Ideally, I wouldn’t consider myself a vain person, though I know I can be. I don’t know if that is a remnant of my awkward period (which, let’s face it, lasted from the time I was 9 to about 20), or something else, but between my hair and my skin I never seem to be completely satisfied.

As a kid, I had stick-straight hair. And then one day at thirteen, I pretty much just woke up with a whole head full of curls. No one in my family had curly hair—my mom’s hair was only ever vaguely wavy, if anything—and I had no clue how to deal with it. Luckily, my best friend from childhood was going through exactly the same thing, so over the years, we found products and techniques that seemed to work for us.

And then, of course, as soon as we perfected a curly routine, our hair magically lost its curl.

Yet, all throughout my tragic hair experiments, even during the times when I had a triangle for a head of hair, my skin stayed pretty smooth. I considered myself a lucky teenager, as puberty hadn’t seem to affect my skin too much at all. I didn’t start wearing any foundation or cover-up until I started college, and my skin seemed pretty happy that way. But my junior year of college, just as, of course, my hair was beginning to figure itself out, my skin decided to rebel and I had more and worse breakouts than ever.

I went through years of dermatologist appointments and prescription dugs and lotions. The summer before senior year, I spent my holiday in Kuwait, visiting my family, and my skin got so bad that I made an appointment with a dermatologist at a local hospital there. After pretty much calling me fat and insinuating that, as an American expat, I didn’t know how kilos and the metric system worked, she prescribed me several topicals that I was not supposed to use if I would be exposed to high heat or direct sunlight.

It was Kuwait. In the summer. There was no possible way I could avoid heat or sun.

Numerous doctors and solutions later (aforementioned curly-haired friend now works for LUSH Cosmetics and bought me a whole regimen of skin treatments for my birthday), I finally found a dermatologist who listened to my concerns and wants. So here, at 23, after years of dealing with crappy skin and crappier solutions, I have finally found a solution that (mostly) works for me.

Old lady cream and Greek yogurt.

Of course, retinoid creams are not just for wrinkly skin, and are often effective in treating acne, as it has been with me. It has honestly been a miracle product. And to top it off, I discovered, through a huge free sample that might be indicative of my Sephora addition, KORRES Greek Yoghurt Advanced Sleeping Facial. I don’t know what differentiates a “sleeping facial” from regular old night moisturizer. But whatever it is, it works.  Perfectly moisturizing, even when dealing with flaky dry skin caused by the retinoid, and most importantly, it doesn't break me out.

images from personal, sephora.com

Check out these gorgeous, understated gold post earrings from MtCarmelJewelry on etsy.

I found this fascinating article about Haitian zombie tradition, "Into the Zombie Underworld" by Mischa Berlinksi on longform.org.

The perfect fall and winter oxblood nail polish.

We are definitely making this for Christmas.

I cannot wait to get Mark Halperin and John Heilemann's new book Double Down, the follow-up to 2010's Game Change

image from tablespoon.com

Fresh off of a Master’s in English program and what seems like a lifetime of talking, reading, and writing about books, it’s probably not surprising how often I get asked for book recommendations. However, given that I’ve spent so much of my time dealing with books in a formal, academic setting, it may also not be surprising that I’m kind of burnt out on fiction, at least for the time being. And as much fun as they may be to read, admitting to people that I’ve spent the last few months reading exposés of organizations like Scientology and FLDS is slightly less fun.

A few months ago, in an attempt to look halfway as educated as I am on a recent flight, I went to the bookstore (an actual bookstore!) and picked up Zadie Smith’s new-ish novel, NW. Since I grabbed it off of the bookshelf in a house where I was dog-sitting in high school, her debut novel White Teeth had been one of my favorites.  In fact, it is still my go-to recommendation these days.

But I could barely get through 30 pages of NW. All of a sudden, Smith’s writing style felt so contrived to me, so thinly veiled as something erudite. Sentences without subjects, pages of ungrounded, stream-of-consciousness narrative... a style that had seemed so aspirational to me only a few years ago now seemed, at its worst, weak, and at its best, annoying. I still haven’t tried to re-read White Teeth, afraid to ruin my fond memories of that book.

In some ways, I consider myself a recovering English major, someone rediscovering books, finding out that the job market these days is not all too kind to us humanities students, and struggling to balance my love for art and creative stimulation with more concrete things, the need to find a real job, get my life on track, and become an adult. I already have the professional wardrobe—now I’m just ready for a grown-up job.

Hello there

Why a blog? I figure I have time on my hands. That, and when I met recently with a former undergrad professor to discuss my lack of prospects, she recommended that I start blogging, to keep an online presence. And probably also to keep me from going insane.

To be honest, I’ve been wanting to blog for a while. I had visions of a lifestyle blog, a kind of GOOP-lite, where I could talk about glamorous food, fashion, interior design, books, and wine.

But then I realized... what lifestyle? I wake up at noon, mope on the couch, knit, eat a couple of meals, rinse and repeat. Even as a student, my schedule was more or less the same, just with more showers and less sweatpants.

I rarely cook, I have horrible skin, and I rent. I have carpet, for crying out loud.

And yet, here we are.