I obviously don’t do SILS anymore. I probably should’ve said something but I hoped, like a breakup with someone you really never want to see again, that if I ignored it long enough everyone would just get the hint. No one seemed to notice, which is good and bad. Good because I didn’t have to feel guilty and bad because it confirmed my worst fear, which is that no one really cared what I had to say about tampons or granola.
I quit because I thought I was fucking Sue Johanson with this shit and held myself to a weekly review of something that I recently used/liked/put in my vagina. Problem was, I quickly ran out of stuff and so when I sensed myself reaching (I almost did a post about a particular brand of bread), I realized that it was inauthentic and thus, defeated the purpose. But, I still put things in my vagina and feel the need to tell people about it so here I am.
I live minutes away from a Whole Foods, so I’m there a lot to bask in the thick, atmospheric pretension that occurs when you buy organic milk in a glass bottle for $8 and champion the benefits of locally grown produce. Oh, plus I really love those little Annie’s Homegrown cheddar bunnies. One thing that always caught my eye was this large bottle of liquid plastered with lots of quotes dealing with free speech, unity and a balanced diet…as it relates to God. The bottle alone is worth the price ($8-15 for 32 oz.) because it’s full of material that you could only expect to hear from a homeless dude warning everyone about World War III, but I assure you what’s inside is even better. Dr. Bronner’s castile soap claims 18 uses, and while some of them are only practical if you live in a commune, the few that I’ve found are exceedingly valuable for everyday use. Initially, I used Dr. Bronner’s (Tea Tree and Peppermint varieties) as a body wash and loved it. The lather produced from just a few drops is incredible and as an added bonus, that clean soap smell lingers with me throughout the day. From there, I used it to wash my hair, floors, counters, bras, and underwear. I haven’t used it as a laundry detergent yet, but Dr. Bronner’s claims that as a use as well. Additionally, Dr. Bronner’s is absolutely indispensable if you camp or travel a lot because it means that instead of packing shampoo, detergent, soap, toothpaste and mouthwash (when diluted, it can be used orally), you only have to make room for one bottle.
Dr. Bronner was kind of like a charitable, Jewish version of Charles Manson who believed in world peace instead of…race wars. Actually, the only thing they really have in common is the propensity to exhibit insanity that can be seen from space, which is something I happen to be intensely jealous of. Bronner is remarkable for many reasons (he promoted a method of birth control involving lemon juice and Vaseline), but paramount among them all is his line of castile soaps, which after his death in 1997, has remained owned and operated by his family.
So go answer the call of your inner Joan Baez and buy some now.
I saw this shirt at my local Whole Foods and despite the fact that I’m unemployed and despite the fact that it’s made of organic cotton and therefore $128*, I had to have it. Narwhals are fucking cool because they’re like whales that have been bred with knights and I’m pretty sure they are also Wiccan.
*I’m exaggerating, but seriously organic cotton seems to command a price that implies that, in addition to being a shirt, it can also make me the perfect three egg omelet while blowing me.
I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m moving. Since this is less like the kind of move where you are offered a job and compelled to leave your familiar yet comfortable surroundings because 150k plus benefits is just too good to pass up, and more like the kind where you are completely nauseated by the fact that there are at least 15 cash advance establishments nearby and need to get out as soon as possible even though there’s no guarantee of employment or housing, I feel the need to save money wherever I can. So far, I’ve gone back on birth control to cut out the cost of condoms, and now, I’ve finally dropped $20 on a Diva Cup so that sinking $5-7 a month in tampons can be a thing of the past. The money I save not buying condoms and tampons equals out to about $300 a year ($240 for condoms*, $60 for tampons), which means one less month I have to pimp out my boyfriend to service the fine gentlemen of the Pacific NW.
I’ve contemplated the Diva Cup for years now, lurking on the many forums dedicated to it, trying to figure out if it was something that could work for me. I’ve noticed a lot of apprehension about it–concerns about whether it would actually fit, stay in, or even work properly without causing leaks. It’s easy to get behind the fear associated with something that can only be found in between the patchouli oil and cacao nibs at Whole Foods, but I assure you it’s unwarranted.
There are a lot of wonderful things about the Diva Cup, but the name and package design aren’t among them. For a product that is ahead of its time in health and environmental consciousness, it is way behind in debunking the myth that women will buy anything pink and will pay double for anything with flowers on it. That aside, since the Diva Cup can be used for up to 10 years (although they recommend that it is replaced once every year), there is an undeniable economic advantage over tampons and pads . Other more comforting aspects include the fact that you’re no longer promoting the growth of landfills or putting yourself at risk for Toxic Shock Syndrome. As far as comfort and insertion are concerned, I can’t say that I notice much of a difference. I did have to learn a new method of insertion by folding the Diva Cup into a ‘U’ shape, but after a few tries, it became second nature and is now just as comfortable as a tampon. As an added bonus, I can use the Diva Cup after sex as a semen catcher which automatically makes it worth double the original cost.
I admit that part of me mourns the loss of the overly pink and perfumed feminine care aisle, because while I wouldn’t say I was proud to buy tampons every month, it was a tradition that involuntarily became part of my identity as a woman. As superficial as it is to buy a box of tampons displaying an unnaturally happy woman doing a toe touch and call it being a woman, it was something I was able to relate to, and in retrospect, something that I am ultimately glad to be rid of.
Maybe you don’t know this, but I’m kind of a mountain man in the making. You know, one of those guys who hasn’t shaved since Jimmy Carter sent him a secret briefing in the form of an L.L. Bean Catalog that exposed Gillette for putting radio transmitters in their razors because they’re in cahoots with the government and it’s all so they can read your thoughts and find out if you really think FDR was a hero or just some cripple who got lucky? Yeah, that kind. I don’t make my own bacon…yet, but I do strive to only eat food that I’ve either made myself, or has fewer than 5 listed ingredients listed on the package. Yes, this is coming from the Queen of Biscuit Sandwiches, but I got sick of staring back at a fun house version of myself so that’s in the past.
The first thing I had to tackle in getting my health back on track was my intake of sugar. I had an unhealthy relationship with cookies, cakes, chocolate, and candy, which is why I found it hard to stay in shape because I always craved some sort of dessert after every meal. I tried to find substitutions, things like apple slices, raisins, bananas, and even raw honey, but none of it ever fully satiated me long enough to keep me from my bag of chocolate chips. Eventually, I introduced fresh squeezed juice into my diet and found it to be instantly effective in eliminating sugar cravings and on top of that, I felt I had an immense amount of energy. The only problem was that non-pasteurized fresh squeezed juice was expensive. At around $6 for 20 ounces, I wasn’t able to have it very often and so I would inevitably revert back to deep-throating cannolis.
It’s only natural then, that I’ve joined the crystal clutching new age group of juicing. People who own juicers strike me as the kind that, if given the chance, would attempt to treat an aneurysm with a chilled cocktail of tomato, red bell pepper, beet, and carrot juice, and I know this because I am one. I recently received the Breville Juice Fountain Plus as a gift and after spending $30 on an orchard of fruit, I havent stopped using it. So far, I’ve juiced oranges, apples, mangoes, pears, strawberries, carrots, and lemons and it handles it all exceptionally well, without having to peel or cut anything (aside from the oranges). It’s easy to clean, easy to assemble and I love it.
This is also good for someone like me, who is 4 and refuses to eat anything green. I absolutely hate vegetables, so being able to juice beets, spinach and celery (or what I refer to as Cerberus) and hide it in palatable things like apple, carrot, and tomato is absolutely priceless to me, because I can no longer get away with eating tater tots and checking off my vegetable servings for the week.
Neutrogena Rapid Clear 2-in-1 Fight & Fade Gel:
I don’t have much of a skin regimen. I probably should so I don’t end up with a turkey neck or something, but I’m usually too tired to care about dealing with cotton balls, toners, lotions and elixirs containing rare essential oils from the skin of a mongoose. So, that’s probably why I had a planet on my forehead the other day. Usually, I wouldn’t care too much, because I rarely see the light of day as it is, but my boyfriend’s parents were coming into town and I panicked, not wanting them to think their son’s girlfriend has leprosy. To give you an idea of how bad it was, when I walked out of the bathroom after wishing I was never born, my boyfriend shrieked, “WHAT HAPPENED?” and after confirming that it wasn’t a bullet wound, said, “You really are a unicorn.” Once I castrated him for making me feel uglier than John Goodman’s ass hair, I applied some Neutrogena Rapid Clear and went to bed. The next day, my planet was still there, but at least it had shrunk to down to a manageable sized Mercury from its original Jupiter-like proportions. It did dry my skin out, so I wouldn’t recommend using it for your entire face, just when you sprout a boil like I did.
Kiss My Face Peaches & Creme Moisturizer:
I’ve only recently started using lotion, because I’ve found that I feel fucking sexy when I scrub my body down with my homemade salt scrub and generously apply lotion afterward. I want to keep this feeling alive, so I’ve gotten into the habit of doing this on a daily basis. I began using Kiss My Face Peaches & Creme lotion on my face because the 4% alpha-hydroxy content aids in exfoliation, which is good for me because my skin is too sensitive for scrubs and exfoliating cleansers. I started using it on my body and found in didn’t sting like some other lotions I’ve tried, plus I love the scent. Also, it’s paraben free, which awakens the incense burning hippy in me.
