Your Thursday Moment of Zen

Because it just goes without saying...

Let Him Down Easy

So you've already heard about the "Safer Sex" gift box from Nars - yup, the one with the condoms - which is all fine and dandy for a few giggles here and there, and - hey, great cause, right? What you don't realize, however, is that there is an alternative for those of us who would like to give the gift of a naughty-named highlighter without being scandalized by the accompanying French letters...

From the Sephora website:

NARS Safest Set comes with a little black book that lists out all of the ways to
say 'no' and let your wannabe lover down easy. The cream stick with a cult
following, Multiple in Orgasm, is included to deliver a peachy flush and a
shimmery accent to eyes, cheeks, and lips.

Hee!

Randomesticity: Downward Spiral, Upward Crawl

So this week has been very cruel to me. I don't want to get into the dirty details, but I will say that I'm a bit emotionally spent from all the hand-wringing and spontaneous crying, and I've already called it a mental-health week to recover from all the insanity.

Not everything, however, is pure insanity.

Take, for example, the story ideas that I've been kicking around in my head: a fashionista moment I had over the weekend during the Valerie Joseph anniversary party at Ala Moana Center (bring on the fall clothes, I say!), tips on business-casual dressing that I've picked up from a career fair; and - just in time for Election Day! - a roundup of Honolulu Anchorwoman Hair.

I've decided to pass on the fall makeup collection coverage because I am SERIOUSLY broke-da-broke, so you won't hear any ooh-ing from me about the new MAC stuff. I'm also passing up on the Halloween revelry due to a seminar that I have to attend first thing in the AM on the Leeward side of Oahu. What I won't be passing up on, however, is a chance to dress up - and you can bet I'll be writing about that as well.

In the meantime... how about some eye candy to tide us over? (And, yes, les fragrances pour homme count towards this blog.)

Haaaaaaaaaaave You Met Josh?

I'll go ahead and admit this as somebody who has watched How I Met Your Mother for as long as I have: I never really found Josh Radnor particularly attractive. And I don't mean that because I think he's ugly; on the contrary, there's something about him as a person that brings out the irrational dislike for some reason, even though I know that the humorless, pretentious character that he plays on TV is exactly that.

(Which reminds me: Ted Mosby, the character? Is so the kind of guy I would've checked out for five minutes on the first day of the semester before he opens his mouth and whomps the rest of the class over the head with his good-God-WTF-have-you-been-smoking insights on, say, globalization or post-modern irony. Yep, the same guy who ends up with you in small-group discussion a few minutes later, and mentions off-the-cuff that he and his really amazing long-term girlfriend spent the summer in India for humanitarian work, and just brought back the best recipe for veggie samosas. Yep, I went to college with that guy... why do you ask?)

That said, I was surprised to find out - from a HIMYM board on Television Without Pity - that the same Josh Radnor wrote an op-ed article for the Los Angeles Times.

It really shocks me when I encounter people who think kindness doesn't
matter. Because I think it's pretty much the only thing that matters. This
should not be mistaken as a call for humorlessness or some naive, fussy
moralizing on my part. It's not about being "good" (a loaded concept, to say the
least) or "nice," which is really just a social convention that often has to do
with worrying about being liked (occasionally masking real deviousness). It's
ultimately about compassion, recognizing that all of us are going through it all
in our own particular way, no matter our social status.

It's not our job to play judge and jury, to determine who is worthy of our kindness and who is not. We just need to be kind, unconditionally and without ulterior motive, even—or rather, especially—when we'd prefer not to be. For me, it's simple and not entirely unselfish: When I'm kind, I feel good; when I'm not, I feel horrible. (Of course, the publication of this piece now ensures I will be caught on tape
being a total schmuck.)

Of course, this is the kind of Midwestern-bred optimism (and the boy did grow up in Columbus, after all) that would get a certain type of celebrity immediately tagged as a hypocritical Pollyanna by the scandal-mongers who populate the comment sections of Perez Hilton. As a former op-ed writer, however, I do think that putting yourself out there with an essay like this - whether you're the lead actor of a successful sitcom, or a housewife who merely dabbles in writing - takes a good measure of guts. Lord knows how many times I've been congratulated for something I've written, and how quickly I forget the compliments once I realize that my words are being dissected and misconstrued by people who have yet to have a conversation with me in real life.

That said: Apart from the being-from-Ohio/acting-in-my-favorite-sitcom thing, I know that I'm responding to Josh Radnor's opinions without knowing anything about, say, which way he's voting this November, or which day of the week does he choose to take off his schedule and consider as sacred - although he does hint at some of his beliefs in the article (to which I say, ahem). Yet, I will say that I do, indeed, agree with what he has to say here about kindness to others, and bravo to him for putting himself out on a limb and speaking out for such a neglected virtue in the first place.

Give a Little Bit

If you care about education - or if you simply don't feel like spending money for shoes today - have we got a plan for you!

For Some Strange Reason that Has to Be...

...this song sums up how I'm feeling right now.

Please don't lose hope; I'll be able to write more soon once this blog-cation is over. Hope to see you all soon.

EDITED to add that I want to use this space to wish PapaMei a very, very happy birthday. How could I not forget the man who taught me how to fold my pants, shine my own shoes, make my own restaurant reservations, and pour beer into a glass so it doesn't have too much of the foamy head? In honor of his birthday: Bally shoes at Zappos - one for him, and one for me.