October always will be the best of all possible months. The weather has been glorious, the colors beautiful. The trees look like they’re spreading multicolored gifts on the street every time the wind blows. St. Louis could not be more lovely. The light at this time of year makes everything look magical, dust motes dance on wind gusts, it’s the only season in which I feel really truly alive and as if I am in the right place.
This is my favorite time of year inside the house, as well. Decorating for Halloween is one of my most favorite things to do (I usually start shopping in August, and sometimes start decorating then too.) This year I am getting ready for am upcoming party at my place, so decorating has been even more fun than usual.
Here are a few snapshots of life around Timely Manor in the season of Halloween:
I hope you’ve enjoyed my photos. I’ve certainly been enjoying my home. Good luck in your own decorating adventures, if I take any more photos around the party time I will share.
Take care, be happy, may it always be autumn and never winter.
When your brother dies it’s like… it’s like you had this huge bag full of goodies. A big bag, bursting with Christmas presents and birthday cake and jokes and hugs and love and pizza and road trips and old stories. Because that’s what people are to us, right? Living, breathing unpredictable sources of entertainment and connection and (hopefully) joy. The bag for a brother is also full of petty squabbles and boring sibling rivalry past and future. It’s got a shared understanding of your parents’ weirdness. But mostly it’s a huge bag of all the things you love and count on and think of as part of you. It’s there, it’s one of your possessions. It always has been, it always will be, yours. You don’t even think about it, you can shove it in the back of a closet for weeks or months or however long, because it’s so firmly in your possession you know you will never let it go.
But then suddenly it disappears. And you keep reaching for it. When you need a joke or a hug or when it’s a holiday. When you need advice or to remember the details of that one story – you reach for it but the bag is gone. The contents are gone. There’s a big space, and that space used to hold all your certainty, and all your understanding of the future, and now the space is empty. All the promise, gone. All the laughs-to-come, gone. The pizza parties, the Christmas trees we were meant to decorate together, gone. He’s gone, his life is gone, his future is gone.
It hits me at the strangest times. I saw a baseball shaped bookend, he would have liked that. The other night at a show a man said he was grateful for many things, including that he didn’t have cancer. I couldn’t stop crying for half an hour.
And I don’t know that I am that fragile, you know? I think I am doing well. But the weirdest things sock you in the jaw, right from nowhere. From the space where that bag used to be, I guess, from that great gaping emptiness that lives in the place where I stored the files labeled “brother.”
When you go through a tragic event, everyone says to let them know if you need to talk. But no one actually wants to talk. I see it in the faces of people I try to explain my feelings to—and I get it. It’s really hard to know what to do in the presence of that kind of pain.
Who would want to share in the unmitigated hopelessness of the bereaved? And even if they did for some reason want to hear about it, who could ever understand? I can’t even understand my mom’s pain, nor she mine – so how could someone wholly disconnected from us even pretend to?
Who could grasp how I want to crack open my skull and carve my brain out with an ice cream scoop and fling it against the wall – just to stop the thoughts it is producing? What help would it be for someone to hear that? Can they say anything to change what’s happened? Can they offer any hope? No, there isn’t any. What has happened is done, and I have to learn to live with it.
This horrible crawling in my brain, the reminder that things are bad and will stay that way forever, death is final, those are things that time will temper, but the sad facts will never change.
So I don’t think I will tell anyone to let me know if they need to talk, ever again. Those words, like “I’m so sorry.” are empty and meaningless. Well intentioned I know, but hollow and trite all the same.
There is just nothing, nothing that helps. Nothing that makes the truth fade away, nothing to make it better or less wrong and twisted. The world is all garbled, I do not like it here, and I have no power to change it. So I will sit here with it, I guess, and no, I don’t need to talk.
“Again we fail to make amends
And wend our way between intents
And looking back, not moving on
Oh but something’s always wrong.”
I just had to have something from the Rocky Horror collection, just because. I had zero need of additional red lipsticks, but I wanted one. I really wanted to get Frank N Furter, which seemed the most wearable red to me, but the roll-out of these online was really screwed up. First I heard they would be available on the 29th of September, then Oct 2. They never went up on the 29th, but then I got an email that they were available on the 30th. I went to buy Frank N Furter, but it was listed as “Coming Soon” when all the other three colors were available. What? So then I had a quandary. Buy another color? Wait for Frank N Furter to go on sale? Wait and buy both at once? I was at work (like, you know, people ARE at 9 a.m. on a Tuesday) so I couldn’t just sit and refresh the site until the lipstick was available (was this a programming error? If so, fire everyone.)
I am glad I went ahead and bought Sin, because by the time I checked back in an hour or so, Frank N Furter had not only become magically available but had also sold out. As had all the other colors. Oh MAC. Get it together.
Since I didn’t think I had a good liner for Sin, I bought “Rocky Horror Lip Pencil” which is a re-promote of the permanent color Vino. I was on the fence about it, but it said Limited-edition M•A•C Rocky Horror packaging so I decided to go for it.
You can always buy the regular Vino, and the products are listed on the site as two separate items.
You can see which one I ordered:
And yet, there IS no special packaging, this stuff is just plain MAC packaging. You can see it in the photo at the top of the page, it’s plain as can be. That kind of thing pisses me off.
Ugh. Now I don’t know if I want to bother contacting them to complain or what. Anyway, on with the review.
The lipstick is nice, if you like MAC mattes, which can be dry and/or patchy. Exfoliate, moisturize, line well, it’s not a low-maintenance look by any means.
What I do like about it is that you can apply it in a less-intense way, with a lip brush, or in a super intense way from the tube, and both looks are still very opaque.
I didn’t need it, I like it OK, but the whole experience for me is very much soured by their misleading copy about the packaging. So 3 stars out of 5, am irritated.
Edited to add: I emailed their customer service, we will see what they say.
Edited again to add more: This was the answer I got from MAC
We are happy to provide you with the requested information regarding the Limited Edition Rocky Horror Lip Pencil in Vino. The outer packaging for this product is not different from the regular product, however, the pencil itself is actually a shinier black. The regular Lip Pencil is much more matte. We regret any confusion caused. Please let us know if you have any further questions.
I think I am going to send it back, just because I am cheesed off. The Sin lipstick is really growing on me though, I am wearing it with a heavy coat of Fresh Sugar lip balm under, so it’s not so dry.
It’s a beautiful night, really. The temperature is too hot for late September, so the light doesn’t match the atmosphere. It’s dark at seven but still eighty degrees. Other than being cheated of earlier-onset socks and sweater weather, there’s not much about which to complain. It’s disorienting though, the beautiful fall light, which should accompany chilled and dark breezes, winter winds blowing in a warning— but the air is hot and still and saturated with mosquitoes.
It adds to the overall feeling of strangeness, of time lost, of a life off kilter. It reminds me that things are just as wrong as they seem. Why shouldn’t the light match a different season, and why shouldn’t I be scratching my ankles deep into October? The world is changed, and these are the signs to keep me from forgetting.
Thing is, I don’t believe in signs. So I know my head and all its ideas are bullshit. I know my brain is seeking patterns to make sense of a flood of information it has yet to decide how to handle. On top of feeling angry at myself for this continued sadness, now I am also angry with myself for trying to fight a way out of it. There’s nothing my brain can do to please me, because I know my brain is doing what grieving people do and I don’t want to be one of them.
I keep telling people I am glad they don’t understand. The compassionate part of me probably is glad. The other part of me, the low, cruel part, hates them for not understanding. That part leaps up with vicious joy when someone reports bad news. Anything from a flat tire to a dying pet. GOOD I think. NOW YOU KNOW. YOU HAPPY PEOPLE. Serves you right for having a life that went on when mine ended.
I stamp that part of me down quickly, that’s the part of me I can’t afford to feed. But she’s down there, no matter if I try to starve her, she’s down there sucking sustenance from your pain. You need to know how it feels, she thinks, and she sneers at all your happiness and joy, all your apple-picking and days with family and last of the summer sunshine snapshots. Your birthdays and milestones and oh-so-adorable photos of children whom the world has yet to touch with rough hands.
You’re worthy of only her contempt, and she knows your comeuppance is near at hand. She lives in me, with the sad girl, and the strong girl, and the capable girl. She lives down there with the girl who wants to rest, and the one who wishes she could laugh, and the one who just wishes things could please go back to normal. All of them in there, jockeying for space – is it any wonder the me that houses them can’t sleep? It’s loud. And I prefer quiet.
Last week I was having a “MY SKIN SUCKS” fit and went into Ulta to try to find a remedy. I had been seeing Bunny (Graveyard Girl) rave about the IT Cosmetics Celebration Illumination powder foundation, and the reviews online were generally good, so I decided to give it a try. I didn’t go for the Illumination kind, I have enough inner illumination (that’s face oil) to make that unnecessary. So I went for the regular one.
Wow, spectacular fail. The worst. The worst ever. Not only did this stuff make my nose pores look like Shelob’s cave, but it also clung to my cheeks and made them look all dry and crusty. Plus it was kind of orange-y on.
I tried it with their included sponge, I tried it with my Real Techniques buffing brush, I tried it with my Tarte mineral foundation brush. No joy. No matter what I did I had massive crater pores AND I was still shiny in an hour. I had to take it back.
Nothing can work for everyone, I guess.
By the way, I figured out my skin was sucking because I had been slacking on my Ole Henriksen stuff. I had been using a Murad lightening serum that I got as a sample, and it was making me red and strange looking, and once I got back to my routine my face got happy and clear again. Reminder – if products work for you, you have to use them. Doh.
After cleansing (I rotate cleansing products) my night routine is this:
Two notes – this combo is good for my oily and aging skin. It might be way too harsh in acids for other people. The CC creme is enough moisturizer for me at this time of year, if I feel particularly dry one day I will add some oil over my treatments at night before I go to bed. Also, I pretty much never pay full price for any of these products. They work, and they’re certainly worth full price, but if you pay attention to sales and holiday kits (or holiday kits that go on sale!) you can usually stock up on smaller, or even full, sizes for much less than buying the products individually.
Hope your day is going better than expected, and that your skin is very happy.
Got this SpaRitual nail polish in my latest Glossybox, and it is decidedly “meh” to the point of “ugh.”
Applied super sheer, almost didn’t cover enough with two coats, horrible shrinkage after top coat, terrible tip wear, and chipping on the sides of the nails. This is two days wear, BTW and I have filed my nails so the tip wear/shrinkage isn’t showing, because I refused to photograph my nails looking that gross.
Here’s my box overall, nothing to write home about. I am excited about the Kryolan highlight, but haven’t had a chance to really test it out yet. The polish is going in the bin.