Post Labor Day Survival Guide

Labor Day is the most depressing holiday.  After all, you're celebrating being a working adult and the end of summer.  Both of which suck.  The good part is, you won't be covered in greasy sunscreen and gritty sand anymore.  You don't have to worry about bees when you eat lunch outside to bask in the sunshine.  And your co-worker won't be complaining about how ungodly hot it is in August anymore.   Because it's going to turn cold and the days are gradually going to get shorter.   Which just means your co-worker is going to transition into her seasonal complaints about how chilly and bleak it is outside.

While you're busy bracing for the return of your seasonal depression, don't forget to stock up on some important essentials.  Like moisturizer, Chapstick and a cute woolly hat that keeps you warm while hiding your staticky hair.  Preferably one that isn't itchy that you can wear all day because once you put it on your head, you'll have to commit either wearing it all day or wearing the hat hair you'll be left with all day.  But even more importantly, you'll need to have an arsenal of Kleenex, cold medicine and hand sanitizer to prepare for cold and flu season.  Which starts exactly the day after your kids go back so school.  However, the real essentials you need to have on hand are comfort foods (mac & cheese and ramen noodles), snacks (chips and chocolate), a fully stocked bar and a Costco sized pack of batteries for the remote control.

There is an upside to life post Labor Day though.  I mean sure, you can't wear white, but come on....who can wear a white shirt or better yet pants, without staining them anyway?  It's impossible really.  So, you'll get cozy in that adorable sweater you never wear.  You know, the wool one that will shrink if you put it in the wash.  Until you remember you don't even have to wash sweaters.  It's true.  Especially because you're not going to last 20 minutes in that sweater because it's itchy as hell.  But, that's why you've kept that raggy old sweat shirt with all the stains on it that you've had since college.  Oh, you tell yourself that you won't wear it out of the house, but you'll forget about that and go to pick up some ice cream at the grocery store.  Where you will see every person you know.

Ok, so maybe that was just a continuation of the less negative downsides of post Labor Day life.  There really is an upside.  You have a lot of completely valid post Labor Day excuses for cancelling any obligatory social engagements you don't want to attend.  The weather, the flu, frozen pipes at your house that have sprung a leak, pulling a muscle scrapping the ice off your windshield.  It doesn't matter if they are true or not, they will still work.  It gets even better though.  The best part is you don't have to shave after Labor Day.  Not until the following Memorial Day.  But you may need to invest in a weed whacker come spring.

Skin Deep

I've never had good skin.  In fact, I had acne until I was 40 years old.  Now, I know beauty is only skin deep and all that.  That there are much bigger things in the world to be concerned about.  And I'm concerned about all of them and contemplating them keeps me up at night.  But apparently I'm greedy and vain so...I'd also like good skin I don't feel like I have to hide...you know, before I die.  Which, let's face it, is getting closer every day.

So, last year when I went to the dermatologist concerned about a asymmetrical brown spot above my lip, I feared the worst.  Skin cancer.  That's when she told me it was "just an age spot".   And I was horrified.  How can I be old enough to have age spots?  And then I thought about it.  My mom, who was a grandmother at my age, lamenting that her once pale, youthful skin had turned ruddy and started to sag.  Which is exactly where I'm at minus the grandmother bit.  Even so, it's weird how my mother seemed so much older than me when she was my age.

What was also horrifying is that the dermatologist suggested laser treatment.  Really, it's so bad that shooting a hot laser beam at my face is my best option?  I don't think so.  Which is why I opted for the lowest concentration of Retin-A, the least invasive treatment, instead.  Except, Retin-A is expensive.  Like $100 a tube.  And even the lowest concentration dries out your skin and makes it flaky.  Which counter intuitively, only makes your skin produce more oil.  So, then it's dry and flaky but covered in as much oil as the Exxon Valdez spill.

Last winter when I was in Mexico at a pharmacy scoring cheap drugs for the eye infection I'd contracted on vacation, I had a brilliant idea.  Why not buy the stronger concentration of Retin-A because it's only $25 in Cancun.  I mean if the low concentration isn't working (because I stopped using it altogether because of the side effects...although that seems a minor detail) why not take it up a notch?  Of course, that's exactly what I did and I started using it diligently once a week on Sunday nights.  Monday and Tuesday my blotchy, sun spotted skin looks fairly normal, but on Wednesday it starts to get really wonky.  My face turns red, flaky and goes all Exxon Valdez on me.  And it lasts until Saturday.  Then on Sunday, the whole process starts over again.  It kinda seems pointless to continue.  But, I'm no quitter, so I keep repeating the cycle hoping things will get better.  Which is really stupid.

Recently, I was at the spa buying a gift card for a friend and I was perusing through their brochure of services.  Including skin treatments.  The spa offers free consultations with a specialist on which procedure would work best for your skin.  So there's microdermabrasion, where I imagine someone takes a circular sander to face, which sounds painful.  And then there's, of course, laser treatment.  Which is sounding more appealing by the day.  Especially if it's the same laser they use for hair removal.  Like it's a two-for-one deal, and it will remove blotchy age spots and chin/moustache hairs.  In which case, I might actually consider it.

The Burning Question

Recently my husband asked me a burning question.  I don't know how long he'd waited before he finally did.  Just when you think you know someone, you find out you don't.  That they have secret desires they've never told you about.  Because they know that you'll be shocked and maybe even horrified at the thought of what they want you to do.  Which of course was exactly what happened.

So what did my husband ask me to do that I found so repulsive?  Did he want me to try something kinky in bed?  Get a boob job?  Want us to join a cult?  Move to Florida?  No.  None of those.  My husband asked me if I'd go to Burning Man with him.  For those of you who don't know what Burning Man is, it's an annual event celebrating art and community held in the middle of the desert in Nevada.  People travel from all over to camp out for nine days and when it's over they leave no trace that they were ever there.  Sounds kinda fun, right?  After all, I really like art and camping.  I tried to be open minded.  I did.  But, did I mention 60,000 people go to Burning Man every year?

When my husband met me he knew I was a socially anxious introvert's introvert.  He knew exactly what he was getting into.  I'm not going to miraculously change thirty years later and suddenly love being around crowds of people.  In fact, I think I've actually gotten worse in that respect.  And I'm pretty sure I'm well on my way to becoming a full on recluse.  But, I really did consider the question, because I know it's something my husband has a burning desire to do.

But, then I considered all the people that would be there.  ALL OF THEM.  And the fact that I wouldn't be able to get away from them.  Because they'll be everywhere and they'll be loud.  Blaring their music until all hours of the night.  Have I ever mentioned how much I love sleep?  On top of that it's held in August in the desert, so not only is it going to be sweltering hot, but no one's going to be showering.  But, they are going to be eating.  Which means all 60,000 people are going to be using the porta potties.  Which is precisely why I have a burning desire to stay home.

But, I have a burning question of my own...

does anyone want to go to Burning Man with my husband?

My Favorite Jeans

I love jeans.  And I wear them just about every day.  So when your favorite pair has little hole right by the back pocket that you know is going to turn into a huge, gaping hole when you bend down to get the cheap laundry detergent off the bottom shelf at Target, that's when you know you need to get some new ones.  And that's when you find out that they don't even make your favorite jeans anymore.

I have a whole system for buying jeans.  I buy them in a dark wash, a size too big so they shrink to just the right size with repeated washes and then I wear them until they are absolutely indecent.  The problem is, now they make most jeans with that stretchy elastane stuff in them.  So, your jeans aren't going to shrink at all, in fact, they're going to stretch.  Which means if you put your jeans on in the morning and they fit you perfectly, an hour later they're going to be hanging down to your knees.  Which means you actually have to buy jeans a size too small for you and then look indecent for an hour until they stretch to accommodate you.  (Not that I've tried this, but I assume it would work.) Then there's that weird 'thwacking' sound that stretchy jeans make when you walk.  No thank you!

I just want regular jeans.  Not high rise mom jeans.  Not ones that are pre-ripped because I'm very capable of doing that on my own.  And definitely not ones with the back pockets bedazzled.  (No one looks good in blingy jeans, by the way.  NO ONE. )   I want my favorite low cut 524 Levi's in a boot cut (because boot cut makes my short legs look longer).  Although 518s would also do the trick.  Because once you find jeans that look good on you, you don't give up on them.  And by 'look good on you', I mean that they flatter your ass.  Because that's what jeans are all about.  Everyone on the planet knows this.

So, I've looked at the Levi's website.  Because I'd even pay full price + shipping & handling for my favorite jeans.  That's how desperate I am.  And that's when I confirmed that they don't even make 524s anymore.  Everything is a stretchy mid rise or high rise skinny jean.  To which I'm just going to say, skinny jeans are the least flattering cut on basically everyone on the planet, so I don't even get why they're popular.  But, then again, I don't get why most things that are popular are popular which is probably been why I've never been popular.  Because I think trends are stupid and I like to stick to the timeless classics.  Like cotton.

In my quest to find my Levi's, I looked on Amazon, where they do list having 524s, but not in my size or the wash and cut I'm looking for.  Plus, I really hate to buy from Amazon, the overlord of the free world, even though I do it all the time because they have the stuff you can't find anywhere else.  That's when my husband suggests e-bay.  BINGO!  I find 3 pair in the correct model/size/wash and snatch them up.  At least I thought I did.  Until they arrived in my mailbox.  And I discovered that I ordered one pair with a short inseam.  So they're like capris on me.  Which kinda makes me feel like I have long legs.  Which has never happened before.  Which is precisely why I kept them.  That and my ass looks good in them.  

Pack it in

My husband I have different packing styles.  I'm a minimalist.  And he's a maximalist.  I want to pack only the necessities.  But, my husband likes to pack for the possibilities.  I'd say I'm this way because I've become an expert packer.  And while I've gotten pretty good with all the traveling I've done over the years, that's not the reason.  The reason is I'm lazy.

So, I generally don't look up the weather of where I'm going before I go there.  I like to imagine the ideal weather, depending on the season of travel, and pack for that.  Because looking at a weather app is way too much work.  Plus, being cold and shivering burns calories.  The thing is, I get pissed if I don't wear and/or use everything I pack at least once.  So if I pack a rain jacket and it didn't rain it seems like a complete waste of space.  Oh, I know I should be grateful it doesn't rain and I don't need the jacket, but that's not the way my brain works.  And when the trip is over and it's time to repack everything?  I don't neatly fold or separate things, the way my husband does.  I shove and commingle.  Because, if I packed correctly (which come on, I obviously did), everything in my bag is already dirty (ok...extremely funky) and it's all going to get washed anyway.

There is an exception to my minimalist ways though...

Food.  When we're camping, I never skimp on food.  In fact, that's when I become a maximalist.  Not only, do I grossly overpack the amount of food that we will need...I also grossly overeat the food that I pack.  I don't know why, but there's something about sitting on my ass in the middle of nature watching the wind blow through the leaves of aspen trees, that leaves me famished.  And I have a running inventory in my head of exactly what food I packed.  Which I run through constantly to determine what will satiate my appetite.  A ham and cheese wrap with chipotle mustard and a pickle?  A family size bag of Chex mix?  Peanut M&Ms?  Marshmallows?  Yes.  ALL OF IT.  Washed down with an Arizona iced tea.  And I don't even like marshmallows or Arizona iced tea.  But, I do when I'm camping.  Because apparently when I travel I'm an egalitarian omnivore, packing it all in.  

And before you know it, I've gone and  maximized the size of my thighs and I'm no longer travel size.