A WORD OF ACTUAL ADVICE TO ALL RECIPIENTS OF FAKE ADVICE: My job has erupted with the crazy and the busy. Like a volcano of work. Boom! Also, I am fighting a cold that I absolutely positively must not come down with. There is no time to be sick. There is also no time for this column, but I’m not letting that stop me. You know why? Because I am a trooper.
Now what was I saying before? Right. This week’s advice will probably be even suckier and faker than usual. Because wah.
(Also, the Wednesday Advice Smackdown has officially reached full Cabbage Patch Kids proportions, with the number of questions far exceeding my wee brain’s ability to answer in one day. So if your question is not answered here, please check back next week because I keep them all forever until they are answered and also your call is very important to me, please stay on the line, etc.)
I want to thank you for your recent advice column where you recommended several haircare products for those of us who are unfortunate enough to have fine, oily, stringy hair. I just got a haircut like two weeks ago and I couldn't justify the expense of getting another one right away, but I bought several of the products you recommended and my hair has been AMAZING. Seriously, all my friends are like, "How is your hair so pretty? What did you do?" So, thank you for that.
Along those lines, do you have any other beauty products that you would like to pimp out? Like, moisturizer, makeup, that kind of thing? Help me look even more pretty, maybe even as pretty as you!
(HINT: Sucking up greatly increases your question’s chances of getting noticed.)
First of all, I am thrilled that I am making a difference to hair follicles across the nation. Second of all, I am pissed that the Bed Head people STILL have not sent me any money.
So no Bed Head pimpage today. (Except for After Party, for those of y’all who get the frizzy fly-away ends. Also because I find the packaging extremely amusing.)
Today I shall pimp Ahava, a line of moisturizers and skincare products from Israel. My parents visited Israel a few years ago (before it was QUITE as crazy to go there) and brought back samples for me. (My parents are only moderately crazy.)
(Also, you read that right. My parents went to Israel and brought me hotel toiletry samples as a present. Because they know me that well.)
ANYWAY. Ahava makes a mud mask from Dead Sea mud, which you know has to be good because it sounds holy and sacred. They also sell Dead Sea bath salts, which are just heaven for dry skin and eczema. (Which I do not have, but I have testimonials that Ahava Dead Sea Bath Salts are a gift from God for eczema.)
And they also make a bazillion other moisturizers for every other part of your body, because you CANNOT put the same moisturizer on your feet as you put on your elbows. You CANNOT.
I also use their facial moisturizer for oily skin (and good God I’m getting tired of typing out the word moisturizer), because my face gets very, very angry very, very easily. Also the mud mask (or masque rather, because this shit ain’t cheap) and hand crème.
Amy: Say my skin is kissably soft.
Amy: I need a testimonial. Please say something nice about my skin.
Jason: It is as milky soft as the milk that flows directly from a cow’s udder.
See? There you go.
So. Ahava. Available at Sephora, Snooty Department Stores and also www.ahava.com.
Am confused. Brain is hurting. Help. How are there TWO "ramdom muses"? http://therandommuse.typepad.com/ and http://randommuse.diaryland.com Which one is good and which one is evil? If one random muse jumps off a bridge do all random muses jump off a bridge? What is your Queenly opinion?
(It is at this point I shall pretty much offend everybody and cross the line of uppity like I’ve never crossed it before.)
My dear Graneezy. Please to be typing into your Interweb browser the address of www.therandommuse.com.
Who’d you get?
If you have to type anything like blogspot/diaryland/typepad/diary-x when getting to your site, you are a tourist. Get your own damn domain. Unless you have wept bitter tears over the domain mapping/custom DNS process, you hold no title to your corner of cyberspace.
In other words: Martha wins.
(ATTENTION INTERNET: The above passage was what is known as a "JOKE." I may tell a few of these "JOKES" from time to time, so please chill out. Think of amalah.com as South Park: if I haven't offended or insulted you already, just wait your damn turn. I'll get to ya sooner or later. Thank you.)
Dear Queen of Everything/ Pretty, Pretty Princess in a pretty pretty BridesMAID dress,
Hi. I have three questions because I am a HOG.
(1) (This is more up Jason's alley, but I figure you'd have the inside scoop.) Do you know where to get lovely Teriyaki Chicken in DC? I've had some at Sushi (?) in Georgetown on Wisconsin, but I am looking to expand my stable of eateries and would like some more Japanese restaurants in there. Very important point: I do not have a car, so the restaurant would need to be metro-accessible.
(2) I am having trouble with boyfriends. Specifically, I still really miss my ex (together for 3 years, broke up 16 months ago) and so instead of moving on in any constructive way, I sometimes focus on my rebound (lovely boy, though lives in England, so sort of an impossible relationship). Is there any way to move on faster?
(3) I moved to DC in July and still haven't made friends. I came here after I graduated college in Ohio and I didn’t know anyone when I moved here and there are no potential friends in the office. How do I make friends? I've been going out to concerts (my favorite activity) alone, but not meeting anyone. I volunteer at the Kerry campaign, and I don’t meet anyone. Other than people in my office (again, no potential friends here), there are probably 3 people in the entire city who know my name. What should I do, oh Miss Popular, to meet other young 20s ladies and gentlemen?
Thank you forever,
You have pretty hair,
Bah! Three questions! Am tired! Wah.
1) First of all, teriyaki chicken is McNuggets of Japanese cuisine. You don’t want teriyaki chicken. If you want teriyaki chicken you make it at home with some chicken cutlets and a damn bottle of teriyaki sauce. If you want excellent, Metro-accessible Japanese food you go to Spices on Connecticut Ave. by the Cleveland Park Metro. You order tangerine peel beef and spicy crunchy tuna roll and other assorted sushi and edamame and the tempura ice cream for dessert that they set on fire at table. You eat and you enjoy and you tell Amy to stop talking like this because it is insulting.
2) See question one. Eat eat eat. Especially the flaming ice cream. Then you move on and maybe meet cute sushi chef who will help you throw the most awesome parties because who doesn’t want a sushi chef in the family? That’s better than a doctor.
3) Well, once you’ve bagged your sushi chef, this should help things. Also joining D.C. Society of Young Professionals.
Is it at all possible, in your opinion, to find the perfect purse that would be suitable for a lifetime? If not, then how long could the perfect purse last? (my husband thinks my new purse every month habit is a bit
Although I have one purse that is very nearly close to perfect. It was the very first Coach bag I ever got—the symbol for how far Jason and I have come since the days where the cat ate first and whatever money was left over went to some tuna fish for us.
It’s close to perfect because it has brown leather trim, but was the dark red and black signature C fabric. See? Brown AND black. AND red. You can carry that with everything. Plus it was Coach and therefore classic and always in style and blah de freaking blah.
I carried it without complaint for over a year straight. Then I started messing with perfection by adding a brown suede hobo. Then a Soho tote with blue and green stripes. Then another suede one (it had FRINGE!) and seventy bazillion wristlets and clutches and crusher hats and scarves and now I am totally Coach’s bitch as I bought the $350 limited edition Most Beautiful Bag Ever That Will Only Go With This Season’s Colors.
(Once? After I organized all my purses on the rack in my closet all pretty? When no one was looking? I totally put my arms around the rack and gave them all a big hug.)
First of all, Hi. Hope you and the husband and the mini-pooch are well, and I hope the crazy pills aren't getting you down.
Secondly, I have a question for your Advice Smackdown. I thought that since you are both Queen of Everything as well as a stylish sort of chick you might be able to shed a little light on the subject of my nappy hair.
I am a natural blond who presently has jet-black hair with an inch or so of natural blond roots. Needless to say, this looks yucky.
I cannot decide whether to strip the black from my hair (a painful undertaking) and go blond, take it one step further and attempt to go platinum blond, give up on the stripping and stay black, or attempt to dye my hair a nice dark brown with red highlights without stripping.
I have a pasty, albino-white complexion, but for some reason most haircolors work for me.
Your thoughts would be most appreciated, as I am not a big girl and cannot make huge decisions such as this for myself.
Your sister in psychiatric medication,
Oh my God, let me tell you a story.
I have always been a blond. Ever since I was wee I was very, very blond. Naturally, my hair started to darken as I got older but I always kept it blond.
Then remember the X-Files? Scully? Who for some reason became this huge sex symbol even though she was kind of down right weird looking?
I suddenly decided I wanted to become a redhead.
And by “suddenly” I mean I made this decision at 2 a.m. in a CVS while buying Cheez-Its and Chips Ahoy cookies. I’ll let you guess as to what made me come to this decision.
So I bought some red hair dye and went home and slept it off. Yet so great was my bender that the red hair dye still seemed like a good idea the next morning. Gah.
I ended up with magenta hair. Fuchsia. A horrible, not-Scully-in-the-slightest shade of red that does not exist in nature.
So yeah. I ended up having the color stripped out of my hair. Then re-dyed. And then cut off. And then stripped some more. The best I was able to get down to was a reddish brown with blond highlights and a really, really short haircut.
I cried. Oh, how I cried.
What does this have to do with your question? Well, nothing really. Except don’t strip your hair if you have to. Do the dark brown thing with red highlights.
Because I think you would look really nice as a redhead. Pass the Cheez-its.