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I’ll Take the Wrinkles 12

I’m at the age where I’m seeing a few more wrinkles. It’s bound to happen, unless…. And I don’t want to go there. But as an American woman who is bombarded with advertisements, I succumbed to one on – blushing – Facebook. It shows a middle-aged woman getting rid of the circles under her eyes and looking, of course, ten years younger.

I thought…for $3.99, I’ll give it a try. In the next week or so I received two different products – not the one I ordered, and since I didn’t order them, I stupidly ignored (kind of like those magazines you order but arrive in your mail) but gave it a whirl. The products were okay, and, truthfully, I think it was more in my head that I looked a little better. (Okay, maybe moisturizer is what it’s really about. )

The next credit card statement is when my face really sagged. There were two charges for more than $100 for these products, I never ordered. I immediately called my credit card company and the company sent me a new card with a different number.

Yes, I know this was stupid (now), vanity is the root of all evil. But I’m telling you this story in hopes it won’t happen to you. By the way, I never received the product that removes the circles under your eyes.

I’ve decided to not by online products when it comes to skincare. I’ve also decided to deal with only reputable companies (we can only hope).

So, tell me something. How come men look so distinguished as they age, and women will do anything to look younger? I see a hat and sunscreen in my future. If I risk identity theft to buy a product, I’ll take the wrinkles.

How about you? Do you order on line? Do you have a skincare line you love and trust?

12 COMMENTS | Categories,Donnell Ann Bell | Tags, , ,

Drifting Down the Stream 4

Keri R.’s recent post made me think of stream of consciousness writing. I was taught about that in my junior English class in high school, and after I moved away right before my senior year, my best friend and I sent each other stream-of-consciousness letters. We sometimes took it to extremes with run-on sentences that took up a whole page. 🙂

Stream of consciousness is actually my natural state of being. I’m told that some people are actually able to blank their brains and think of nothing. I suspect it might be a myth, but there’s no way to know for sure. It’s at its worst in the shower, where I can start with planning my morning and cycle through politics, current events, football, and financial concerns, and wind up on a memory from 20 years ago that I just can’t shake.

It’s a state of being I admit I don’t like that much. It can take me down some dark roads, and it just never stops. My favorite way to keep it at bay is to listen to podcasts, mostly football focused. Though I LOVE Aisha Tyler’s Girl on Guy interviews, and Mike Rowe, the guy from Dirty Jobs, has a short one called The Way I Heard It that’s reminiscent of Paul Harvey’s The Rest of the Story.

Now I miss Paul Harvey. That guy really knew how to hold your attention.

The podcasts don’t always work. My mind can wander even when I’m listening, usually triggered by something someone says that I can’t argue with because they can’t hear me. That’s frustrating. Of course, it probably keeps my relationships intact. I’m a soul-deep devil’s advocate, and it can frustrate anyone who spends too much time with me.

SOC writing can be good for brainstorming a plot. One of my writer friends is a huge mind-mapper. Mind-mapping is like a focused SOC session. I’m not a plotter, but I find that technique helpful when I need to deepen my GMC. (Goal, motivation, and conflict for you non-writers. 🙂 )

SOC’s ideal use is probably journaling. It’s funny, as SOC as my brain is naturally, when it comes to writing—whether an e-mail, a blog post, a journal entry, or fiction—things change. I expected this post to be really SOC, jumping from topic to topic like Keri’s did, but it didn’t. It hewed to structure, with a few tangents (hello, Paul Harvey!). So I guess my left brain is connected to my fingers, while my right brain is free-floating.

(Did I get that right? I never remember which is which, since I land right in the middle.)

So how about you? Stream of consciousness or sticking to topic? Blank brain, or Energizer-bunny brain? Left or right brained? 🙂

4 COMMENTS | Categories,Natalie J. Damschroder | Tags

My Super Market Moment 1

First off, let me emphatically state, I am a person who should sing in the shower, not in public. This doesn’t mean I don’t sing, especially if it’s one of those songs. You know what I mean. Everybody has one—perhaps even two or three—a song you simply can’t resist. For me, it’s Foreigner’s I Want To Know What Love Is. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m with. I take a big breath and let ‘er rip. Apparently lots of women feel as I do about this particular song. Hence, my super market moment.

2 women singing

Normally, I pay no attention to the background music as I browse the aisles of Safeway. All I want to do is grab the items on my list and get the heck out of the store. On this particular day, I was in the produce section when, hark! My song was playing. I tried to fight it. Truly, I did, but when I heard Lou Gramm’s soulful plea, his search for love, his desire to change his lonely life, it was all over. The chorus was coming up. I tried to resist, but the lyrics were bubbling up inside of me, demanding to be set free. Clutching the handle of my grocery cart, the song burst from my lips and I warbled, slightly off-key, along with Foreigner. I want to know what love is. I want you to show me.

https://www.google.com/?gws_rd=ssl -q=lyrics+to+i+want+to+know+what+love+is

Guess what happened next? Two other women joined in. Not only did they sing-along, they used various and sundry vegetables for make-believe microphones. One woman selected a cucumber. (Hmm, a little too phallic for me) I reached for a parsnip, but then thought, “Maybe I’ll have to buy it and I don’t like parsnips,” so I settled for an ear of corn. The other lady grabbed a bunch of carrots. We sang. We swayed in sisterly solidarity, swept away on the wings of emotion. When we finished, the kid stacking bananas clapped for us.


Do you have a special song that goes to a deeply held emotional place and insists you sing along?




1 COMMENT | Categories,Uncategorized | Tags