Summer-friendly makeup?

Holy crap, is it HOT out. Chicago went from 50 degrees to 90 degrees in, like, a week. Those of us who were bitching about it being too cold are now bitching about it being too hot.

I, however, have found yet another thing to complain about: the heat's grotesque effect on my makeup.

I would love to find some summer-friendly makeup that doesn't make my face melt.

Help?

Almost famous

Our wedding photos got featured in an ad for Hotel 71 in this month's issue of CS Bride! (p.103)


Can I just rave one more time about our amazing, amazing vendors?

Flowers: Lala from A Golden Leaf -- where our flowers are featured too
Photogs: Nick and Frank from Orange2Photo
Makeup: Renee from LoveHowYouLook (site's gone?)
Hair: Miles from Paul Rehder
Music: Kate and Rachel from Toast & Jam (nothing to do with the ad, but they were AWESOME)

GPOYW: Summer Edition

Nothing like wearing a scarf in mid-June.

I know the economy is shit, but seriously?

In case you can't read it:
Experienced web administrator with writing and editing experience. Full responsibililty for site development, production,content, usage and design. Responsible for design, layout and format for all in and out of house communications.


Translation:
I have unreasonable expectations and no real idea of how creatives work. Please be a talented graphic designer, site developer, writer and editor all in one, and please be idiotic enough to overlook the fact that those are four separate positions. But don't be so idiotic that you'll forget to proofread my emails and job postings -- that YOUR "responsibililty." Oh, and rather than paying you a significant salary that reflects the significant burden I'm placing on you with no real opportunity for success, I'm just going to give you $40k. Maybe $45k, but only if you're really, really good. Any takers?

Flip cup is intense

Just ask Ang, D, Al and Dave.

Every time Dave watches sports...

...This happens.


Me: Who's winning the match?

Dave: State.

National Scleroderma Awareness Month

June is National Scleroderma Awareness Month.

Sclero-who? I know. Strange word, rare disease, no celebrity spokesperson. Booo-ring. But this is an awareness month so there's no better time to be aware.

Rather than quote a bunch of statistics and use big medical words that make sense to no one, I'm going to tell you a little bit about how scleroderma affects my life.

My mom has scleroderma.

It's a chronic autoimmune disorder that is characterized by the hardening of the skin and/or internal organs. The mild version is debilitating, the severe version can be fatal.



Diagnosis

Back in 1993, my mom was diagnosed with scleroderma after she presented with some crazy shit going on with her hands. Numbness, whiteness -- it was definitely not normal. The scleroderma diagnosis didn't come easy, but after a battery of tests and doctor visits, it was official.

Based on her symptoms (and the general lack of research/knowledge about scleroderma), my mom had about a 20% chance of survival past 5 years. Even those of you who suck at math know that it's been more than 5 years since 1993, so she's thankfully surpassed that morbid prediction.

At the time though, there was no way we could know when and if scleroderma would be fatal to her. She had three children under 10 at the time, so I can only imagine what a devastating diagnosis this was.

She and my dad sat us kids down one evening to tell us that "mommy's sick." I don't remember much of the conversation except for this exchange:

Me: Mom, are you going to die?
Tactful as ever.

Mom: [pause] Well, honey... I'm not planning on it.

That was good enough for me! Kids are so stupid, but can you really think of a better answer to that kind of question?



Growing Up

The shitty thing about scleroderma is that people rarely just get scleroderma. In addition to scleroderma's common Calcinosis, Raynauds, Sclerodactyly and Telangectasias, my mom also has many more ailments I can't keep track of. (Not to be calloused about it; it's just true.)

This meant that my mom was tired a lot, couldn't walk up and down stairs too much, and was in pain from stiff joints.

I don't know why, but her physical inability to do laundry is what I remember so clearly about growing up. Aside from the laundry being all the way down the stairs in our basement, my mom couldn't lift the laundry basket either (her arms wouldn't go that high back then). Guess who did the laundry for our family?

Me -- I swear.

My mom made me a cute, little color-coded chart so I knew what buttons to push for different load sizes and cycles. It was little things like that -- pitching in around the house more, not expecting my mom to take me shopping for 3 hours at a time, being quiet while my mom napped during the day, parking in the handicap spaces on her bad days -- that served as the reminders that my mom is not a healthy person.



Now

She'll never be healthy, but my mom is doing great. She's doing a hundred times better than she was when I was younger.

Oh, and looking at her? You'd have no idea that she's the least bit unhealthy.

Which... can be awkward. So many times, my mom has made small talk with strangers who end up saying things like, "At least we've got our health!"

Oops.

But other than those uncomfortable situations, scleroderma has become a manageable disease. It's still a struggle for her, but as far as this disease goes, we've got it GOOD.



Awareness!

• Learn more about scleroderma from the Scleroderma Foundation, Wikipedia, NIAMS
  
• Join the Facebook group
• Donate to the Scleroderma Foundation
  
• Link to this post
• Write a quick post about how June is National Scleroderma Awareness Month just by copying and pasting these bullets
  

Anyway, that's my scleroderma story. Please, please feel free to ask any questions about it!

My morning ambition

I did pilates this weekend. Twice.

You can pick your jaw back up off the floor now.

(I use a laughable DVD from 1999, but that shit gave me a rocking stomach back in college, so I'm not gonna knock it too much.)

Anyway, now that I have done pilates two days in a row, my ambition was soaring last night. Like, ridiculously inflated.

So, my Monday morning plan -- as of 10pm last night -- was to wake up at 6:15am to do 45 min of pilates before showering and getting into work by 9am. I have NEVER worked out in the morning before, but I was feeling quite unstoppable after such an active weekend.

Aaaand then reality set in. This is how my morning really went:

5:15am: Dave's alarm goes off. I immediately switch my 6:15 alarm to 7:15. Fuck pilates.
7:15am: My alarm goes off. I change it again to 7:50. Fuck showering.
7:50am: My alarm goes off. I change it to 8:00. Fuck doing my hair; just put it in a ponytail.
8:00am: I drag my lazy self out of bed and get ready for work.
8:45am: I remember I need to sew a button back on my jacket and start doing so NOW.
9:10am: Tired of fighting with the infuriating button, I finish the half-assed job and leave.
9:30am: I make it into work after a power-walk through River North.

Ambition, FTW.

I've created a monster

As several of you know, my mom is now on Twitter. Sure, she can't figure out how to text worth a shit, but somehow, she has mastered the art of the tweet.

A few of her gems:

Right before she left Chicago

After she got home and realized her fridge broke.

Don't feel bad if she doesn't follow you back -- she frightens easily.

Anyway, I guess this whole Twitter thing has inspired her to actually check her email and get on IM. (I tried forcing Gmail on her, but she's not ready for the Goog. She's sticking with Yahoo for now.)

Last night, she got on Yahoo Chat and pretty much immediately after I said hi to her, this happened:


And there you have it. Fran has burst into the 21st century with a flurry of curse-filled tweets and awkward chats. Welcome, mom. Now you're just like the rest of us.

Have I shown you my new glasses?

I don't know if you remember, but I've had the same glasses for, oh, 14 years. They're not TERRIBLE, I guess, but I finally got tired of Dave's reaction each time I'd put them on: Either he'd make fun of my relentlessly or he'd look at me with an unbearable amount of pity.

So, here's the before and after:

Before: Tortoise wire frames from the little kid's section because of my freakishly narrow face.

After: Trendier chocolate brown frames with pink on the inside

It'll be hilarious when the fashion trends circle back around and I reflect on this post going, "What the HELL was I thinking with those thick frames?" For now? I look good. I mean real good.