I managed to stay awake through all my classes. I got a few things taken care of in the afternoon before I woke up on the floor. I don't know how long I was out or even what happened, but I'm feeling okay now. It's just frustrating that I don't remember a lot of my afternoon. I hope this doesn't happen again, but I'm going to try not to be home alone for the next little bit.

In other news, I submitted this picture to Jones Soda today. I don't remember actually doing it, but I got an e-mail back from them saying it was a "staff pick" and that they'll send it to the judges. If the judges like it, they'll put it on a real live Jones Soda bottle. That would make me...very happy. Go here to vote on it, if you please!

The Skin Chronicles

I grew up with a firm belief in my own beauty. I remember being asked to sum myself up in two words in 1st, maybe 2nd grade. I chose "smart" and "pretty." When I was nine, I began to break out. I didn't notice. I knew that acne was just what comes with adolescence. My mom bought me a lot of products to try to help, and I thought they worked okay. I knew that acne was just what comes with adolescence. I had no clue why it was such a big deal or why my doctor started prescribing stronger stuff. I really, truly did not understand how bad it was. 

2006

It got to the point where we had to bring out the referral papers and I started seeing a dermatologist. I went on Accutane in late 2006. When my skin started to clear, I realised how bad it had been before. 

2006 (photo by Jill Rich Photography)

2007

Then I  knew I was pretty.

About a six months after my last dose of Accutane, I began to break out again. I went through the same process all over again, complete with another six months of Accutane. It was harder this time around because I knew what I was "supposed" to look like. 

2008

My acne left a little more scarring this time around, and it didn't stay perfect for as long. But it's never gotten as bad since.

2009 

(Dang, I look like my mom here!)

Now I deal with adult acne by actually taking care of myself. (Ya hear that? I'm an adult.) This works pretty well. I'm also going to try a DIY egg white mask I saw on the internet. I don't even know if I'm going to post this. But I do know what even with my less-than-perfect skin, I'm still pretty.

July 2010

Aurora Musis Amica

So depending on how you want to look at things, my sleep schedule has either been ruined or saved. I made a goal before the semester started to get up every morning at 6:00 and go to bed at 10:00 every night. Since I only have morning classes two days a week, this quickly turned into going to bed whenever and getting up whenever. I really wanted to start getting up early again.(It's scripture, you know.) Then as I was organizing old bookmarks, I came across this article on becoming an early riser. Then I realized that that's how I did it in high school. I went to bed when I was tired, got up at 5:00 or 5:30 for seminary, and filled in the gaps with naps when necessary. (Fact: It was necessary every day senior year.) So yesterday I resolved that that's what I would do.

Then I got tired at 5:00. I had been up late the night before and was up early for my photo lab (more on that  to come). I was reading for my International Relations class when I realized I'd been half-asleep for half an hour. (Okay, I was in between readings. I liked Kant...I just never got around to turning to Wilson.) So I went to bed. Sort of. I meant to read for a while...on my bed. I fell asleep with my clothes on, hair done, without even taking off my shoes. And I slept soundly until about 3:00 this morning, but I didn't make myself get up until 3:45 because I was FREEZING. (I'm always cold. My roommate Chelsea is always warm. My bed is closest to the window, which we leave open for her sake. Normally I'm covered in tons of blankets, but all I had was my enormous fleece...which, come to think of it, I don't remember putting on myself.)

So now I'm wide awake at about 4:30. My roommates are still asleep. The gym's not open yet. I dont' have class until 12:45.  I guess now's as good a time as ever to finish all my homework, blog a little more, then relax and enjoy my weekend.

(I don't have class on Friday.)

P.S. The translation of the title (and a place to put it on your wall as a reminder) can be found here.

MMMMM Prepositions

I bought new t-shirts on-line the other day. They came this week, and I could not be more pleased with them. My parents think I'm nuts, though. 

What say you, people who have to look at my clothes when I wear them? 

(If you're looking at my clothes elsewhere,  you're kind of a creeper. Get out of my room.)

Un Coup de Soleil, Indeed.

Life's been pretty crazy lately. Living alone can be depressing. And that can make it easy to be stressed about work. And everything else.

Thursday I decided to take a half day off to go to the beach with my family. It was fun! 

There were dolphins playing close to the shore! It was a perfect day! I didn't wear sunscreen--I tan!

There I was wrong. I got a nasty sunburn. On the way home, we stopped for supplies. I got back to Claremont, unloaded some supplies, and started working. Then my sunburn really started to hurt, so I took a break to watch old episodes of Arrested Development. Then I got up to answer a text. I got dizzy and fell while replying. I got up and knew something was wrong. I felt sick. I called my mom and fell again while on the phone. I woke up on the bathroom floor with my head throbbing--I had hit it on the tile. My mom called again and I answered. She had me lie on the bed and talk to her until Dad could get to my house. I felt nauseous, I had chills, and felt like dying. She and WebMD decided that I had sun poisoning, and that's when I realized that my "falls" had been faints. My dad got there and hung out until I felt well enough to get up and go back to my parents'. Friday I was sick again, but I went back to work. Dallin actually did the bulk of it because I felt awful. Thank goodness for him!

I'm feeling better now, but my sunburn still hurts and I'm starting to peel. My friend Sabrina shared some of her Biafine, a wonderful amazing sunburn cream that they sell over-the-counter in France that has helped me heal so much more quickly. (Is that correct grammar?) Dallin and I are going to be able to catch up with work, so it's not the end of the world on that front.


Moral of the story: When at the beach,

• Wear suncreen.
• Eat.
• Don't fall asleep.

MARVELous

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Of course, this was after 3-9 shampoos. At first, my hair broke Honor Code. Now I'm just afraid to wear colors and my roommate calls me Kool-Aid Head. Hopefully this color will bring about level 5 mutant powers and James Marsden.

Karma?

In high school, my friends would tell their mothers that their hickeys were straightener or curling iron burns. Sometimes they told me they were straightener or curling iron burns. I never believed that this was a possible excuse.

But then today, Shayna as my witness, I burned my neck curling my hair. And then it looked like a hickey all day long. When it's got makeup on it, it looks like a burn.

(Really, it's not a hickey. Never been kissed, I promise!)

I will never doubt the plausibility of this explanation again.

In other news about my body, I couldn't give blood today because I don't weigh enough. Women under 19 who are 5'2" need to weigh 129 lbs to donate blood these days. If I weighed 5 to 10 pounds more than I do now (which would put me there), I would think myself very unhealthy. Unhealthy people shouldn't give blood. This is the fault of skinny girls who can't handle giving blood. Shame on them.