Turning demure paws into femme fatale claws with your friends at Vaseline

So, I’m gross. I rubbed my arm today and sent a small flurry of dead skin cells drifting across my desk. Yuck, right? Why am I sharing this? I don’t know, I guess I haven’t read anything interesting lately.

I posted once about how dry and flaky I am, which, troublingly enough, has been the most influential move of my blogging career (two Carmex purchases at press time — they should put me on payroll). So in the interest of continuing my Fannie Mae-esque sway over the personal care market, I’ll recommend another holy grail purchase for lizard people like myself and send those granola-munching assholes at Aveeno into a tailspin. Yeah, that’s right, Aveenists. I’m coming for you.

To begin, I’m a recovering nail-biter, proud to say that I can now regularly open soda cans and scratch bug bites. Of course sometimes I slip up and go on a bender, shredding the hell out of them in moments of extreme boredom or nervousness. As a result, my nails are almost always pretty weak and thin, no matter their length, prone to bending or chipping. This gets exacerbated in wintry conditions, forcing me to clip them (or, more often than not, bite them), which makes my already small fingers look like little cocktail weenies. Also, my hands are always cracking no matter the weather.

In conclusion, I don’t know how I’ve managed to date. But all is not lost for me, for, lo, I have Vaseline Healthy Hand and Nail Conditioning Hand lotion with Keratin and Vitamin E.

Don’t be deterred by the Vaseline label! It’s not uncanny and weird like Vaseline’s flagship product, the tub of 100% petroleum jelly, which has no defining purpose but is somehow always there, lurking inconspicuously on the bureaus and in the medicine cabinets of America. This stuff has a purpose, and that purpose is one of its primary ingredients: keratin. What is keratin? Wikipedia says,

Keratins are a family of fibrous structural proteins; tough and insoluble, they form the hard but nonmineralized structures found in reptiles, birds, amphibians and mammals. They are rivaled as biological materials in toughness only by chitin.

In other news, using this lotion is the equivalent of slathering Teflon all over your fingernails. And it shows, especially in the nails. When I use this stuff regularly, my fingernails grow faster and are considerably stronger — strong enough that I am actually deterred from biting them because I am intimidated. And it makes your hands super smooth, too — probably a result of the Vitamin E, which is way less cool. Despite their creepster status, the folks at Vaseline know how to make a good hand lotion. This stuff is the bomb dot com and I definitely recommend picking it up the next time you’re looking to waste a little money in the personal care aisle.

Queen of the Tundra!!!!!

Too bad about the sparse foliage (compared to last semester, at least), but I can’t really complain. I can see forever!

Welcome to the new year; what’s next?

It’s easy to watch this video with a fair amount of trepidation–technological singularity and paradigm shifts, anyone? No? Am I the only one who lies awake at night after reading about this on Wikipedia?

It also reminds me of my own mortality. I’ve come to realize that, no matter how many blogs I follow or gizmo reviews I read, eventually I will become the future incarnation of the old lady who still thinks Laserdisc is the future and needs to call her grandson every time she wants to use the internet box.

This is the holographic projection I’ll have to buy when my kids get me one of those new Worldwide Subconscious Mind Meld Information Generators for CompletelySecularCelebrationofTwinklyLightsandGingerbreadMas. And as I watch it, my hands will curl into gnarled, veiny fists and I’ll shout, hoarsely, “But how do I play Tetris?”

Inaugural thoughts

So I went to Washington this weekend. I left on Saturday morning and got back on Wednesday afternoon. It was a lot of walking, getting up before the sun, and standing, standing, standing. In any other situation I would be miserable–and, full disclosure, I sometimes was. But I’m glad I went.

Certainly there have been moments where I’ve wondered whether my attendance was some sort of self-serving gimmick. Despite the fact that I love Barack Obama and the campaign he ran and the administration he promises, I can’t shake a certain feeling of skepticism over all of this. I wonder how much of my decision to go to the inauguration was motivated by actual passion about what I was going to see and how much was simply a drive to say, “I was there.” It’s like the people who reached out and touched Obama when he passed by them at rallies. Not shaking his hand, just touching. Why?

On some weird level all of that really worries me.

But I was there, and I’m glad I was. For all my skepticism and cynicism and anxiety about the structure of our democracy and the institutions that make us who we are (confrontational, self-serving, partisan, pitbullish), somehow I was able to push those feelings aside for the day (as I did on Election Night, when I got embarrassingly intoxicated and cried like a big drunk baby). Because in the end, when other people reach out their hand to touch someone, you do too. And it feels good, reaching out with all those people toward one point.

When Barack Obama came out of the Capitol and stepped down onto that little outcropping where he gave his oath, everyone started waving. And, I mean, we were pretty far away from the Capitol, you know? There was no reason for us to wave. But we all did, and I watched the coverage on CNN that night and I guess everyone else did too, waved their little American flags all the way down to the Lincoln Memorial. That looked pretty cool.

I guess what I mean to say in this post is that my going to the inauguration wasn’t really about Barack Obama. I’m not touched by rituals, oaths, any of that. He’s President and that’s it, I don’t need to see him raising his hand to make it real for me. I think I went because I wanted to see that scale, all those American flags. I wanted to be in a surging, cheering, waving crowd, and not just at some concert or festival or whatever. I wanted to be like a sponge, soaking in all those good feelings, having that big happy communal experience.  And hey, it worked. I was happy, everyone was happy, it was great. I had a good time.

Approaching Inauguration

Start with this lovely piece of paper:

Add this beautifully written article by the inimitable Peggy Noonan (say what you will about her politics, she knows her way around the language).

I think I’m ready for the chill and crush of Tuesday morning.

Five ways to resolve the Minnesota Senate recount debacle

1. Thumb wrestling while treading water in Lake Calhoun. Winner receives Senate seat. If both drown, Amy Klobuchar becomes grand dictator of Minnesota, receives imperial zeppelin and extra staff.

2. Field day with teams made up of candidate plus campaign staffers, set at the Metrodome and open to the public (priority obviously given to Lizard People supporters). Events should include sack race, tug-of-war, and a climactic Red Rover showdown. Winning team receives Senate seat. Losers must live at the Metrodome forever–like Mole People, only above ground.

3. Butter sculpture contest, judged by special election (no absentee ballots allowed). Winner receives Senate seat. Loser eats butter sculpture. At the Metrodome.

4. Minnesota gives up state status, becomes eleventh province of Canada. Minnesota receives free health care, ceremonial monarchy, and awesome new flag. America loses Minnesota, weeps.

5. Jesse Ventura punches both candidates in the face. Jesse Ventura receives Senate seat.

YouTube Roundup: Babies Feeding Dogs

1. This video documents an obviously mutually beneficial relationship, as the baby is having the time of his life and the dog managed to snag a whole–what is that, a pineapple ring? Sponge cake? Labs will eat anything.

2. What strikes me about this one is how well-behaved Rorke (the dog) is, just standing on that rug waiting for his handout. Then the kid starts banging around and you’re like, “Maybe that’s why Rorke keeps such a polite distance.” Either way, good dog. Also, good line: “Give that one to Rorke, he had that one in his mouth.”

3. Okay, how old is that ringleader dog? Seriously, he has the thousand-yard stare going on. Either way, he means business. By the end of the video, when the dog (very methodically!) removes the plate from the frame, the baby clearly becomes the odd one out. You can see it on his face. “Oh. Okay, you take that. I’ll just watch.”

4. How many Cheez-Its can a Chihuahua eat before it explodes? Surely no more than three. That kid looks really serious about murdering that thing, but alas, limited resources.

5. Proof that baby-retriever alliances know no geopolitical bounds.

6. Okay, that cracker was definitely already in that dog’s mouth before the baby ate it. I suppose with two big dogs in the house, you take what you can get. We only have one big guy here and our house has the hygienic standards of Bangladesh on a good day. Also, check out jilted (and visibly disappointed) second dog on the edge of the frame. He folds one paw under in this very nuanced “I see how it is” manner halfway through the clip.

7. Okay, there isn’t a lot of feeding going on in this video, but I had to include it as part of this funny little sub-culture of YouTube videos made by pitbull owners. Most of them have titles like “Vicious pitbull attacks baby” and they’re like the cutest videos you will ever see in your life, I’m serious.

8. The title of the video, “This is love,” is completely accurate–this dog is a saint. That’s his food and he’s letting it be rationed out to him kibble by kibble–until he’s finally like “sorry, kiddo” and digs in. Those of us looking to be more patient and serene in 2009 would do well to emulate old Marlo.

Ouch. I caved.

And believe me, I’d be totally ashamed if I weren’t so in love with the damn thing.

Welcome home!

From NOAA…

…WINTER STORM WATCH REMAINS IN EFFECT FROM 6 AM CST SATURDAY THROUGH SUNDAY AFTERNOON…

A STRONG LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM WILL ENTER WESTERN MINNESOTA ON
SATURDAY AND REACH CENTRAL WISCONSIN BY SUNDAY. ACCUMULATING SNOW WILL ACCOMPANY THE LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM WITH AMOUNTS POSSIBLY EXCEEDING SIX INCHES BY SUNDAY NIGHT FOR CENTRAL AND EAST CENTRAL MINNESOTA AND WEST CENTRAL WISCONSIN…INCLUDING THE TWIN CITIES METROPOLITAN AREA.

IN ADDITION TO THE SNOW…STRONG NORTHWEST WINDS WILL DEVELOP SATURDAY NIGHT AND CONTINUE ON SUNDAY CAUSING CONSIDERABLE BLOWING AND DRIFTING SNOW.

ANOTHER ROUND OF BITTERLY COLD AIR AND DANGEROUS WIND CHILLS IS
EXPECTED TO ARRIVE LATER SUNDAY.

A WINTER STORM WATCH MEANS THERE IS A POTENTIAL FOR SIGNIFICANT
SNOW…SLEET…OR ICE ACCUMULATIONS THAT MAY IMPACT TRAVEL.
CONTINUE TO MONITOR THE LATEST FORECASTS.

I missed you too, Minnesota!

Of course, all blizzards pale in comparison to the 1991 Halloween (yes, Halloween) blizzard, in which parts of the Twin Cities received 28 inches by the end of the three-day onslaught, a record for a single storm in the area. Observe:

Honestly, it’s like a mythological event for Minnesotans. It seems like all snow discussions spiral on back to the 1991 Halloween blizzard. My dad speaks very fondly about taking me out trick-or-treating by car.

In the dead of winter, keeping a stiff (and smooth) upper lip.

Some people mark the arrival of winter by the first snowfall, the first lights on the trees, or the first time their car refuses to start. For me, winter has officially arrived when I have more than three types of lip balm in my bag.

Because both my parents have fairly dry skin and I’ve spent my whole life going through fairly punishing winters, between late November and early March I basically molt. I don’t mind having dry skin–it’s fairly manageable–but having chapped lips drives me up a wall. I hate how it feels, I hate how it looks, I hate the idea of it, I just cannot deal at all. So in addition to exfoliating my lips in the shower, slathering stuff on them at night, and just generally touching and poking and worrying about them constantly, I load up on products and keep those around all the time in the event of sudden flakiness.

Carmex is my go-to. I’m one of those consumers who gets sucked in by the no-frills packaging because I think that it somehow denotes sincerity on the part of the manufacturer. This also explains my loyalty to Neutrogena products–everything just seems so medicinal! But Carmex is, like, crazy medicinal. They don’t even advertise because they know that people like me will see these little yellow-lidded pots in line at Walgreens and go “ooh, this must be legit.” I tried using the Carmex in a tube, which was alright, but I think the pot is way better. I slather this stuff on before I go to bed at night and it does wonders.

I don’t even know if I can buy Chapstick after “I Kissed a Girl.” I used to love the cherry flavor but now whenever I put it on I just feel like I’m making a pop culture reference. I also like (and carry) Burt’s Bees, but really, when it comes to lip products, I go for the stuff that comes in a pot. It just seems more legit, you know? Tubes are for weenies who want nice kissable lips when it’s convenient for them; pots are for people whose really need it. However, tubes work well for me during times when it’s not exactly socially acceptable to be dipping your finger into a container of petroleum jelly–class and church, basically. Actually, class has never stopped me from going for the Carmex. So, just church, really.

Rosebud Salve has become the official lip product of hipsters across the United States. It’s sold at Urban Outfitters, Anthropologie, and now American Apparel has it on their website. Makes sense–it comes in a sweet old-fashioned tin pot, so it looks extra low-maintenance and cool when you’re pulling it out of your canvas tote bag, like something you stole from your urbane fur coat-wearing grandma’s house rather than the Chapstick that everyone else picked up at Walgreens. I like this stuff because it doubles as a moisturizer for dry hands, so I’m not tempted to carry around a little bottle of hand lotion around with me and look like a total freak.

However, I think that Rosebud Salve is going to get dethroned really soon though. You heard it here first–Bag Balm is the next big thing. This stuff is disgusting. It looks like someone repackaged and sold the grease can in your refrigerator. It also kinda smells. It’s meant for cows. But it. Is. Amazing. If your lips or hands or elbows are really awful, slather some of this stuff on before you go to bed at night and I will guarantee that you will wake up feeling as if tiny angels scrubbed at each troublesome skin cell on your body with the finest of tiny angelic loofahs. It is divine intervention. Plus, look at that packaging. Not only is it tin–the hippest metal around!–but it has udders on it. I don’t carry this stuff around–I would lose friends, seriously, it’s really gross–but we have a big thing of it at home and you better believe I use that stuff on the regular. Expect to see it on a vanity in the background of next season’s Anthropologie catalog.