In search of the Perfect Hand Cream

I have spent much of my life in search of the holy grail of dry skin sufferers, The Perfect Hand Cream. This is partly for cosmetic reasons, I have to admit. Who likes the look of hangnails and rough skin? Not too many people unless you're making a commercial for a tough guy pickup truck or something of that sort. The other reason is that it just hurts when your fingers crack and bleed and your hangnails catch on sweaters/mittens/blankets that are necessary for the same reason that your hands are dry, cold air.

I have come up with three criteria for selecting The Perfect Hand Cream: effective moisturization, lack of greasiness and a good price. Scent only matters slightly. Its odor cannot be offensive or unusually strong.

Now, I have found hand creams that succeed in up to 2 of these categories. There is, of course, the good old standby, Vaseline petroleum jelly which is both effective and cheap, but you can't hold anything for like 3 hours lest you goober it beyond recognition or watch a glass slip ever so slowly from your grasp. There's jergen's hand lotion, which is cost effective and non-greasy, but it is only slightly effective. There's this L'occitaine stuff that's the shit. It moisturizes for hours. It's also non-greasy. But it's $23.00 per small tube, and it's not worth going into debt for hand cream unless you're a hand model. Then there's hemp hand cream from the Body Shop. This scores moderately high marks in all categories. So far, this is the one I put my money on, but if you have any suggestions, please let me know.

I know I've bored most of you, but if I didn't lose you completely, you probably have enough previous interest in this subject to have some good suggestions for me.

Yuppie Bar

So, we went to a yuppie bar on Wednesday night (Richard, Andrea and I along with Jordan and some other cool kids). The bar called Quigley's resembled an irish pub (or so I can only imagine, having never been to Ireland). The ceilings were low with exposed wooden beams and it would have been quite quaint had it not been for the elbow to elbow people, the loud chatter and $5.00 pints.

All in all, it was a decent night for a sociology experiment. The beers were good, I didn't feel too out of place, and now I know what it's like to hang out with the cool kids.

It's just too much work to be a cool kid. You have to wear the right clothes lest you be mocked in a subtle passive agressive manner by your friends:

Guy #1: "You have five minutes to change before we leave."
Guy #2: "But I'm ready now."
Guy #1 (supposedly joking): "You're wearing that?"
Guy #2: "Yeah, why?"
Guy #1: "Oh, I was just joking." (Emphatic laughing to convince everyone it really was a joke)

You also have to order drinks with trendy names like "purple rain" that you then have to explain to the bartender what exactly is in it which really defeats the purpose of the drink having a name.

And when someone wants to hang out, you have to hang out with them even if you are so tired that you pass out on the couch five minutes later, all just because you could not tell them you were too tired to hang out in the first place.

Yes, far too much effort, money, insecurity and hair gel are involved in the quest for coolness. I have come to the conclusion that the cool kids are generally as well-meaning and nice as the regular Joe, just insecure.

Turkey Dinner

Well, folks, my first turkey has been successfully roasted. I was surprised that it was remarkably comfortable to have Thanksgiving dinner with 8 people in a one bedroom apartment. I have decided that turkey dinner is one of my favorite meals. If you can eat something for 3 days straight and still be sad when the leftovers are gone, it must be good.

I went shopping at the earliest time that I have ever done so on the morning after, and I'm not sure if I'll do it again. It was not quite as exciting as I thought it would be. There were no ladies beating each other off for the last item for an excellent deal. There were really no flashing lights or gimmicks. Really the only thing it felt like was that the sun was going backwards - like I started shopping at night and then all of a sudden the sun came out. And I feel dull-minded and downright cranky at 5:30 in the morning.

Perfume etiquette

Yesterday a lady walked into my office. She was nice enough. She looked pretty normal. She wasn't wearing too much makeup or gaudy jewelry. She was wearing a nice smelling perfume. But she was wearing too much of it. I never got within 10 feet of her, but I could smell it. She left her coat in the same room as me and it made my eyes water. Then I started to feel slightly dizzy.

Here are my thoughts on perfume etiquette and 3 scenarios that should be avoided. If you can think of more, maybe I'll add them to the book I plan to publish on the subject.

Scenario #1: Space invasion. A person walks into a room and even though his/her body never enters the little bubble of personal space that we all like to keep around ourselves, the scent that the person is wearing is so overpowering that you feel like he/she has actually forced him/herself into your space.

Scenario #2: Vapo-trail. You are walking about 10 yards behind someone and you can tell what scent she is wearing. Only dogs should be able to find a person by following their smell.

Scenario #3: Lingering scent. You walk into a room and smell someone's perfume, but that person is nowhere to be seen. You know someone was there, but when?

So, ladies and gentlemen, feel free to don a nice scent, but be aware of how far it radiates.

I am the person they created automatic shut-off heated appliances for.

I came through the door to my office this morning to the smell of burnt coffee. I immediately knew that it was the fault of the primitive coffee maker in our office that I use everyday. It doesn't have a time at which it automatically shuts off. In addition to creating a fire hazard, I had to clean a crusty mess out of the pot this morning before I could brew my first cup.

I personally wouldn't even consider buying a heated appliance for my home/office that didn't have an automatic shut-off. Every heated appliance in my home has an automatic shut-off - curling iron, iron, coffee maker, even my hair dryer, though I think one would have to be a moron to leave that on.

Dancing

So, two nights ago at "ladies night" Lady #1 was like, "Hey, we should go out dancing again, but this time when you can come, Andie." And Lady #2 was like, "Yeah, we can teach you to dance." And I was like, "Yeah, that sounds like fun."

That was a flat out lie. It doesn't sound like one bit of fun. For one thing, I don't need to "learn how" to dance. It's not like anyone doesn't know how to dance these days. There are no steps to learn. All that appears to be required to be a good dancer is to be flamboyant about the good or bad looking movements that you decide you would like to make. Therein lies my problem. In order for me be flamboyant where there are a lot of people around, I suspect that I would have to consume a fairly large amount of alcohol. And a drunken flailing of limbs just seems like a bad idea.

You don't have to scrape the windows on the Metra

So, this morning while I was scraping my windshield, I found myself missing the Metra. I missed the hour long ride to work. I missed the loud lady that talked about Desparate Housewives every Monday morning and all the rest of the mornings about the dress code at work and how she had to buy such pretty, expensive clothing because of it. I missed the man who sat with three middle aged women and talked about how his wife had gained a little weight and was now a whopping size 2 after having 2 children. I missed the lady with the blackberry with the keys that were stuck and clicked every time she hit them. I missed the man that would elbow me in the shoulder because of his large newspaper. Come on, people, if you're going to read a paper on the train, make it the compact Sun-Times. I even missed the boy with the box the size of a small pony that decided to sit across from me one day and plop his belongings on my seat.

I think I need a better window scraper.

Darn those humbling experiences

I pride myself with being one of those people who can put things together, set the clock on the VCR, use each and every function of an answering machine, fix the settings on a computer, etc., all without the help of an instruction manual. I guess I think I'm an all around technical genius. Not so...

This week I have encountered several very humbling experiences.

#1 After the time change I have been attempting to change the time display on my phone at work. I even resorted to using the manual, and I still cannot for the life of me figure out how to do it.

#2 Clock function number two that I cannot conquer: ever since I have worked at this job, the dictaphone clock has been 50 minutes off. I found it irritating at first, but got used to it. Now, it is 1 hour and 50 minutes off, and I am finding that extraordinarily difficult to deal with.

#3 In an attempt to tape Gilmore Girls on Tuesday night, I decided: #1 Our VCR is broken, #2 Our VCR is not broken, but there is no way to output the image from our TV onto it, so I promptly took the dang machine over to Heather's and had her try (successfully) to tape the show, and then #3 Neither our VCR nor our tv are broken, I just cracked under the pressure of trying to hook up the VCR correctly to our tv, and was just unable to complete the simple task of taping a tv show.

So, goodbye to the idea that I am a technical genius... The only ones who ever thought I was were my grandma (who put the seat of her rowing machine on not backwards, but sideways, a feat that proved almost impossible to reverse), and my mother who, though brilliant in other ways, is only moderately technically literate. I can still put things together like nobody's business, but I can't program a VCR or set a clock.

Blue Raspberry

Today I was eating a handful of Jolly Ranchers for the first time in years, and I found out they have a new flavor, Blue Raspberry!!! I was so excited. Actually, I don't really know if it's new because I haven't had one for so long, but it was new to me.

Lazy Sun

The sun and I are having a bit of a falling out right now. I told him I thought he was getting lazier and lazier. I mean, going to bed at 4:45 in the afternoon and waking up at like 6:30 in the morning, and even when he is awake, he's wearing his cloud covered flannel pj's half the time. Frankly, I'm surprised he can hold his job. Now he's avoiding me. People say he's around during the day sometimes, but when I get out of work, he's gone again. It's just a little bit depressing.

I was thinking maybe we could pass a petition around to force the sun to work a bit later.

Sometimes I want to be a cat

Usually I would want to be a dog. High energy, ready for some fun, extraordinarily loyal, accepting of everyone who doesn't hurt the people I love, liking a good romp in the mud.

But nope, not today. I want to be a cat. I only want to interact with the people I feel like interacting with. I want to curl up in a sunny spot on a cushy rug and take a nap for longer than anyone thinks is prudent. I want a good stretch. I want to just take care of me. I want to be clean and warm and comfy.

Coffee

Oh, sweet nectar of life. A wave of calm goes into my belly with each sip. My life without coffee just would not be as rich. And the options for gifts to buy for my mother would be cut in half without coffee or coffee-related paraphernalia. I would be down to perennial plants and hand cream. I mean, come on, giving coffee beans or a coffee maker or a cool mug to someone for Christmas is so much cooler than a plant that they can't actually put in the ground until like May because it frosts in Wisconsin until mid-April.

And what would be the code for, "Let's sit down and chat for a bit," if I couldn't use the phrase, "You want some coffee?" I mean, it's much more tricksome to offer someone a legal addictive stimulant than to just come out and say, "I need emotional bonding time, and while we're at it, why don't we add a hot, steaming, delicious drug to the mix too?"

For some reason, I feel like a sophisticated connosieur when I have a cup of it in my hand.

I pity those poor souls who are trying to give it up. I tried that once. And then I was in such a stupor that I didn't remember why I was doing it, and I quit quitting coffee. It looks good, it smells good, it tastes good, and how could anything that makes me feel so good be so bad?

Well, I'm off to refill my mug...

Yoga

So, I was feeling very liberal last night on my way to yoga class listening to Chicago Public Radio. I agree! I don't think that they should drill for oil in Alaska even though gas prices would be lower.

Speaking of yoga, I just finished my third week of class, and it does a body more good than cow milk. I feel relaxed. I feel in control of my body. I feel in control of my breath. I am doing something just for me. I am even starting to think that holistic medicine is not insane. Weird...

You've heard of buyer's remorse...how about seller's remorse?

Ok, so I was going to sell my seasons of Angel and Buffy on half.com. And then I got a couple of buyers for a couple of seasons and I became remorseful. How dumb is that? So I apologetically issued refunds telling them that I wished them luck in buying these items from someone else who could actually part with them. Well, now I'm feeling a little bit silly, but at least I have my Joss Whedon creations that I can pick up and look at and I can pull out my favorite episodes whenever I want now that there are no longer any reruns anywhere on network tv.