Friday, November 29, 2013

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The Eyes Have It

It’s My Life By Diana Roemer This story is for women. For I am certain none but another female could comprehend the true tale I’m about to tell. Nobody likes saving money more than me. That’s why when the price of my favorite mascara (which, in case you’re a guy, is that dark stuff we ever-so-carefully layer onto our eyelashes) shot to nearly $30 a tube, I quit. I quit because I knew I could buy a drug store version for a third of Lancôme’s cost. So for a few years now, as my stash of “the good stuff” has dwindled to near nothing, I’ve amassed tube after tube of the bargain brand mascaras, brightly packaged in their blister packs, all promising lush, full, amazing, you-will-be-a-goddess-now-if-you-just-try-me eyelashes. In search of the Holy Grail of mascara, I’ve tested brands like Maybelline, Bonnie Bell, Cover Girl, Avon, Almay, and Revlon -- and, sadly, report there is nothing like the pricey Lancôme Precious Cells mascara. Nothing. Resigned, now, after years of arduous cheap mascara shopping (I’m so tired) I finally decided I must return to the almighty altar of Lancôme. So on a Sunday night, I began again to troll Lancôme’s online shop. I felt good about making the decision. After all. One’s eyelashes must be satisfied. I put a few choices into my “shopping cart,” and without actually clicking “buy now,” (I sleep on major purchases), I hit the hay. And then the next day – a Monday -- came. Mondays are notoriously cursed for me. That Monday, at about 8 a.m., I’d finished scraping an old Lancôme tube of its final contents happily stroking on what was left of “plum glimmer”-colored Precious Cells (which I bought about three years ago when the price was less than a barrel of oil). I think, in fact, they call it Precious Cells because it’s made with something so special the price of a few tubes rivals that of a small Porsche. And after finalizing my ritual of fluffing my eyelashes, cheeks, and lips, I stood back and looked. I was satisfied. This was going to be a good day. A good Monday. I had a ton of work at my office. But I was energized. Because (trumpet sound) I was wearing purple Lancôme “Precious Cells” mascara and I’d decided to buy more, yes more, MORE MORE! I was so pleased with that decision I was almost willing to enjoy the onset of winter when I looked out the window and realized “it’s snowing. It’s Monday. And I’ve gotta get on the road fast.” This called for the Cavalry: Much Caffeine! Forcing myself to remain upbeat despite the worsening dread of the 31.9-mile commute I was facing, I moved to the cupboard and chose a coffee cup from my vast coffee cup collection which just about matches – in sheer numbers -- the volume of my now-cast-off cheaper mascara collection. I chose an 8-inch tall red and white cup that features drifting colorful snowflakes. I was feeling kind of clever. Snowing outside – snowflake cup. I poured the snowflake cup about ¾ full. I took a sip. And then it happened. As I pulled the cup away from my face, it splashed. Like a wave crashing onto a beach, coffee slammed into my left eye. Not just the corner of the eye – directly INTO and ON the eye, a direct hit, the kind of hit that people sue fast food chains or cup manufacturers for. Every other woman who encounters the same issue might get the coffee on her blouse. Or in her hair. Or on the floor. Not me. I get it smack on the eyelid – the lid protected by the eyelashes that had the last of the million dollar mascara on it. My Precious Cells project had become a not-so-precious mess. I stood in my quiet kitchen, snow blowing outside, and for just a moment, my eyes shut, I contemplated the masterful symmetry of how this could happen. And I decided there had to be an angel watching over me that didn’t want me to get in my car just yet. I trudged back to the makeup mirror. Plum-colored mascara was smeared over and under my eyelids, dotting my skin like lavender ornaments on a Christmas tree, dripping from my lashes as if I’d been crying brown tears. I began the careful process of removing the smears. And I thought to myself: It’s a Monday, that’s for sure. But there is, yes, an upside. I know, for a fact, without a doubt, that I am still, and probably always will be, a true blond. And I now get to click “buy now” guilt-free. Life is good. ****

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Eagles concert at WIreless in Moline on oct 21 2013

Sunday, August 25, 2013

So. I'm headed to work. But before I go to the office, I have to clip my fingernails as they are too long to type. After heading to the bathroom and finding the clippers (but not actually clipping my nails, because of course my hair looked bad so I fiddled with it for awhile instead); while doing that, over my shoulder, I spy several pieces of clothing I need to take with me to Bob's tonight. I fold them and then wonder if I've lost enough weight to take along that (insert adjective) blouse from the other bedroom's closet. On my way there, I say -- forget that, let's try on that favorite white wool coat to see if THAT fits. That's in the hall closet. After satisfying myself it fits nicely, I hang it back up. That's when the trouble starts because I see the game "Outburst" which is a whole lot of fun, up on the shelf above. Justin Verhulst has been asking that we get together play some games with his wife and Bob Verhulst, so I begin to try to extricate Outburst from the shelf. It has other games on top of it - Yahtzee and Scrabble. I yank on it anyway. That's when the cup of dice I didn't see plunges into the depths of the closet, which by the way, has no light. Oh dear......That's when the real fun begins. Hours later, here is what I learned. (1) Strange things hide in the closet such as (a) broken golf clubs, (b) bottles of glitter {and glitter glue}, (c) 5,000 baseball caps, (d) Dog fur (I'm convinced dog fur never decomposes. Ever). 2) Easter egg string lights deserve to be hidden but the closet isn't forever enough; and 3) One woman does not need 10 winter scarves, a movie camera tripod from 1998, or Rollerblade knee pads. The closet is now cleaner, but someday the rest of that stuff I don't need is going to have to go. I'm not parting with my childhood ice skates though. Nope. Not ever. I'll strap them on when I'm 80 and get up on that ice. After I clean the closet, that is.

Friday, May 31, 2013

After four long years at Eastern Illinois University, Jon finally graduated. Congratulations my son!

Sunday, May 12, 2013

How we spend our time on the farm. I'm so lucky to have found him. What a great life.

Here's me and my boyfriend, Bob.

Sunday, January 06, 2013

Church of the Brethren Newsline: Newsline: December 27, 2012

Church of the Brethren Newsline: Newsline: December 27, 2012: NEWS Delegation learns about sensitivities in the Holy Land, calls for continued work for two-state solution. National Youth Cabinet is an...