Apparently It Has to Smell Good

 A few weeks ago, I wrote about being in search of an age-appropriate makeover. Though I’m hardly a contemporary of the young adults exploring this topic on social media, I thought it might be fun to share some of the good stuff I’ve found. Who knows? Maybe my contemporaries might find it useful, particularly since the only skin in the game is mine. I'm not trying to sell anything, nor am I on anyone's payroll.

I think it started with my search for the perfect foundation, one that is still ongoing. I don't dislike the one I'm using but I thought I might be able to do better. So, a few weeks ago, I ordered something new. I liked the results but it wasn't a keeper. In fact, it unexpectedly identified a parameter I hadn’t considered initially, one that turned out to be important to me.

The sensory experience. 

It didn’t stink, but it definitely had a smell to it, one that was vaguely (but not quite) medicinal and definitely off-putting. Because it took me too long to make a decision, I ended up keeping it, which isn’t entirely bad because the product itself has some merit, but I definitely won’t order it again. 

So far, this particular brand is one for three. I like their lipstick, especially its taste/smell (a touch of spearmint), though I wasn't initially sure about its texture either. As a result, I'll place future orders carefully. Another takeaway here is that, when it comes to foundation (and maybe lipstick as well), I might do better in a brick-and-mortar store where product samples can give me an idea of texture and fragrance. Come to think of it, I recently rejected another company lipstick because of its texture – it was too dry, making application unpleasant, and the end result less than flattering.

If you've noticed that I haven't named names, please understand that's an intentional choice. I'm happy to chat privately with anyone about brands, but I don't feel comfortable blasting negative reviews on the internet just because a product doesn't work for me. I'm happy, however, to give a shout out to products about which I have good things to say, but that has a caveat as well. When it comes to personal care products in particular, "good" or "bad" is purely a matter of taste. 

Speaking of good experiences, last fall my husband and daughter and I attended the National Apple Harvest Festival. I hadn’t been in probably 30 years and I remembered lots of food and crafts. but did not expect to stumble onto a new body butter, especially since  I’m not typically a fan of body butters. This one, however smells sooo good. I opted for the Beach Bum scent, (a departure from my usual vanilla), which I use mostly on my hands. The Apple Harvest Festival was last fall and last month, I ordered a second jar, having depleted the first one, which I fully expect to use up. I haven't yet tried their candles, but just saw that they have a Peach Mango Bellini soy candle. Hmm....

So often, we go in search of  something “new” or “better” without actually defining (or even knowing) what that means. Now, thanks to my latest explorations, I have a better sense of not only what I'm looking for but where to look for it as well. 

And the journey continues. :-)

The Bellini Tour

 Many of us have signature drinks, whether alcoholic or non-alcoholic. When I was in college, my go-to drink was a 7 & 7, though I frequently drank the free beer at fraternity parties. My dad likes his Captain & Coke and my mom's drink was an Amaretto on the rocks. I adopted that one for a time as well, and still order one from time to time. After we went to Ireland, my drink became an upgraded version of my college favorite as I substituted Jameson for the Seagrams. When I go out with long-friends, I can predict most of their drink orders with a high degree of accuracy.

Earlier this month, my family and I spent a few days in Manhattan. On one rainy night, we ended up at Friedman's, known for its gluten-free menu, a necessity for my daughter. The drink special that night was an apple cider Bellini, its rim dipped in honey and coated with sugar.

Yes, please. And then, yes, please again.

Thus began what I'm affectionately dubbing "The Bellini Tour," in which my drink of choice any time I go to a new restaurant is a Bellini.

At Friedman's, the Bellini was made with Prosecco (in keeping with the gluten-free theme, I suppose). It was delicious.

Since we've been back, I've ordered Bellinis at three different restaurants, each ironically a little worse than the one before. I didn't expect anything to be on par with those apple cider Bellinis I had in New York, but I also didn't realize how sub-par they might be elsewhere. 

At the first local restaurant, the drink was a reasonable facsimile of the one I had in New York, albeit not with apple cider, which was not a surprise since that was a particular twist in a particular restaurant. Last weekend, I tried a cranberry Bellini, which was good, although not quite as good as either of the two local drinks that preceded it.

Last night, I had a terrible peach Bellini and it was only after I got home and refreshed my memory on the ingredients that I realized the Prosecco had likely been replaced with champagne, leaving my drink tasting more like a mimosa than a Bellini. I only drank about half of it and enjoyed less of it than that.

So, what's the point here? Am I planning on starting a new career as a Bellini critic? I am not, but I am having fun with my taste tests. Although nothing I've had since I got home compares to those apple cider Bellinis in New York, hope springs eternal. Still, I was surprised that, fruit of choice notwithstanding, one drink could be so different from one place to another.

To be honest, I'm not sure how much of the enjoyment of that drink in New York was connected to location, company, and circumstances. None of these things influence taste, per se, but they do play a role in the overall enjoyment of the experience, something I've been unable to replicate so far.

As long as I'm having fun with my sampling, I see no reason to give it up (except at that last restaurant - yuck). Each sip, no matter the quality, is a small reminder of a chilly, rainy night that culminated in a fun dinner with my family and a delicious drink I look forward to having again.

Even if I have to go back to New York to make that happen.

(Photo courtesy of Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke via Pixabay)

Change

 Starbucks has changed their chai recipe -- substantially -- and I am not happy. My "usual," which has always been reasonably predictable in its flavor, is now a wild card as I conduct daily experiments to adjust the formula to my liking. At this point, I've gotten close, but only when I make substitutions that significantly drive up the cost of my beverage.

First world problem, I know. And if this is the worst thing I have to deal with, I'm exceedingly fortunate. But change is challenging, and disappointment is, well, disappointing.

By definition, change disrupts the status quo. This can be good, bad, or a combination of both. On the up side, it can lead us in novel and maybe even exciting directions, provide us with new opportunities, and make life better. On the down side, it can be uncomfortable, scary, and, yes, disappointing.

Several years ago, I decided to practice saying no. I had gotten so quick with my yeses that my schedule was overbooked and many of the the things that had made it onto my calendar were things for which I didn't have tremendous enthusiasm. So, I decided to really think before adding something new. 

Then COVID hit, and everything became a no. I'd had some practice by then, so those a lot of those nos were easier to cope with. 

But it took me a long time to come back to yes. Anxiety nurtured in isolation hung around for quite some time until "no" became my default. During this time, I (like everyone else) got older, and before I knew it, I'd reached an age where a lot of previous yeses felt less possible. 

This year, I decided to practice saying yes, this time with the wisdom gleaned from choosing my yeses a bit more discerningly. The motivation here had more to do with not aging prematurely than an actual need for change, although there was definitely at least a smattering of the latter.

Choosing change means embracing our fears -- or at least deciding which fears are more of an obstacle than a safety net. When my daughter was a teenager, I remember having a conversation with her about calculated risks; suddenly, I needed to apply that idea to myself.

Change can be simple. A new laundry detergent, route to work, or formula for an old favorite. Some changes inspire regret or disappointment, but others make things better. And often, the only way to know which is which is to take a leap of faith. My willingness to do just that has enriched my life with quite a few experiences in the past few months that have made it clear that even a scary yes can be a good thing.

As for the simpler change that is my chai, I don't know how much longer I'll have the patience to keep tinkering, especially since I could save a lot of money and calories by simply walking away. But all my yeses and nos have taught me that sometimes, growing pains are inevitable, and only we can decide whether or not the change is one worth making. Fortunately, most of the time, today's "no" can still turn into tomorrow's "yes" -- and vice versa. 

We just have to be willing to make the decision that works best for us.

 

A Few Brilliant Things

 Last Friday, I wrote about my recent trip to New York, including my solo adventure to see Daniel Radcliffe in Every Brilliant Thing. I came away from that experience with the reminder that life is full of brilliant things, and a renewed determination to take note of some of them. 

So, from time to time, I’m going to post a random "life is full of brilliant things" post, announced by the graphic at the top of this blog. Here’s a short list of some writing related brilliant things I’ve noticed lately.

1. Finding just the right notebook for the task at hand.

2. Finding just the right job for the notebook you probably shouldn’t have bought, but did anyway.

3. Finding the writing utensil that feels just right in your hand.

4. Discovering that the writing well is a bit deeper than you thought it was.

5. Meeting with a writing accountability partner who shares your joys and struggles.

6. Sunny days.

Want more? Check this out. :-) 

Want to share one? Leave me a comment! 

(Post inspired by #everybrilliantthing)

Travel!

 My Friday features usually focus on books or other reading material but, this time, I want to go a different way. Last week, my husband, daughter, and I spent a few days in New York City. While we were there, we collectively saw two shows, sampled tons of gluten-free food (much to my daughter’s delight) went to two museums and the Harry Potter Shop, spent a little down time in a midtown Starbucks, did some shopping and walked a LOT. 

Although we usually engage in essentially the same activities when we all travel together, this time was a little different. Our daughter had made plans to go to the Spy Museum with a friend on our second day there, leaving my husband and me to make our own plans. He wanted to do a little shopping, while I preferred to take in another show. 

So, that’s what we did. He shopped and I went to see Daniel Radcliffe in Every Brilliant Thing. It was, at the risk of being too on the nose, brilliant – one of the best shows I have seen. Although I’m not a rabid fan, I like Daniel Radcliffe quite a bit, and I like him even more after this show. His range and his generosity with the audience was quite something, beginning 30 minutes before the show as he runs around the audience, introducing himself and seeking out theatregoers who will participate in the story. Because the show has a mental health thread woven throughout, it can be quite an emotional experience, but the journey is worthwhile. Despite the fact that was the one thing I did by myself in New York, I think it was my favorite activity of the trip.

Another favorite was The Museum of Broadway, a place I hope to return to. It brought back theatre history, and fun facts I hadn’t considered since the musical theatre class I took in college a long, long time ago. And the costumes, props, set pieces and additional memorabilia were just delightful. For a Broadway aficionado, it’s a lot to take in. Part of me wishes I could’ve stayed longer, but I also recognize that I was saturated by the time we left, (and my husband and had daughter passed that point before I did), so a return visit is likely to prove more satisfying than more of the same.

As a matter of fact, I think I would return to nearly all the places we visited on this trip. We found some good restaurants where my daughter, who has Celiac Disease, could peruse a full menu rather than trying to ferret out one or two gluten-free items on otherwise gluten-laden menu. And the meals we enjoyed left both my husband and me, who have no dietary restrictions, delighted as well. On a non-foodie note, the Harry Potter Shop was beautiful and it would be fun to go back when we weren’t worrying about finishing our visit there in time to make it to our dinner reservation.

This is my second trip to New York this year — marking my first excursions into the city in more than six years. Though the pandemic is behind us, my desire for travel has been slow to return, but last month, thanks to the generosity and initiative of a dear friend, I had an opportunity to get myself back in the travel game. Together, we saw a taping of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert, and a Patti LuPone concert at Carnegie Hall. That trip, along with the more recent one with my family, whetted my appetite, nudging me to book more trips for later this year before I forget the perks of leaving home and the status quo lures me back in.

It’s a big world out there and I want more. More shows. More trips. More brilliant things.

As I wrote in a post at the beginning of this year, age is a state of mind. And, as Mark Twain, (and a few others) have reportedly said, if you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. 

Life is full of brilliant things, and we are never too old to find them. At least not as long as we're willing to seek them out.

Dear Mom

harrypottershop.com

 My mom passed away nine years ago this June, and I still miss her. I see her occasionally in my dreams where she is oddly quiet -- oddly because, in life, my mom was about as quiet as I am. 

Talking to her is what I miss most. I loved coming home from an adventure -- or even just a shopping trip -- and telling her all about it over the phone. We'd swap stories about sales and bargains (my mom always loved a good bargain), along with rationalizations about the things we just had to have. Fortunately, this is. a tradition my daughter and I have carried on, which I think would make my mom happy.

Last week, my husband, my daughter, and I spent a few days in New York City. We haven't been there together in a while (oddly enough, my daughter and I were both there -- separately -- last month) and we managed to cram a lot in. And, when I came home, I wanted to call my mom and tell her all about it. 

Except I couldn't. So I wrote her a letter instead.

While in New York, I splurged on a leather-bound journal at the Harry Potter store. I say "splurged" not only because it was more expensive than I think a notebook should be, but also because the last thing I needed was another notebook. In a recent re-organization of my office, I discovered even more blank notebooks than the embarrassingly large collection that I already knew I had, and I decided I definitely didn't need to purchase any more until I used some of what I had.

Oops.

I didn't know what I was going to do with the journal when I bought it but, shortly after I got home, I knew exactly what I wanted to use it for. I gathered some of my New York souvenirs and used them to create collages on the first several pages. And the next day, when I decided to write to my mom, I knew exactly where that letter had to go.

Ironically, the letter bears an uncanny resemblance to another project I'm working on. I didn't realize this when I decided to write to my mom instead of just writing a journal entry, and I'm not yet sure whether it means something or is simply my mind working overtime and then cluing me in later.

I still don't know what I'll use the rest of the notebook for. More travel notes? More letters to Mom? But right now that doesn't matter. Right now, having shared my trip with my mom made it even sweeter.

Love you, Mom.