Wednesday Advice Smackdown

(Work, y'all. WORK. I may never take a vacation again. I may never take a lunch break again. I may never write an advice column during the workday, the way God intended, again. Am banging this tripe out while watching Lost, so you know, shut up Shannon.)

Dear Amalah -

My company is tanking and I'm about to lose my job. My boss said so. Actually, everyone BUT my boss is about to lose their job. I just bought a house and am having a baby. What the FUCK should I do? Do you think anyone is going to hire a pregnant lady only to give her maternity leave in six months? I think not.

I want to say FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK a whole lot but my son reads my site and I don't want him to know that Momma says such things when she's not driving. Can I use your advice column to say FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK?

So, in conclusion, I would like your "cheap list" of cosmetics for those of us having to make the transition from middle class to HOLY FUCK WE CANT PAY OUR MORTGAGE. Everything from moisturizer to mascara. Thanks.

Yours truly,
Soon to be Fired and Therefore FUCKED

My advice column is always open to anyone who needs a forum for screaming the F-word. In fact, let's all get it out of our systems together.

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! And also, FUCK!

(I do so love that word. And this site just hasn't seen enough of it lately, what with all the baby talk and belly photos and goddamn crapping NICENESS that's been going down lately.)

Anyway. You need to start sending out resumes now, and you need to start interviewing now, and you need to start practicing interviews with your stomach all sucked in and shit. They can't discriminate against you even if they suspect you're pregnant, and you can just smile and ignore their suspicions. And if someone asks about it, then BOOM, lawsuit, and all the money you need to buy all the expensive make-up and Juicy Couture baby clothes your heart desires.

However, in case the lawsuit gets mired in red tape or something and you need to downsize temporarily, here's my scattershot list of inexpensive-yet-somewhat-acceptable cosmetics. (I mentioned Lost is currently on, right? Right.)

As I mentioned last week, I'm a fan of the Clean & Clear Under Eye Brightening Stick. I also like C&C's blemish cover-up sticks and oil absorbing sheets.

For oily skin, try Aveeno's Clear Complexion Bar or Burt's Bees Garden Tomato Soap, followed with Burt's Bees blemish stick. For dry skin, there's nothing better than Cetaphil for both cleansing and moisturizing.

For makeup, head to Target and play around in the Sonia Kashuk section. Like, my God, how could you not want this? Or this?

Physician's Formula makes fun stuff too, and Neutrogena makes several lovely pressed powder compacts. And in fact, when presented with the choice of tossing my cheap-ass Neutrogena compact or my rich-ass Shiseido compact into my purse, I tend to choose the Neutrogena, as the mirror fell out of the Shiseido compact about two days after I bought it.

L'Oreal makes the best mascaras. Except for the volumizing ones. I am not friends with the volumizing ones.

Stay away from any cheap lipstick that claims to last "all day," as they have the consistency of house paint. And unfortunately, all cheap lip glosses are as sticky as rubber cement and your husband will hate it. Save the change from your couch cushions and splurge on a Clinique lipstick and a Chanel gloss.

Because FUCK, haven't you given up enough already?

Dear, Amalah-Hair-Guru....

You probably won't have much advice for me. Because, well, I have Freak Hair. No, really, I do. I am the Proud (or Un-proud owner, depending on what time of the month it is and whether or not I want to rip my hair out, follicle by follicle because I hate it and then some stranger on the street tells me: "ohmygod you're hair is soooooo beautiful" and then I stand in front of the mirror and admire my hair for hours....anyway.) What was I saying?

Ahh, yes. I have a head of very thick (yes, it IS VERY thick), coarse, curly hair....Which I have just recently (like, within the past two years) have grown out to renaissance lengths (i.e. down to my ass). Everyone "ooohss" and "aahhhs" over The Hair, but I've got Problems.

Problem Number One: About four months ago, I decided to go to an unknown salon and get an itty-bitty trim and also - a FULL-BLOWN hair color-thingy-ma-jig. My hair, at that point, was all blond - you know - to go with my summer tan. So, Stupid Hair Salon Idiot People decided to STRIP my prone-to-dryness, coarse hair and put in a god-awful what-the-hell, light-brown-red-blond (ugly as sin) color in. I mean, really. What the hell? My complexion (at this point) was very pale. And. Bee-jeezus. Totally washed me out. So, now, I've been going to my regular salon. And they've been giving me temporary dye treatments (at $90 a pop) on a monthly basis. But, about 5 days after the monthly ($90) treatment? It starts to wash out. And I've got The Red. The Brassy Red. That washes me all out. So. I've got an appoinment scheduled (next Thursday!!!) at another salon with a more experienced woman. What should I ask for?

Also - Problem Number Two: Should I *shudder* cut The Hair? Even though everytime it's given a substantial cut it shrinks about 4 inches for every inch that it's cut and I end up (usually) looking like Ronald McDonald? What do you think? Problem Number Three: How should I wear The Hair? It's starting to look ridiculous in a clip, but if I wear it all down and out, I look, well, very....weird. And very "Cousin It" like. Know what I mean? What SHOULD I DO???? HELP!!!! By the way, I'm a grad student. I'm 27. I want to look younger (which I usually do), but not matronly, know what I mean?

Sincerely,
My Hair Is Hip and Then It Isn't and Then It Is and Then, You Know....

(Note From the Management: My Hair Is Hip sent me several photos of her hair to accompany her question, and I would like to formally request that everyone seeking hair advice do the same. While I'm sure y'all can weave a vivid tapestry with your words and find many interesting adjectives to describe your hair, I just can't really help you based on an email that contains a dozen synonyms for "rat's nest." Send a picture, please. I won't post it, I promise.)

(Unless, you know, your name is Mariah Carey.)

Anyway, back to your question, My Hair Is Hip. You do not have freak hair. At all. Your hair is pretty, like Sayid's hair is pretty. You just have way, way, WAY too much of it. You've let it grown to freak-like Crystal-Gayle proportions. Super-extra-long hair is indeed striking, but really, so is that guy who got a jigsaw puzzle tattooed on his entire body.

So first, I recommend you cut at least four or five inches off. This should still be long enough to keep your (gorgeous, you bitch) corkscrew curls from 'fro-ing up and getting out of control, but get rid of the extra length that takes you from, "Wow, her hair is really long" to "Wow, she could take someone's eye out with a casual over-the-shoulder hair flip."

(A cut will also make your life easier when you attempt the flat-iron, which OH MY GOD, PLEASE BE USING A CERAMIC AND VERY EXPENSIVE ONE, OTHERWISE YOU MIGHT AS WELL JUST IRON YOUR HAIR WITH THE "LINEN" SETTING OF YOUR CLOTHES IRON AND WHY DON'T YOU JUST BREAK MY HEART ALREADY.)

Ahem. What?

Okay, color. First, those temporary treatments? Pffft. Useless and a great big suck of money you could be spending on shoes. You need a good corrective color specialist. Call up a salon and ask if they have someone who specializes in corrective color. Say it with me: Corrective. Color.

So this one time? I was drunk? And stumbling around CVS at one in the morning? Because we were out of club soda and potato chips?

I chose this moment to say, "HEY, I WANT TO BE A REDHEAD" and bought a box of hair dye. And then went home and used it before sobering up.

Blond highlighted hair + cheap red dye = fuschia hair. Make a note of this equation. There may be a quiz.

Anyway, it was horrific. My hair was a terrible, angry shade of reddish purple. Blah blah blah, enter corrective colorist, toner was applied, highlights were done and redone, and ta da, I was left with a blondish reddish brown color that was not nearly as pretty as the blond I'd had before, but still. It was NOT PURPLE.

So if a corrective colorist can undo a cheap-ass drunken purple dye job, I'm sure someone can permanently cover up that coppery red and restore the blond.

And on that note, the blond makes you look younger. Get it back, is so pretty! With the curls! I hate you!

Dear Amalah,

I am a new reader and I am smitten with you and your pregnant belly. This is a question for the Wednesday advice smackdown. I know it's Friday but I have to ask now before I forget my question so here it goes...

After 4 years in the stylish "real world", I am going back to school, back to the world of sweats to class and *gasp* backpacks. In '01 I adored my cute yellow and black North Face backpack with all of it's mesh compartments for holding water bottles and clips to make me look outdoorsy. But I just can't see an old lady like me (by college campus standards) walking to class with a rugged looking sack adorned with patches. I need a stylish looking vessel in which to tarry my books and other learning materials. However, it also needs to be comfortable as I don't want to aggrevate my scoliosis. Any suggestions oh wise Amalah?

Sincerely,
Old and Busted

I remain a fan of the utilitarian backpack. Nothing looks sillier than some girl trying to shove schoolbooks into some twee little bag like Alicia Silverstone in Clueless.

I carried an ancient black L.L. Bean backpack all through college, including the courses I took last year. Besides being absolutely indestructible, it was simple, non-twee, and it made a convenient seat for when the benches at the quad were all taken and I had to spread out on the grass. They now make it in a convertible messenger-bag-slash-backpack version too. Oy, the kids today.

Or, you know, fuck functionality. Go Burberry. How gorgeous is that?

Dearest Queen of all things beach,

I'm trying to plan my honeymoon, which will take me to a pretty place with lots and lots of sun. While the fiance figures out the passport details and plane tickets, I need to figure out the really important parts of our trip. Like what I should pack (and when I say "pack" I clearly mean "shop for"). Since you just returned from a sun-filled vacation, perhaps you can help? Exactly how many fabulously cute bathing suits would you say I should bring, if I was going somewhere for, say...10 days? Also, what is the appropriate ratio of cute sundresses to cute shoes? And how many purses is too damn many? And last but not least, what is the proper defense against those who might accuse me of bringing "too much" (especially if one is travelling with said accuser)? Thanks, as always!

Soon to be freckled,
Nola

WHAT TO PACK:

If you are going somewhere for 10 days, you bring at least 11 fabulously cute bathing suits.

HOW TO DEFEND:

Bathing suits NEVER dry properly in a hotel room. That stupid little clothesline in the tub doesn't work, and hanging suits off the balcony is white trash, and when you act white trash in a different country you are making America look bad, which is totally un-American and totally not supporting our troops.

Also, re-wearing a damp swimsuit can lead to a yeast infection. And does your accuser want you to come down with a yeast infection on your honeymoon? I bet he doesn't, and I'll bet he'll shut up at the mere mention of a yeast infection.

WHAT TO PACK:

One pair of sneakers, one pair of beach-appropriate flip-flops, one pair of comfortable casual sandals (like Borns), and five pairs of just plain cute shoes that coordinate with various other outfits.

HOW TO DEFEND:

Sand and saltwater make your feet more vulnerable to blisters, so you have to rotate shoes as much as possible, lest you get horrible blisters and cuts on your feet from the one pair of shoes you brought and then you'll have to buy new shoes while on your trip and does your accuser want to go shoe shopping on your honeymoon? I bet he doesn't, and I'll bet he'll shut up at the mere mention of shoe shopping.

WHAT TO TAKE:

One small summery tote, one weekend-sized beach bag, one dressy evening bag, and a variety of small wristlets to go with all the cute sundresses.

HOW TO DEFEND:

What, he expects you to be going out in a strange country without carrying proper ID at all times? What if you get separated and the country gets invaded and the last helicopter is leaving the American embassy RIGHT NOW but you can't get on without at least two forms of identification and a lip balm bribe for the pilot? Does he really want that?

I bet he'll just do the smart thing and shut up about how much you're taking.

GOOD GOD. It's 11 p.m. now. This took HOURS to write. I never realized just how much time I waste at work on Wednesdays until now. Huh. They should fire me. And then I could do this full-time! And charge for it! Brilliant! So hurry, send your questions to advice@amalah.com now. While it's still free. Bwa ha ha.

Thurwednesday Advice Smackdown

(There will not be a Smackdown next week, due to the fact that the Smackdowner will. Be. In. ARUBA. I hope y'all will be okay without me, and will not go bolting towards the nearest Hair Cuttery and Maybelline display as soon as I leave.)

Dear Amalah,

I do not, for the life of me, understand Gwen Stefani's new song. What's  a Hollaback Girl? What track? What's not gonna just happen like that? Bananas? The hell?

Amalah

I have no idea. And to think, I was still pleased with myself for knowing what that milkshake song was talking about. So, so old.

Dear Amalah,

First off, I hope your energy improves. Though I should mention during my first pregnancy I think I was awake two of the nine months. I kept a journal and went back to read it a year or two ago and holy cow. I slept a LOT. Sending second-trimester energy boost vibes your way.

Secondly, I have hair issues. My hair is, for the most part, in the same exact style I've worn since at least high school, if not since infancy. I am attaching a photo which you must not share upon penalty of my extreme humiliation so you can see the extent of my problem. My chief complaint is the bangs. I've had bangs since the age of five and if you don't count that period in the late eighties/early nineties where it was fashionable (in what universe??) to have "half" bangs with the top hairsprayed into reaching dizzying heights. And I don't. I need to know what to do here. I have an enormous forehead, which if you can believe it, is actually paler and whiter than the rest of my body and could unintentionally blind people on the street. Should I nix the bangs once and for all? I know you've spoken about bangs growing out before, but I'm still not entirely clear on the best way to do this and retain a small amount of style. I like to keep my hair on the longish side, so I can put it back in a ponytail (which is how I most frequently wear my hair), but would like to remove some of the weight of it and add some interest. It's awfully thick and has a little bit of natural curl.

Thank you SO much. Your advice is always spot on. I'm just hoping you can help a helpless case like me.

CallistaWolf

Sigh. I would like to know exactly who these hairdressers are that keep cutting bangs like that. ("That" being the "thick, blunt, curled-under mall bangs.") Bangs have evolved, people! These are not your big sister's best-friend-who-took-a-night-class-at-hair-school's bangs!

Okay, advice for Callista (who, by the way, has the most gorgeous red hair ever that I sort of hate her for and I will personally hurt if she ever colors it). I think you should keep your bangs. No, really! Just not, like, THOSE bangs. I think you need to throw your curling iron out the window. And then run over it with your car.

I agree that bangs fit your facial shape, but right now those bangs are waaay too thick to be flattering. And too long. And too curled-under. (Have I mentioned the curling-under part already? Can I mention it again?)

You need to let a few parts grow out -- about a quarter-inch from each side (your bangs are wider than your face, which is Bad), and about a quarter-inch from the top (your bangs are not a fringe, they are a brick wall).

Tell your hairdresser (a new one, preferably, because some sins cannot be forgiven) that you want to "thin your bangs out." They'll know what to do and can transform that wall of hair into something more wispy and side-sweeping and textural. Remember: blunt, straight-down-to-the-eyebrows bangs rarely look good on people who are not Debbie Harry. And they look ESPECIALLY BAD on people with thick, wavy hair. (I did straight, blunt bangs for awhile last year and did not love them, not one bit, and my hair is about as thick as peach fuzz and as wavy as uncooked spaghetti. So trust me, it's a tough look to pull off.)

And of course, yes, you'll need to change the rest of your hair to accomodate the growing-out process. Some subtle layers that don't actually look like layers will work. Again, a GOOD HAIRDRESSER can fix everything just by hearing that you want to "get rid of some weight" in the longer parts of your hair.

I cannot stress the need for a good hairdresser, people. Walk-in salons are not your friends. Junior stylists who give half-priced haircuts on Sundays are not your friends. And mall salons cut mall hair. Yes, there are exceptions, but I've seen Callista's photo, people, and I cannot let her take that chance in good conscience.

Dear Amalah,

I am about to finish my master's degree. My husband got a new job and is moving. Therefore, I am moving and intend to go back into teaching. Overall, I look much younger than my (nearly) 28 years. However, I have dark undereye circles that are of the devil. (I'll try to get a good picture to show you just what we're working with here) These circles are so large and so dark they literally scream spousal abuse. I used to use an undereye circle lightening product from Mary Kay (I know...but it worked so well!) until they discontinued it. I have some left, but it's getting old and not as effective as it once was. Today I noticed that my concealer and foundation were actually creasing in the under eye area making me look like an abused 16 year old with wrinkles. It is bad. This is not the image one wants to project when applying for a new teaching position. They don't like to hire teachers in the inner city who are victims of abuse.

I have no problem spending money on this (the previous product was $30 for a very small tube). I've been told I should consider Benefit's Lemon-Aid for the eyelids (which are slightly dark) and Lyin' Eyes to cover the circles. Except my circles look much worse than the before picture on the website, leading me to believe that these are products designed for those women who just needed a few less drinks or a few more hours of sleep last night. So, dearest, I need help. I need a product to help lighten them and I need a concealer that will cover it up. And for the tough part? I don't like to wear thick makeup. I like looking fresh and dewey...natural, without actually being "natural."

Miss W

(Prepare yourselves, this maybe the most un-Amalah-sounding answer in the history of the Smackdown.)

First of all, dude, I used that Mary Kay eye stuff too. It was straight from heaven and I still have a tiny, tiny bit left for emergencies. I keep it in the fridge, next to the butter and these packets of yeast I bought four years ago when I totally planned to bake fresh bread for some reason.

Anyway. Keeping your eye masks and creams and such in the refrigerator extends their life and gives them an added cooling benefit. And it gives you an excuse to get a snack everytime you apply them.

I was at Sephora this weekend, where I bought not one blessed thing, but oddly enough, the two products you mentioned came highly recommended by the salesgirl when presented with the hypothetical eyebag problem. So I'd say you should give them a try.

BUT. I have two value-added solutions for you, neither of which involve makeup. The first one is Clean & Clear Under Eye Brightening Stick, which, I KNOW, cheap-ass drugstore crap. But I love this stick. It's no miracle-in-a-tube, or anything, but it's decent. And it's $6.49. And it just might give you the added brightness to make the Benefit and Lyin' Eyes products work better for you. And it's $6.49.

The second solution is old school, more than a little gross, and hotly disputed. And that's Preparation H. While many people claim that the ol' Preparation-H-for-the-under-eyes trick is just an urban legend created to embarass beauty queens and models, just as many people swear that no, it really does work.

Basically, I think it comes down to this: just how fucking desperate are you?

I'll admit it. I've been just that desperate. After long nights of boozing, salty bar food and no sleep, I've put the ass cream on my face.

Specifically, I've put the Preparation H Cooling Gel on my face. It's not as greasy as the original formula and barely smells at all. Put it on, let it dry, dab on your concealer and call me crazy, I think it works just fine.

And yes, I keep the tube in my fridge, hidden in the vegetable crisper.

Dear Amalah,

I am also a terribly white girl. I will be moving to SPAIN, SPAIN, YAY SPAIN!!! this summer and need a recommendation for sunscreen. Anything over SPF 30 usually gives me a stingy, red, bumpy rash (I know, yum) and I hate sunscreen that feels all gloopy and thick and strangles the skin (in other words, feels like sunscreen). Any ideas? I'm up for paying good money for this, as I will need to wear it everyday.

Thanks a frillion! I would trust only you, the lovely queen, with this humble request.

AmyKatrina

CLARINS.

CLARINSCLARINSCLARINSCLARINS.

I heart Clarins.

(Any questions?)

Hi Queen Amalah!

I am a fan of yours, cos I think you're very pretty and funny. A winning combination, and then add to that your selection of bags and shoes... well. Amazing.

Right well I am a reader in London, so you and your world seems very far away from me and mine, but I love reading your blog because it makes me laugh and I like you. A lot of the reason I'm writing to you is because I have started to feel a bit strange that I have read your whole website (I don't do much work) and therefore feel a bit like I know you, but I have never actually introduced myself. So, er, hi, yeah, great website. My name's Léonie. Feeling a bit coy now.

Also you and Dooce and Martha and Miss Doxie, all of whom I read lots as well have inspired me to start my own blog! So I've written some entries (http://leoniekate.diaryland.com) but now I am scared Amalah! That it isn't funny, that I can't work computers well enough to make it pretty and soft and warm like yours. Also I don't have a digital camera and I want pictures to show. I am worrying, Amalah. Concerned. Please give me advice. Or maybe a camera.

Thank you oh Queen of All that is Nice.

Love,

Léonie 

Dude, you live in LONDON. And you talk like you live in London. That automatically makes your blog Cool and Quirky and people who read it are going to be all, "Cheerio! She's so cute! And clearly so superior to us Americans, who go to the Hair Cuttery and eat breakfast burritos from 7-Eleven while she's shopping at Harrod's and having a spot of tea."

And you totally don't have to actually shop at Harrod's or have spots of tea, but we'll assume you do, because all we know about England is what we learned from that Pride & Prejudice miniseries and from the Confessions of a Shopaholic books.

IN OTHER WORDS, I'll stop rambling, because I haven't eaten lunch yet and my blood sugar is dropping and I'm making no sense. Your blog is JUST FINE. Your blog is you, right? Don't write to entertain an Internet-rock-star-sized audience, or even a small-modest-blogger-sized audience. Write to entertain YOURSELF. Tell stories, rant, bitch, and endlessly amuse yourself. Don't be fake, and don't be afraid to look or sound stupid sometimes.

If you want readers, get out there on other blogs and start commenting and start linking and pretty soon you'll get linked somewhere and people will come and it'll be just like Field Of Dreams: The Internet Version, Without All The Daddy Issues.

And yes, a digital camera is a great tool for any blogger. You can post pictures instead of saying anything intelligent! Buy a cheap one or get someone to buy you one for your birthday. That's the English spirit!*

*I have no idea what the English spirit is, or if it even exists. I am also not usually this into stereotypes either.**

**Oh, but I am.

That's all I have time for today, chickies. Apologies if your question didn't get answered this go-round. I could be still pondering its complexities or waiting for the person on whom I ultimately dumped it to write me back with their answer. I cheat like that sometimes. Got another question? Or would just like the benefit of some free linkage? Write to advice@amalah.com and tune in week after next.

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

Today's Wednesday Advice Smackdown will be even more particularly half-assed than previous installments. Why? Because I'm tired. Fatigued. Exhausted. Vaguely comatose. Etc. It is probably all the Babalah's fault, as I am getting approximately 19 hours of sleep a day, yet still. So. Damn. Tired.

This is how tired I am: diohv ccoljuoi caljlllllllldijulj

HAAAAAAAAAA. That's the funniest thing I've typed EVER.

This is also how tired I am on a regular basis: On Easter Sunday, neither Jason nor my parents woke me up to go to CHURCH. On EASTER. And then they let me sleep through PANCAKES. Out of PITY for my tired, tired self.

Anyway. Here are some questions, some answers and some typos that I will probably not fix.

Dearest Amalah who I would recognize if i saw on the street and hug and then run before she called the police on the tiny girl she doesn't know,

Very soon, I am graduating from college. I have always used (gasp) drugstore foundation. By always I mean the same kind since sixth grade. I actually spend more on things like eyeshadow, but for some strange reason, have never ventured past Maybelline for foundation (I ventured past it for mascara and came straight back). Aaaaanyways, I am going to be a grownup very soon. Kind of. And I would like to upgrade my foundation. As I already took your foundation brush advice (with excellent results) and as you always look so pretty with such lovely dewy skin, I thought you could advise me on a nicer foundation to switch to. I like them pretty liquidy and seemingly sheer yet powerful enough to really cover.

I apologize for my overuse of parentheses (but I kind of talk in parentheses actually) and hope to have an answer whenever your lovely self is bored of the doppler and has a notion to do an advice smackdown.

Merci,
JackieO

I still stand by the foundation pictured in my infamous and frighteningly-often-Googled foundation brush entry, and that's the Sue Devitt 70% Triple Seaweed Gel Foundation. 70% water, this stuff is light and gelly (it's a word now, shut up) and goes on easy and smooth. Also won't clog your pores or destroy the rain forest or steal your boyfriend.

Yes, it's $38 a bottle. I could try to justify that for you, but I'm tired. (Which brings us to the half-assedness of this Smackdown.) Dewy don't come cheap, chickies, and if it did, I'd likely just find some way to be a snob about it.

Oh great goddess of all things hairtastic!

I am in desperate need of hair advice. I just had my regular below chin length bob cut today and found out the hard way that you should never be the last customer of the day on a busy spring Saturday. I foolishly told the stylist to angle my hair in the back in a wedge, and then cut the front to chin length and add a few little angled-in pieces in the front. And since it was Saturday and the stylist had just finished cutting the hair of a six-year-old whose mom was a royal pain who wanted the impossible-the stylist was tired and just said, okay, instead of, wait, no way this will work with your fine, thin, curly hair, you’re going to look like you cut your hair with a lawnmower. Which is exactly how it looks now. So now, I come to you, great goddess, Amalah, asking for advice on how to fix this mess other than cutting it even shorter (not an option, as my husband said, just go get a Subaru Outback and some flannel shirts and call yourself a …..you can guess the rest, he’s not very politically correct!) So anyway, hair goddess, what hair products do you recommend to help me achieve some sort of hairstyle that people won’t laugh at?

Peanut Butter Patty

First, let me take issue with the idea that a bad haircut can only be corrected by further drastic cutting. Not true. A decent stylist (and by "decent" I mean "expensive" and "homosexual") can RESHAPE a butchered cut without sacrificing a lot of length.

(Trust me, for at one low point in my life, I was laid off from my stupid dot.com job like the rest of the entire world. I burned through my severance package and was soon a miserly ball of misering, reusing tea bags and canceling HBO and, at the lowest low point, going to the HAIR CUTTERY for trims. Sometimes, even a half-inch trim is too much for certain scissorly-challenged people to handle. That's all I'll say, but indeed, I know your pain.)

But as for products, there are four billion and one options. From your email, I'm trying to guess as to what will make your hair look better. Straighter? Thicker? Piece-y-er? (Also now a word. Continue to shut up.) So I'll just go half-assed (again) and recommend my favorite products for the most common hair complaints.

(All of these, I believe, have been recommended here before. Am officially one giant re-run.)

Bed Head Control Freak. A gentle straightener and de-frizzifyer that's perfect for thin hair. Work a dime-sized amount through wet hair and then blow-dry straight.

Bed Head Small Talk. A volumizing, thickifying goo that will pretty much solve world hunger one of these days. Use a small amount on dry hair to fluff, lift and separate. Like a bra! For your hair! Sexy!

Bed Head Hard to Get. A finishing paste for piecing out your hair, which I imagine could come in particularly handy in lawnmower-inspired haircuts.

Bed Head After Party. The infamous dildo-shaped tube of smoothing cream. Any fly-away crazy hair? Stubborn assy cowlicks? A little of this stuff with make your hair your well-behaved, shiny bitch.

can't remember whose site linked to it, but found you through my daily readings. yours is just the second (including mine) that makes any reference to infertility, and deals with it in a manner that could help other people understand it, instead of the doom and gloom stuff on the newsgroups and other websites. we were lucky that clomid worked for us the first month, but wow, when I think about the wasted year of trying, well, I try to not get bitter. more because a simple fertility test from the doctor, who told us to "relax" (you know the drill), would have put us in a position to make smarter decisions earlier instead of exercises in futility.

it sounds like you are in about week 16, and my wife in 19, so two infertility babies coming within weeks. i look forward to reading your blog more as the weeks go on as i am sure i will be able to relate. oh, and in reference to the Girlfriend's Guide you made, and What to Expect...what did your husband read? you sound like a well read couple, and my wife and i had a very difficult time finding any books that made sense for me to read. while i appreciate the 15 pages in What to Expect on the father feelings, the mass of the books out there for men are either 1) all science and volume, 2) sensititve pony tail type books, or 3) Man Show type books. we really couldn't find a book that was like the Girlfriend's Guide, but for men. Just curious.

-B

(I'm actually right at 14 weeks now, but everybody assumes I'm further along than that, thanks to the BELLY THAT WILL SOON EAT MANHATTAN. Along with everything else, because DAMN, I'm hungry.)

Also? Jason? Read books? Pregnancy books?

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

He did accompany me to Border's when I purchased the Girlfriend's Guide and some technical Mayo Clinic guide after my first prenatal appointment confirmed that I was, indeed pregnant. (Because five or six home tests? Clearly lying to me out of spite.)

I picked up a copy of The Expectant Father and asked Jason if he wanted it. And he looked at me like I was giving birth to a litter of puppies right there in the Parenting section.

"Everything I need to know I can read on the Internet," he said.

"But this will tell you how to be all, loving and supportive and shit," I countered.

"I AM loving and supportive and shit."

"Fine." I shoved the book back on the shelf. "But I reserve the right to tell you if, at any point in time, I do not feel you are being loving and supportive and shit."

And that was our agreement, which meant during the first thirteen tortuous, nausea-filled weeks, I routinely called Jason an asshole.

(Usually for various food-related offenses.)

So I have no book recommendations for you, B. Which brings us to the half-assed portion of this question.

Readers? With literate, supportive, non-asshole husbands who read pregnancy books? Any suggestions?

(Oh, and I'm totally kidding about Jason being an asshole, as he had two dozen roses delivered to my office today for no reason at all except to make my coworkers jealous. That's just awesome.)

Have a question for next week's Smackdown? That requires a half-assed answer? Send it to advice@amalah.com. Or maybe, if we're lucky, I'll get that second trimester energy boost everyone keeps yakking about, which SHUT UP, you're making me tired.

The Wednesday Advice Bacon Cheddar Smackdown

Full Disclosure: Do not underestimate the power of the Jingle That Ate Hootie. I am currently eating a Tendercrisp Bacon Cheddar Raa-aanch, which is indeed as large as Brooke Burke's head, and is also infuriatingly delicious. Oh my God.

Okay, enough about my nightmarish eating habits. Let's talk about your problems.

(Okay, we'll talk about your problems as soon as Gmail stops dicking around with me.)

(We're all WAITING, Gmail. Please stop with the "oops...unable to process your request" errors.)

(In fact, could you not ever say "oops" when giving me an error message? It's really not that clever and always makes me start singing that Britney Spears song.)

(Oh FUCK. Now see what you've done? Quick, somebody start humming "Tiny Dancer.")

dear amalah,

i recently found your website and recently found out i was pregnant - your site came first, so maybe there's causation or perhaps just correlation. but here's my question - since getting pregnant (which was a trial in itself), i feel like i haven't been able to relax and enjoy at all. every twinge, every nebulous colored drop of "fluid" causes me to freak out and completely lose my cookies with fear (not to mention the general impulse to lose my cookies from the nauseous which i am grateful has not yet graduated to full grown yakking, but there's time as i'm only @ 6 weeks). beyond that the sudden reality of pregnancy is SCARY as ALL HECK. what to do?

rock on,
another amy from cyberspace

Last night Jason mentioned that I should really try to talk about non-pregnancy-related things, as amalah.com is in danger of becoming nothing but a pregnancy blog. Not that pregnancy blogs are a bad thing, but...you know, it might help if I got out occasionally. Read a non-pregnancy book or spent time thinking about issues beyond my digestive tract or whether the cashier at CVS recognizes me as the girl who keeps buying all the Cadbury Creme Eggs.

Wait...the hell was I going with this? Oh, right. I told him that hey, I still do my Advice Smackdown, so I still talk about other things. Like hair! I am totally still well-rounded as all get-out.

So now the last non-pregnant frontier has been invaded. My apologies. I will just sit here and incubate, as is my solitary purpose in life, apparently.

Anyway, Amy, your question. Back when we were trying to get pregnant (which was TOTALLY going to happen three months after I stopped the pill) and then TRYING to get pregnant (which was TOTALLY going to happen on our first round of Clomid), I imagined pregnancy to be this lovely, serene time of glowing skin and Jason bringing me ice cream and shopping for twee clothes.

I was going to relish every damn moment of it and walk around with my hands protectively cupping my belly while my baby instinctively moved towards my touch. I'd talk to the baby all the time and my hair would look amazing.

I was clearly on drugs.

Not just because I was unprepared for the physical horribleness of pregnancy, about which I've blathered on at length here in recent weeks, I was completely unprepared for the gripping, all-consuming FEAR that you wrote about in your email.

I've spent the last three months waiting for someone to come rip the rug out from under me.

More accurately, I've been waiting for someone to rip the rug out, causing me to fall down an ornate staircase while dressed in a red velvet dressing gown and then spend weeks moaning "Rhett! I want Rhett!" clear as day and yet the stupid servents are all, "Who? What? You want some toast?" while I lose my baby and my husband descends into bitter alcoholism.

I don't know where the fear comes from. I'm sure every newly-pregnant woman experiences fear to some degree: There's some frightening statistics on the Internet and in those books and in the story that woman at the supermarket told you, because she's an ASSHOLE.

There may also be people you know and love who've suffered loss after loss and you're keenly aware that life and reproduction just ain't fair. There may be the thought that, Jesus GOD, it took you over two years to get here, and if it doesn't work out, will you have to wait another two years? How old will you be? How much worse will it hurt when that coworker has her baby right around your due date?

My fears were compounded in January by the nagging feeling that "hey, I've been here before."

A few years ago, I discovered that the free birth control samples that I'd been using for several months were about six months past their expiration date. Whoops. I still got a period (albeit a very light one) that month, and figured that I'd dodged a bullet. (Although I daydreamed about what a nice accident that would have been.)

A few weeks later I was home alone and was struck with crippling cramps. I stumbled doubled-over to the bathroom and proceeded to bleed like I've never bled before. I won't go into detail here, but damn, there was a suspicious and fleshy-looking clot that haunted me for days. The bleeding stopped, and I never called the doctor.

Last year, after our final round of Clomid, I was so sure we'd succeeded. I had all the pregnancy symptoms and my period was late. Pregnancy sticks ran from very vague positives to emphatic negatives. My period started a week late. The end. Fuck this, let's nosedive into depression instead of an IUI.

Looking back, I wasn't imagining things. I felt EXACTLY like I did in the early weeks of this pregnancy. So while people tried to comfort my hysteria with the fact that my "problems" were related to getting pregnant, not staying pregnant, a little voice in the back of my head would go, "well, MAYBE."

So what do you do about it? First, admit that you just aren't ready to think long-term about the pregnancy. You just aren't ready to start painting the nursery or buying booties. People are going to repeatedly ask about names or where you're registered and you can just tell them you aren't at that point yet. And that's okay. (Me? I priced up diapers in the grocery store once. I think that'll do for a few more months.)

Start looking at the pregnancy in terms of milestones. The next beta. The heartbeat ultrasound. The doppler. The second trimester. The 18-week ultrasound. Look ahead only as far as the next milestone or your next OB appointment.

Before you know it, a slew of these milestones will be behind you, and you'll still be pregnant. (Hopefully, I mean, GAH, it happens.)

(See how well my advice works? I'm still a wreck.)

(Also? I am still totally carrying tampons around in my purse. Again, wreck.)

But most importantly, just try to get excited in your own way. The wisest and most non-assvicey thing anyone has said to me in the past three months was this: Keeping yourself from "getting excited" will not make the hurt any less if something happens, I promise you.

And on that note, get yourself a pregnancy buddy who is as totally awesome, bitchy and insanely paranoid as Zoot. That'll help TONS.

(Well, wasn't THAT an upbeat opening number? Christ. Can we talk about your hair now?)

Hi Amalah!

I need your superior knowledge on beauty products. My problem: I am white. Reference Mrsatroxi’s Wednesday Advice Smackdown question and comparisons to Nicole Kidman and Renee Zellweger. Recently my husband has taken to calling me Casper the Ghost. (Don't get me wrong - Casper was cute, but this is not meant as a compliment.) He sighs wistfully about the days before the Oil of Olay commercials scared me into wearing SPF 30 beauty products. When I was a bronzed, tanned, and a skin cancer candidate. (Remember those commercials? The opening shot was a clean, white, unlined piece of paper with a voice over saying "this is your skin." The second shot featured a crumpled piece of paper -- showing what happens when you don't use high a high SPF. Needless to say, I am now slightly neurotic about wearing sunscreen and am, consequently, very white.)

So how do I get the bronzed goddess look without killing my skin? I look wistfully at the self-tanners I see in the store, but I fear turning orange. Do I live with my whiteness? Or is there a product that I can use to get a natural looking tan?

Melissa

Oh my God, I swear to you, I had the following conversation TWICE today.

Scene #1, Doctor's Office, 9:30 a.m.

Doctor: Well, you certainly LOOK like you're feeling better!

Amy: Meh. Hate. Die.

Doctor: You've been looking SO PALE lately. But today you have some color! That's good!

Amy: It's bronzing powder. I'm still death on toast underneath.

Doctor: Oh! Well...it looks lovely on you.

Scene #2, Amalah's Office, let's say around 11-ish a.m.

Fellow Blogger Semi-Coworker Ubik: How are you feeling?

Amy: (shrugs shoulders in universal "Meh, Hate, Die" gesture) I won't puke on your shoes, or anything, but ehhhh.

Fellow Blogger Semi-Coworker Ubik: Well, you certainly don't look sick.

Amy: Behold, the power of bronzing powder. You're the second person to be fooled today.

Fellow Blogger Semi-Coworker Ubik: (polite noises, masterfully hiding the fact that he could not give less of a shit about the powah of my makeup)

Amy: Perhaps I shall reveal my secret on a Wednesday Advice Smackdown!

Fellow Blogger Semi-Coworker Ubik: (suddenly remembers something really important that he needed to do like, yesterday)

ANYWAY. Guess what my advice to you is, Melissa. Go on, GUESS.

That's right, BRONZING POWDER.

I too, am very white. I am so white I give off a radioactive glow in most photos. While I can tan, it's usually only possible after I've thoroughly charred myself, turned lobster red, peeled, molted, and grown new skin. Then I have about a 24-hour window in which I can tan naturally.

I will SOMETIMES use self-tanners (I'm partial to Clarins), but never, ever on my face. It's just too difficult to make it look natural around your hairline and neck. Which brings us to the bronzing powders.

I use this one.  It's cheap, it's available at Target and CVS (so I can buy it along with my Creme Eggs), and it's fairly idiot-proof (read: non-shimmery, which can go so wrong, so fast). (Trust me on that last one.)

First, moisturize yo' damn face. Dry skin looks paler than moisturized skin. Second, dab on your concealer (if you use any). Third, brush a translucent powder all over your face to eliminate shine and even out your skin tone. 

(POINTLESS TANGENT: Usually, I opt to put concealer on last...after my blush and everything. But I usually use foundation. When using a bronzer, I go for an all-powder look, and concealer on top of powder tends to not blend as well, in my useless opinion. Carry on with your lives.)

Finally, using a powder brush (about one size bigger than a blush brush, and less densely-bristled), apply the bronzer. LIGHTLY. GINGERLY. Start with just your cheekbones, but come closer to your nose than you would with blush. Think about where you would naturally tan and try to mimic that.

After I do my cheeks, I tap the end of my nose with the brush to be all sun-kissed and adorable. If you have a prominent forehead, feel free to apply a little powder there too, but be careful to blend really well (a flat surface tends to give you those ugly MY MAKEUP ENDS HERE lines more than the contour of your cheekbones and chin).

And ta-da! Now you too can be told that you no longer look like you are about to puke your guts out! By members of the medical community, even! Miraculous.

Dear Amalah:

Although I am still fairly youthful in appearance (hell, I'm 36), over the last few years I have noticed the size of the pores on my face is increasing rather rapidly. In fact, at the rate I'm going, my pores will soon expand and devour my entire head, body, pets and house. The solar system may be in danger. I am quite disturbed about this. I have spent a quantity of money equivalent to a car payment on fancy-ass creams, to no avail.

At one point should I accept the "new me" and move on? Should I simply try to find a good use for said mammoth pores, like 'pen holder' or 'nacho dip dispenser', or continue to fight the good fight?

Sincerely,
Stacy

Bah. Giant-ass pores. I'm sorry.

The problem with skin care is that skin is like snowflakes. Every epidermis is unique. The cleanser that works for me makes Jason break out like a pizza and the last masque someone recommended to me freaking burned my skin off.

But since wussing out and telling you to talk to a dermatologist means I don't get to talk about fun products, I'm going to talk about what I use anyway. And if any of it turns your pores into potholes, well, you should have talked to your dermatologist instead of listening to the Internet.

I have fairly oily skin, but more than "oily" I'd describe it as "tempermental." And "bitchy." It likes to reject products after a month of use and do this thing where one part of my cheek is breaking out while less than a centimeter away the skin is cracking and peeling like the Sahara Desert.

So the only success I've had lately has been from going with completely natural products. Things with fruits and vegetables in their name. And since most of the time large pores are a symptom of skin irritation, your skin might be trying to tell you that it's simply more sensitive than it used to be. So let's try to put together something super-gentle for you instead of blasting it with salicylic acid and rubbing alcohol and bleach or whatever.

Three brands in particular have my undying love (for now, stupid bitch skin): Burt's Bees, Ahava and MyChelle.

I use the Burt's Bees Garden Tomato soap and toner when my skin is being difficult in a zitty, angry pore kind of way. Then I follow up with Ahava's moisturizer for oily skin and eye contour cream.

If my skin is being difficult in a dry, flaky kind of way, I swap the Burt's toner for Ahava's gentler toner and add MyChelle's Pumpkin Renew Cream to the lineup.

Once a week, every week, I use Mychelle's Incredible Pumpkin Peel and spot-treat with the Clear Skin Serum.

But since, as I've already said, your skin is likely to be completely different than mine, it's probably not going to help anything if you rush out and buy everything on this list. The Burt's stuff is relatively cheap, the Ahava stuff is not, but it's the MyChelle product line that offers the best solution.

Trial. Sizes. Of everything they offer.

My mother-in-law sent me the most glorious box of tiny samples of pretty much the entire product line. Each trial size gives you about three to five uses (which, in my experience, is more than enough time to start seeing the results of this fabulous stuff). I played around, found what worked the best, and ordered my favorites.

(Also: Boys! Who are not reading this far anymore! They have men's products too. So...um...I'm still totally keeping you involved and in mind and shit.)

So anyone out there who doesn't like their current skin care products, is bored of their current skin care products, or who simply likes to hoarde and steal mini-shampoos from hotels should TOTALLY go order themselves a bag full of mini-cleansers and creams.

(Just don't do what I did and try to taste the Pumpkin Peel. Yes, it smells like pumpkin pie. No, it does not taste like pumpkin pie, you big stupid moron.)

Got a question? About anything? The meaning of life, perhaps? Send it to advice@amalah.com and check back next week where I will tell you the meaning of life and more importantly, where it can be purchased. (Although when in doubt, just check Sephora. It's probably available there.)

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

All right, enough with the song and dance. It's Advice Smackdown time, and let's not waste valuable bossing-around time and just get right down to it.

Amalah,

My fiancé and I are planning a trip to Aruba this May so that we can finally make it legal. What were your impressions (or drunk, hazy memories) of the island? Any suggestions on where to stay or what to do? I saw your pictures, and I understand that the “what to do” involves a whole lot of drinking, and I’m fine with that, but what to do WITH the drinking? We’re hoping for a lot of laying around on the beach, but I realize that I will fry to a crispy finish within 5 minutes of setting foot on the island, so we need some options here. Thanks!

The Soon-To-Be-Mrs.

Wellllll, what excellent timing on this question. (Which I did not make up, as all questions DO come from actual live people. I'm not sure why but apparently everybody thinks I make Advice Smackdown questions up. I really don't, unless the signature is "Amalah," which yes, that's just me talking to myself, pay no mind.)

Guess what! We're going BACK to Aruba. In a MONTH. We just booked it and dude, ARUBA.

Never mind that we need to buy baby furniture and baby gadgets and furniture for all the stuff currently cluttering up the baby's room and new flooring for the upstairs because the pets have destroyed the carpet with their wicked excrement and filth and a new mattress because of my aching pregnant back and oh my God, we're going to have to pay for daycare too. Is that expensive or something?

(breathes)

Yep, we're going to Aruba instead of getting all that stuff. The baby can sleep in a dresser drawer or something. We have priorities.

I also have lots of opinions about Aruba, most of them having to do with how fantastic it is. We'll see if those opinions hold, however, after a visit where I cannot drink or do about half of the activities I did last time.

THINGS I DID LAST TIME IN ARUBA THAT I CAN'T DO THIS TIME, WHICH IS SAD:

1) Horseback riding.
2) Party bussing.
3) Swim-up barring.
4) Drinking + Watersports = Awesomeness.
5) Parasailing and other assorted dangerous things.

And drinking. It was really all about the drinking.

We stayed at the Marriott resort last time (this time we'll be a couple doors down at the Radisson), where you should be sure to mention it's your honeymoon on every possible occasion so you get free things, like bottles of champagne delivered to your room. I recommend sticking to the big resorts for your first visit, as EVERY POSSIBLE THING you'd want to do can be arranged from 1) your room, 2) the concierge desk or 3) from just wandering out to the beach and mentioning to someone that hey, you'd like to rent a jetski today, and boom, there will be a jetski waiting for you within 15 minutes and don't worry about it, we'll charge it to your room.

Everything can be charged to your room, from banana daquiris to sunset dinner cruises. 

Definitely try to do a horseback riding tour (don't fall off), one of those half-day sail-and-snorkel cruises with the open bar, the party bus thing (don't forget your stupid camera, like we did), a dinner at El Gaucho's and a dinner right on the beach at sunset (most big hotels offer this).

Anything NOT to do? Well, renting a car ended up being kind of a waste, as driving to the famous Baby Beach was kind of boring and there was no bar and four frillion children. If you do rent a Jeep or something, remember that gas prices are in the Aruban currency (everything else is dollars) so you don't get totally ripped off like...some friends...of ours...did...they said.

The casinos sort of suck, too.

And for the love of crispy fried bacon, get up early to secure a palupa hut or umbrella or whatever your resort offers for shade on the beach. And don't even bother with whatever strength of sunscreen you use in the States. We went down there with SPF 30 and were chicken-fried by day two. Don't let your fiancé say he doesn't burn or just wants a "nice base tan" or will "be fine" with SPF 15. He will die.

The sun down there is vicious, and we pasty Americans are no match for it. Buy the highest damn SPF you can find. Jason and I were unable to stop the scorching carnage until we bought a bottle of SPF fucking 70 and four gallons of aloe vera gel.

Also, pack as many bottles of sunblock as you think you'll need, and then go out and buy about five more.

And have fun! I'll report back in late April with how we liked the Radisson and also what Aruba looks like when you're sober.

Hello, Amalah!

First off, congratulations on the long-awaited pregnancy! Yay you! And Jason! Yays all around!!

I guess I'll just get to the advice question thingy.

This is my question. (That has taken me weeks and weeks to get up the nerve to ask, and is probably stupid anyway, but here goes.) I am a very pale girlie. Very pale. To demonstrate: Remember the Snarkywoods where Nicole Kidman's and Renee Zellweger's milky vampire whiteness was mentioned? Had I been standing next to either of them in those shots, they would have looked like bronzed swimsuit models from the 80's. Really. A dermatologist once called my skin "truly translucent". Anyway, while reading your past posts, I was shocked to discover that nude pantyhose have at some point become gauche, perhaps while I was at the grocery store. I have always donned nude pantyhose when I wear a dress or a skirt, just to, you know, cut down on the glare. A little. But now I can't. Amalah deems them icky, and I bow before her superior knowledge. So...what do I do now? Do I only wear pants, forever? Do I really just go au-naturale and blind the populace? I can't do self-tanners. I have tried. Many times. They don't work. They turn me orange. (A problem I also have with most make-up.) And I don't get brown in the sun or tanning beds. I burn, I turn red, I peel, and that's the end of that. Please help?

Thank you very very much for even reading this far, because I know you have things you would much rather be doing than possibly answering questions about my legs. But maybe it will take your mind off of puking for a minute. Maybe.

Yours Truly,
mrsatroxi

Wait. Did I deem nude pantyhose icky? Are they out? I had no idea.

Did I sound drunk when I said that? Because I totally can't remember. I'm certainly no great fan of nude pantyhose, but I wear them. To work anyway, as I am a Professional Woman and my office has an "Appropriate Hosiery" clause in our company dress code.

(And I totally buy the cheap ones from the grocery store. Yes. I destroy hose like nobody's damn bizness, so until my paycheck starts including an "appropriate hosiery stipend", I refuse to spend more than a few bucks on something that will mostly likely be ruined by my pinky toe within five minutes.)

But while I see nude hose as a necessary evil of Corporate America, I can't get behind the wearing of them in a non-office setting. (I've been known to shed my stockings on my way to lunch, wad them up in my purse, and then put them back on in the lobby restroom.)

So your options are to 1) Embrace your whiteness and just try to avoid the black-hair-red-lipstick-Goth-look that Renee Squintweger is currently sporting, or 2) Buy some fun hosiery instead, like nude fishnets.

On second thought, those options really aren't an either/or scenario. Do both. And take it a step farther and try to avoid anything having to do with that Zellweger chick. She scares me now. With the bones and the visible tendons and cartilage. Natural weight MY BIG FAT ASS.

Dear Queen Of Everything And Boss Of Me,

I just came across your blog and have to tell you, I haven't laughed this hard in YEARS! Your Anna Nicole snark almost made me soil myself in front of several co-workers.

I have a hair dilemma, and feel that only you can help. I have had the same hairstyle since 1989, and there is photographic evidence to prove it. Remember when Lady Diana was introduced to the world as Prince Charles's financeè? and she had that adorable layered haircut?! I, like everyone else in my freshman dorm, ran out & got my growing-out-shag cut into the Princess Di. Here it is, sixteen years later, Princess Di dead & buried, and I STILL WEAR HER HAIR. Oh I've tried to change it a few times .. permed it once (never again). Tried it with no bangs. Nope. Tried growing it long & down my back (nope nope). It actually looks good on me, and my hair's the right texture for the layers, and my hairdresser gives me a flattering cut & highlight. I just haven't changed my look since 1980!! Should I stick with it or try to get on one of those "extreme makeover" shows?? Be honest, Amy. *sigh*

Your new friend and convert,
Jennifer in Podunk, Kentucky, USA

(After receiving Jennifer's question, I asked for said photographic evidence of said hair so I could best assist her hair-related needs. Do see how much I care? And how hard I work?)

(After receiving Jennifer's pictures, I realized that I may be in a bit over my head. So I consulted with several other experts from the blogging universe, each chosen for their impeccable taste, style and pretty hair. And also because I was desperate to pawn this sucker off on somebody else.)

Jennifer, you probably aren't going to be surprised that the unanimous consensus is that yes, you need a new hairstyle. Immediately. STAT. ASAP. Etc.

You are a very pretty woman with delicate features, but you have Mall Hair. 80's Mall Hair with big bangs and too many layers. This must go away.

Now before I get to the comments from our very own Fab Five, please imagine this as the beginning of a makeover reality show when all the stylists say harsh things that might be hard to hear but really, they are only being harsh because they CARE and you know by the end of the show you're totally going to be hugging them and making toasts about how they unlocked your inner self and yada yada yada.

Here's what the Team America Hair Police had to say...

Martha: Her hair is a pretty color, it's just so BIG.  And she's got a pretty face. The bangs and tons of layers that she's got rule out a lot of options unless she wants to embark upon some serious growing-out, though.  Her face is a nice shape -- I think she could really pull off a short-ish haircut.

Dawnie: The bangs need to go.  If she insists on still having them, they should be thinned out, and a bit longer. Like, longer and sweepier? And put the curling iron down, for one thing.  Experiment with the blow-out, everyone's doing it!

Real Girl: Ok, so first of all? That round brush she's using with her hair dryer every morning? The one that curls the bangs and lifts the shortest layers at the top? (And then pulls the hair away from her ears?) Yeah, that brush needs a vacation. In Siberia. The easiest way to de-80's-ify your hair is to let it actually touch your face. Or at least let it reside in the same zip code.

Your Devoted Reader will need a hairstylist who either specializes in or is known for great layers. Because right now her layer-proportions are not super. The ones at the top are too short (and pulled too high), and she's got too much weight at the bottom, and so the overall effect accentuates the length of the face--and usually people with bangs want to de-emphasize the length of the face. About the bangs? You've given great advice about sweeping them to the side. Which will look great when we get a side part in there. As for length, given her face shape, the best idea is to keep the hair no longer than chin-length, using layers rather than that overused round brush to create volume. Did I mention the side part?

As for color, she'd definitely benefit from some softening highlights that would give depth to her brunette--a lighter shade of brown eased in there as naturally as possible.

Granola: The answer to this is not one that perhaps she wants to hear. For it requires a cut. A pretty big cut. A cut which will leave our subject with little residue of the over-layered fiasco going on here. And plenty of smoothing serum (but that comes later). The cut will rid her of the number one mullet-defining characteristic; long in the back. For once she's done, her hair will be a party all over!  I'd also suggest lots of pretty chestnutty highlights to display the short hair as chunky and give it more body and movement.

Miss Doxie: Where does she live?  Is she close enough to the Atlanta area that I can send a team of gay men to kidnap her and make it all better?

Real Girl, Again: She lives in Kentucky? Uh-oh. I overlooked the obvious advice. Get in the car and drive, woman. Drive to the nearest slightly cosmopolitan location near you. If you look left and right and see even one mullet, you have not driven far enough.

So. The consensus is that an over-layered, out-of-date hairstyle can certainly be fixed, but that it will require some patience, a new stylist, a somewhat drastic cut (at first) and a lot less hairspray.  But you can do it! We're all here for you, sipping martinis in our big ass loft while watching you on a plasma TV and cheering you on.

Be sure to send us an updated photo to guarantee your spot on the reunion show, tentatively titled, "After the Smackdown: Bruised But Beautiful."

Okay, that's enough for one day. If your question wasn't answered this week, don't worry, it's in the queue and will be answered in the order I feel like answering it in. Or maybe it's because you didn't actually ask me your question. If that's the case, just email it to advice@amalah.com and tune in next week for my always-perfect advice. Unless you're that damn spammer who keeps posting the tranny porn links. Then my advice is to GO TO HELL, ASSHOLE.

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

(Thursday Edition, Again, Like You Are Surprised)

Okay, before we begin, let me issue a word of caution regarding the state of your advice guru:

1. It is snowing outside, yet there was no delay at my office, mostly because I assumed there would be a delay and stayed in bed for an extra half hour.

2. I am wearing maternity pants to work for the first time today, and while they are deliciously comfortable around the belly, they are falling off my ass. Seriously, if I sit down wrong I will moon anyone behind me, or at least show off my new maternity underwear with the twee pink hearts.

3. I just realized I am wearing my new red shoes with a green sweater. Yick.

4. I wore my new red shoes in the snow? Have I gone mad?

5. I did not comb my hair today before mashing it into a hair clip.

Basically, I've got a really great look going on today and feel super extra qualified to tell you how to look all beautiful and stuff. Let's begin!

Dearest Amalah: Queen, Mother, Goddess -

I have found your make-up advice to be so good in the past, that I've been known to rush right out and purchase a foundation brush without even bothering to finish reading your entire post. And I didn't even KNOW I had a problem. This time, I recognize my ignorance and have thusly turned to the woman who can guide me to fabulousness.

I've worn contacts since the seventh grade. I've always HAD glasses, but I never WORE glasses (except at the very end of the day when I removed my contacts), because I always hated glasses.

Recently, though glasses seem to have become much more stylish than those ridiculously huge frames I was originally offered in *cough* 1978. Glasses are practically an accessory! They can compliment and complete many outfits! So, while I still have my contacts, I recently invested in a smart pair of Armani glasses that look similar to this. They're a dark, subtle tortoiseshell. I don't wear them every day, but a couple of times a week, when I'm looking to up my intelligence image.

Now here's my dilemma: I'm extremely near-sighted. Way extremely. Can't see to find my glasses if I don't have them out before I remove my contacts near sighted. And while technology has, thankfully, significantly reduced the thickness of today's lenses, there's still the problem that my glasses make my eyes look very, very small behind them. Teensy tiny small. Are you hungover or are your eyes always that squinty small.

How can I use the fine art of make up to bring out my eyes behind my glasses? Are there eye shadow colors I should wear or avoid? Flat or shimmery? Skip the eyeliner altogether? Wear false lashes?

Anxiously awaiting your magical advice,
Overdressed

(By the way, when I first read the salutation on this email, I was all, "Mother?" And then I was all, "Oh right! Aww!" Then I was all, "Shit.")

As someone who possesses relatively-normal-sized eyes that have the tendency to go bizarrely squinty in photographs, I feel your pain. (I am also wearing my own Armani tortoiseshell glasses today to complete my "I just rolled out of bed and may possibly still be asleep right now" look.)

Anyway, not to go all The Graduate on you but I have one word for the squinty-small-eye problem: neutrals. Think about it. You start loading up with the bright, shimmery or smoky colors and you are NOT drawing attention to your eyes. You're drawing attention to your damn eyelids.

You want to make your lids vanish into the rest of your face and you want your actual eyeballs to stand out.

Here's what you do.

1. Apply a creamy base to your lids, from the lash line up to your brow bone. I recommend Tony & Tina's Therapeutic Eyebase in whatever shade best matches your skin tone. (Match it the way you'd match foundation, it ain't for show.)

2. Next, brush on a neutral shadow -- again from the lash line to the brow bone. This shadow should be about the same as your skin tone with NO SHIMMER. Shimmery shadows settle in those little creases and will make you look wrinkly and tired. If you think your lids and under eyes tend to look dark, pick a color slightly lighter than your skin tone (like a bone or peach) and also dab a little under the inner corner of your eye.

3. Then brush a slightly darker color on the outer corner of your eyelid in a sideways V (mid-crease to corner, mid-lash line to corner). This will make your eyes look wider. Blend it well. If you want a little shimmer, this is where you can use it, or you can stick with a matte brown or grey. (I use Nars Duo Eye Shadow in All About Eve, which contains two shades of peachy brown that are almost identical, except that one is a shimmery.)

4. And here's where people get all uppity and divided. Some makeup artists swear that lining the eyes can only make them look smaller, while others swear that eyeliner totally makes your eyes bigger. I believe there have been bitchslaps and bloodshed over this issue.

I'm in favor of eyeliner. My lashes are practically blond, and even with mascara I tend to not have a very strong lash line. So I use a soft brown pencil around the outer edges of my lashes, staying away from the inner corner and extending the line past the outer corner. Then (and this is the MOST IMPORTANT PART) I use an tiny angled eye shadow brush to blend and soften the line. So if you look at my eyes you won't see EYELINER LINE BEGINS HERE AND I PAINTED IT ON WITH A FELT-TIP PEN, PLEASE DIRECT ME TO THE SLOT MACHINES.

5. Finally, curl your lashes and then apply mascara. Go for a lengthening one with a thin brush, not volumizing, for the least amount of clumping. Y'all are going to totally laugh at me, but I use a Loreal drugstore mascara that costs $7.15. I've used the super nice expensive ones, and honestly, I just don't think they're that much better. At first, sure, but ALL mascara tends to turn all funky in about three months and needs to be chucked. With my $7 mascara, I could care less if I'm throwing out more than half a tube of congealed product. With a $25 mascara, I'm PISSED that there's clearly a dozen or so dried-out applications left.

Aaaaannnnnnd...you're done, and dude, you totally look just like Audrey Hepburn now with the big doe eyes. Bitch.

Dearest Amalah~

I have been rejoicing and basking in the glow of your wondrously gassy pregnant-ness. I want to be just like you and become pregnant as well, but for some reason cannot find time to have sex when I'm ovulating. I know that you are a very very VERY busy woman, with a very busy husband-- so I was just wondering if you have some creative pointers to share on finding time for enough sex to get knocked up. Oh and also? I have two dogs that try to watch when we finally have time to DO IT. It's very distracting. How can I get rid of them without hurting their feelings?

Busy and Barren,
Bellabelly

ps. I don't like to throw up. In fact, I hate it. Do you think that will be a problem?

Well, first you must come to terms with the simple, unavoidable truth: sex for procreation will be the worst sex you have ever had. Remember that time? With that guy who had that one car? Yeah, worse than that.

No guy wants to hear the words "Let's have sex tonight" followed by, or modified with, the words "I'm ovulating." And no woman's body will ever cooperate if being bossed around by the calendar. So basically: drink wine. At least a bottle or four.

But! The good news is that apparently? You can get knocked up after having sex only ONCE in the entire vague am-I-or-am-I-not-ovulating-four-to-five-day fertile period. Trust me, I've seen the ultrasound and am just as shocked as y'all are.

Our seduction went something like this:

Amy throws Gardenburgers on George Foreman grill in a sexy manner.

Jason enters kitchen.

Jason: Hey, aren't we supposed to be trying to get you pregnant this week, or something?

Amy: Bah. Bahbahbah hate bullshit whatever.

Couple eats dinner, watches Lost, has sex. Conception ensues. Much confusion by all who thought that, hey, it wasn't supposed to be easy like that.

Aaaannnnnd scene. Romantic, no? But hell, it was enough. So ditch the whole "I want our child to be conceived during the greatest love-making session of our relationship" thing and just do it. (Hey, Nike! I've got an AWESOME commercial idea all of a sudden.)

And lock the dogs away. Hurt their feelings. They need to get used to being ignored on behalf of the baby, who is totally going to steal their thunder. Bitch.

Bonjour le hot Amalah et tête de gomme à effacer,

Amalah, I am going to Paris. I leave on Friday. And, if you answer this during your next Super-Fun-And-Fabulous Wednesday Advice Smackdown, I will READ the smackdown while I am IN PARIS IN PARIS IN PARIS. So seriously, what should I buy? Bear in mind that I don't have much money. At least, not mounds of it.

Your devotee, Shizalala

Pfft. Next week I will not be in Paris. And probably not the week after that either! Wah. Woe.

Anyway, here's the sad thing: in high school I went on a tour of Europe with my Spanish class. We went to France, Italy and Spain. I saved up tons of money to go and to spend while I was there. You know what I bought while I was there?

Crap. And croissants.

I totally bought tons of stupid tourist shit. T-shirts. Mugs (that totally broke on the way home). A keychain or something.

In Italy, I was determined to buy something clothing-related, hopefully a pair of shoes. Did I buy a lovely pair of leather heels like my friend did? A pair that she probably still has to this day?

No. I bought a pair of high-heeled jellies.

I BOUGHT PLASTIC SHOES. In Italy.

So my advice would be to not buy plastic shoes. Or anything equally stupid.

Even if you don't spend a lot of money, buy something that you'll honestly KEEP for years and years. Something that you can say to anyone who admires it, "Oh yes, I got this in Paris," and it will make SENSE that you got it in Paris.

Unlike jelly sandals from Italy that could also be found at your local Caldor.

The only things I brought back from Europe that I still actually have and use are a tiny leather hair clip that I bought on our tour of a leather maker's shop that has a Michelangelo painting printed on it and a small gold picture frame that I got in Spain.

(I originally bought it for my boyfriend at the time, but he had the decency to give it back when we broke up. Or maybe I stole it from his house. I can't remember.)

So buy a watercolor from a street vendor or a pair of earrings or a lovely scarf. Don't buy miniature Eiffel Towers or berets made of felt. Save napkins from cafes where you buy croissants and take lots of pictures. You don't have to spend mounds of money to bring back wonderful souvenirs.

(Although if you did want to spend mounds of money, something from Louis Vuitton would TOTALLY be okay too.)

(It would also totally make a great gift.)

My question involves dating. I realize I'm asking this of a woman who is married, and to the Perfect Guy at that, but what the hey...

I am looking to re-enter the dating scene after an absence of...oh...12 years or so. Needless to say, I have NO idea what I'm doing when it comes to dating. I've been asking around a bit, checking out the obvious "Dating Do's and Don'ts" references, reading the tips on Match.com and other dating sites, and have basically come to the conclusion that there are too many rules.

I don't like games. I don't want to play games. I'd rather confidently walk up to a girl and ask her to dinner than to try and learn all the various "techniques" and "strategies" for "dating success." It seems counterproductive anyway. Eventually they're going to get to know the "real you" and I don't know about the rest of the world, but I'd want the "real them" to be as real as possible. No BS. No gimmicks.

So the question is: In the real world, is the no-BS, "game-free" approach a plus or a minus? I'll be the first to admit that I have "no game," but frankly I have no interest in learning how to game the system. Is "refusing to play the game" another way of saying "destined to remain on the sidelines?"

Sycophantically yours,
Chris

Oh man, you came to the right place.

Not because I can help you, because I can't. I've been married since I was TWENTY YEARS OLD.

At 20 years old, you wouldn't recognize a "game-free" approach if it walked up to you and said, "Hi, I have a game-free approach to dating. Would you like to go out?"

At 20 years old, you'd just go, "Are you old enough to buy me beer?"

Although I do seem to recall that one of the reasons I was in such a bloody hurry to get myself all married off was because I really, truly hated dating. I hated meeting new guys, waiting for them to call, waiting for them to admit that they liked me or didn't like me, blah blah blah breakupcakes.

So I married Jason, who is Perfect, and who could also buy me beer.

But! I think you came to the right place anyway, because the readership of this site skews distinctly female. Even more so since all this talk about my womb and boobs and farting began.

Also all the makeup talk. I'm pretty sure it's mostly the vaginas in the audience that care about that.

So at this point, ladies and gentleman, I'm turning the Advice Smackdown over to you. Let's help Chris out. Give him your two cents or a nickel about how to get back into the dating scene and whether or not he's got game. Or something.

I don't know all the dating lingo the crazy kids are using nowadays.

After you spread your commenty wisdom re: dating, perhaps you will feel qualified to start your own advice column. From which I will not stop you. But if you realize that maybe it's a little harder than you thought and would like to turn to me once again for the mad problem-solving skillz, please email me at advice@amalah.com.

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

Amy: Hey, remember the Wednesday Advice Smackdown?

You:  No, not really. Was it like wrestling?

Amy: The thing! With the advice! On Wednesdays! I used to do it every week. Until two weeks ago-ish.

You: Yes. Two whole weeks have gone by. It is forgotten. Over. We have moved on to bigger and better and more frequently-updated weblogs.

Amy: Fine then. Fuck all y'all. I will just give out advice to my own damn self then and I hope you and your new favorite weblog will be very happy together.

You: Nooooo! Amy! I'm kidding! I could never love anyone as much as I love you. Never! I'm sorry! Look, I will give you money for no reason!

Amy: Well...okay then. I do enjoy money.

You: Wait. I totally did not just say all that stuff. You typed it yourself. That is so not cool.

Amy: La la la.

You: Give me back my money, bitch.

Amalah, I seek your sagilicious advice, since you are so experienced in blog-related drama.

I think I have a blog stalker. See, after my very first blog post ever, this girl commented that she loved my site, so--yay! Why don't I check hers out. Which I did, to find out she had copied my "about me" word for word as her own. Weeks later, I mentioned this to a friend, who then commented on the stalker's site--why are you stealing (insert secret identity blog name here)'s stuff? Stalker promptly apologized, removed my writing, and all was well with the world.

Until another comment popped up on my blog from someone with a secret identity extraordinarily similar (different by one word) to my own. She's started a new blog. Just like my own. Using my template at blogger (I know. I use a Template. Hate me forever and flog me twice). And with a catch phrase also similar to my own. She would like me to link to her on my blog. I am certain from her description, location, and--hell--MO that this is the same copy cat as before.

Here's the thing. I admire your brattiness. I could probably use some more of it myself. She's not a mean gal, and I don't wish to be mean toward her. How can I tactfully say to her: no, I do not want to link to you, Miss Copy Cat Stalker?

Love,
Real Girl

Can you believe I have never been plagiarized? Everybody's been plagiarized. I honestly don't think you're somebody until you've been plagiarized. I'm a nobody! Nobody wants to steal from me.

Possibly because they sense that I would personally break their index fingers if they did.

Anyway, you need to fight Crazy with Crazy. Here is what you write to Little Miss NutJob:

Dear Little Miss NutJob:

Thanks for commenting! You type very pretty. I bet you have handwriting like a serial killer.

As for your request for me to link to you, there's a bit of a problem. If I linked to your site, I would actually be linking to MYSELF, as there is so much copy-cattitude going on at your site I fear that linking to you would rip a hole in the blogosphere time-space continuum and Blogger would crash and suddenly we'd be in some parallel universe where I was copying from you and doing it in Chinese, for some reason.

And none of us want that. Only communists want that.

Love,

Real Girl

P.S. I heart Cheerios!

Hopefully she won't bother you again, because clearly, you'll have her beat in the unbalanced department. Suddenly emulating your site won't sound so great to her anymore and she'll go copy somebody else. Like me! And then I will get some violence, and everybody will be happy.

And then you go get somebody to make you a custom template. Just sayin'.

Amalah:

I know you are Very Busy right now, but I have a pressing question: We adopted a dog two weeks ago. Jelly is not as tiny as Ceiba, but she is small, and she has a lot less hair than she used to due to the grooming we gave her (necessary to get rid of all the crap - figurative AND literal, I'm afraid) that was in her fur. (See here for the before-and-after.)

Anyway, Jelly seems to be an elderly lady and she's cold a lot. She shivers and her little gums even flap. She does have an outside coat, but I'm afraid we may need to break down and buy her a sweater to wear indoors, esp. at night when we turn our heat very low (because we are cheap and also because it's nice to burrow into warm covers in a cold room).

So, here's my question: What does one look for in a dog sweater? Any styles, colors you think might be appropriate for an aged shih tzu/lhasa mix living in Maine (pleeeease don't say flannel!)? And, finally, how do we avoid being laughed at by all the other dogs and people?

Many thanks,
mc

First of all, you will never avoid being laughed at by other dogs and people, because people? Are assholes. And a lot of them, apparently, are really really bugged by small dogs.

Is it the Paris Hilton thing? The Taco Bell thing? The assumption that EVERY SMALL DOG IS A CHIHUAHUA, because that’s the only small breed people know about?

I really don’t know. But after we got Ceiba, I was shocked by how mean people can be about small dogs. In the first month we had her, Ceiba was:

1) Referred to as a seizing, bald hamster,

2) Made fun of on an online forum, and

3) Called an ugly rat purse dog by total strangers.

And I got really fucking pissed off, each and every time. For Christ sakes, she was a PUPPY, in the CITY, where there are NO YARDS, and also? MY DOG.

Now I take it more in stride. I gently correct people when they say, “Yo quiero Taco Bell” at Ceiba like it’s the funniest thing ever, and I no longer punch people who ask me if I keep her in my purse like THAT’S the funniest thing ever.

And she wears her sweaters and coats unapologetically. Well, I put them on her that way, at least, because she fucking hates them. Luckily, a lot of people put coats on their dogs (big and small alike) in our neighborhood. The key is to buy ones that are practical. Simple. Not floofy.

Because if you’re outside waiting for your dog to take a shit so you can pick it up with a plastic baggie and your dog is wearing a pink fluffy cashmere sweater with flower-shaped buttons? You deserve to be laughed at. In fact, I’m laughing at you right now.

I’m also laughing at this.

In fact, let’s make that your first rule. No sweaters made from any type of luxury material. Mostly because your dog will end up eating most of the clothes you buy for her. Ceiba has destroyed three.

So just get a nice simple sweater, with no bows or bells or other dangly things. Be careful with turtlenecks, as they have the tendency to make your dog look like a giant Q-Tip. And no feather boas. Ever.

Dearest, loveliest, tartiest (in a good way!) Amalah:

What do you believe the shelf life of bangs will be this go 'round? Are bangs to go the way of ponchos or will they have the staying power of capris? Inquiring minds want to know.

Signed,
BG

All the cool kids are growing out their bangs.

Mine are already all the way down past my eye sockets!

(Sigh. I just spent 20 minutes trying to Photoshop some cool graffiti on a brick wall that says BANGS ARE DEAD before I remembered that I have no artistic talent whatsoever. And also that it was a stupid idea.)

Dear Ama lama ding-dong, and no, I don’t know what struck me to refer to you in this manner:

I am a married man seeking the advice of a married woman who might know about these things (I didn’t mean for that to come out like a personal ad, but there you have it) --

What would be a good present for the 2nd wedding anniversary? Mine is coming up soon and I am somewhat at a loss with the traditional “cotton” theme. The limited research I have done suggests things like sheets and pillows, which we already have in abundance. I’d like to do something that fits within the theme, but not so run-of-the-mill.

Any inspiration to share?
Tommy

Okay, I'm going to tell you about The Greatest Anniversary Gift Ever now. Ever!

It was our wedding anniversary -- our ONE MONTH wedding anniversary. Couldn't you all just gag?

I was still in school at Penn State, and Jason knew that I read the Daily Collegian paper every damn day. (Because I used to work there for like, two weeks I felt I knew all the inner workings of the paper and finding copy editing mistakes totally made my day.) He also knew I always read the classifieds, so he placed the following ad that day:

Sun: This is it. Go to (such and such address) after class today. Dress sharp.

(Yes, his nickname for me was Sun. As in Sunshine. Shut up.)

The address was a jewelry store downtown, where the salesgirl had a little bag waiting for me with a necklace and earrings set in it. And a note from Jason telling me to head to Victoria's Secret in the mall.

There I met more salesgirls who were completely in love with my husband and presented me with a bag full of very sexy underwear that he'd picked out earlier. And...a note telling me to head home.

At home, there was a new dress laid on on the bed, a dozen roses on the table, and a note telling me to meet him at the Allen St. Grill back downtown. Which was the end, and dinner, and champagne, and la la la best day ever.

So yeah. Do that for your wife. Or you know, get her some nice cotton towels. I'm sure she'll like that just as well.

Amalah,

So, I have this friend who recently found out that she's pregnant. She has told family and some close friends, but has not yet disclosed this information publicly on her bloggy website thing. And I know that she must be dying to. Because she's struggled with fertility problems for a while now -- shit, this woman went so far as to buy a three pound dog that some might say looks like a seizing, bald hamster just to quell her baby cravings. And now she's going to have a REAL LIVE BABY! And that is VERY EXCITING! Especially considering her past non-pregnant difficulties. And I say that she should let the cat out of the Coach bag and tell the world, or at least her internet readers. How do I convince her to do so?

xoxo,
Martha

Well, you could always out her on her own damn advice column.

Which I guess you already did! Huh.

(Do you think anybody will actually read all the way down to the end of this post?)

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

SPECIAL THURSDAY SLACKER EDITION

Blah blah blah witty introduction to the concept here plus life updates (HINT: BUSY AND COLD AND SOME HEATING FIXER GUY LEFT A SCARY FLANNEL SHIRT IN MY CLOSET YESTERDAY AND ALSO I GAVE CEIBA A BATH AT 3:30 A.M. LAST NIGHT AND I ADVISE YOU NOT TO ASK ABOUT IT.)

Anyway, there is no time for any of that today! No time at all! Go directly to the advice! Do not pass go! Do not listen to a SINGLE HYSTERICAL WORD that I am typing today!

Dearest Amalah,

I have fine, stick straight, doesn't hold a curl hair. I am currently growing out my bangs. Growing out your bangs when you have fine straight hair, quite honestly sucks. I can't master the side swept bangs, I'm thinking because I had really thick baby bangs.

I look awful with longish thick bangs, because of the chubby cheeks. I just have the two clumps on either side looking sucky. Unless, I use a bobby pin to hold them back, but that just looks flat and weird.

So, in the meantime I have been toying (and by toying I mean the appt. is Jan 29) with getting a body wave, just for something different.  The last perm I got was in the late 80's and they burnt my scalp, and the damn thing fell out in about 2 weeks.

I just want some nice soft waves that are not poodley and not crunchy while growing everything out.

Am I crazy to be doing this?

Megan

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

(Actually, so strong are my feelings about this issue that I broke format and e-mailed Megan the instant I got her question and ordered her to cancel the appointment because I was afraid that maybe I'd get hit by a bus and be in a coma and not be able to warn her otherwise.)

The gentle, soft body wave is a MYTH, propagated by the perm industry to sucker in otherwise stylish young women who would otherwise never, EVER go near those malevolent little perming rods.

I know because I was one of them once. Aaaaannnnd...we shall never mention that again.

And my mother and I spent HOURS on Thanksgiving morn trying to undo the damage done to her hair by a so-called "body wave." Her hair was so dry and overprocessed and crunchy and permificated that I had to send her home with a week's supply of hot oil, a $27 bottle of shampoo and a shopping list for about $150 in smoothing/conditioning/volumizing styling products.

Yes. Volumizing. Because here's the thing: if your hair won't hold a curl, it's NOT HOLDING THE BODY WAVE either. Your hair will curl and kink up around your face, but the heavier layers on the back of your head will continue to just sit there. <sit> See?

Again, I may know this from personal experience, but we are NOT TALKING ABOUT IT.

Anyway. So what to do about the bangs? And what to do about the Ricky Martin "She Bangs" song now stuck in my head?

First, you must accept that growing out your bangs is a painful and tedious journey. Many have failed. Many have taken the kitchen scissors to their foreheads and undone all the progress in a tantrum, only to begin again.

Second, you must use quality volumizing products like Pureology Volumizing Shampoo and Conditioner and Root Lifter Spray Mousse. Not on your bangs, but bodytastic hair will help mask the bangs.

Third, you must master the sideswept thing. It sounds like your bangs need to be thinned out.  I just had this done on Saturday (by someone who was NOT my regular stylist, Neat, who is on bedrest because apparently babies are more important to her than me, but more on that later).

Here, in an outtake from the Scarf Entry, you can how formerly blunt-cut bangs can be given some texture.

Now I've got pointy-ish whispy bangs now instead of a fringe, which are much, MUCH easier to push over to the side.

And by "push," I mean "blow-dry." Blow-dry your bangs last, use lots of tension from your brush, and blow them straight out with only the slightest last-minute tug over to where you want them.

NotNeat also advised me to push my bangs AGAINST my natural hair growth. This is an excellent theory, as this will give your bangs the allusion of body and make them more...um...not flat. So far, I'm not digging it for me, because I've got the faintest widow's peak (OKAY, it's a cowlick) on my forehead that really, REALLY doesn't like being pushed around in any direction it don't rightly feel like goin' in, pardner.

But hair, like small rat dogs, needs to be trained. Don't worry if your bangs fall straight in your eyes at first. Just keep parting them and pushing them in the same direction every day and they'll start doing it naturally after awhile.

Lay off the products, as you don't want to weigh them down and make your forehead all zitty. I use BedHead Head Rush spray shine on my bangs and then run my fingers through to separate out the wispy pieces. If they are misbehaving, I'll use a styling paste (not pomade or fiber or wax) to give a little more hold. Use a tiny bit of hairspray right at the roots while your "training" them to go in a certain direction.

And! Don't be afraid to pin them back. Because whatever, some days they just look like shit. But to keep them from being all flatty flat, give them a twist or two before pinning them loosely. And always use more pins than you actually need. Like five bobby pins (mixed maybe with a sparkely one) or a couple snap barettes. This gives you the look of, "Yeah, I'm fucking Carrie Bradshaw and I MEANT to look this kooky and totally did not NEED to use a bobby pin to get my ratty ass bangs out of my eyes."

(This look works especially well if you have a layered cut and use Bumble & Bumble's Surf Spray to scrunch your hair into a wild, textured bed headish look instead of blow-drying.)

Oh! And this is the LAST thing I am going to say about bangs because this has gotten so boring and blah but this is really important. I asked NotNeat what his #1 advice would be for growing bangs out and he said, "Um. Don't cut them?"

Sigh. Come back, Neat!

Dear Amalah Who Has Such Pretty Pretty Hair,

Luckily, my question does not have an immediate time limit so feel free to get to it whenever you get a chance (however I am in a wedding in June so before then would be helpful).  Anyway, thing is I moved a year and a half ago to rural Vermont... which is redundant I know.  Anyhoo, worst part?  Finding a stylist/color genius.  Luckily I found the greatest stylist ever (1 hour away, but still, it's HAIR, it's worth it) who I have gone to until, apparently, now.  When I called to check on the exact date of my appointment later this month I was informed she had left.  No forwarding address, no contact info, nothing.  The bigger issue is that this was a teeny, tiny salon, and the other people there are unknown quantities I don't want experimenting on my hair, and the owner's own hair is reminiscent of Motley Crue circa 1984 (bangs and all, well, except the spangled headband).   So staying at the salon is NOT an option.  I could go into Boston, which is probably the most reliable option.  My question is, how should I pick a salon?  Is there a website online that has reviews (like say frommers?).  I truly got lucky this past time, and it's important for me to find a talented colorist I trust because I like to go in and say "I'd like it to be a little warmer" and let them create their masterpiece.  Also, shouldn't my current salon have notified her clients?  I feel like if I hadn't called I would have walked in there in 2 weeks to find out I had an appointment with the Nikki Six impersonator.  Oh, and asking for recs from co-workers is so not an option, unless I want to look 40 years older and have my highlights done with a CAP. 

4-weeks from truly heinous roots,
Suzie

Bah. Your stylist, while talented, was clearly a heartless bitch. Either that or Motley Crue Lady had her killed and decomposed the body in a vat of bleaching cream and in that case you should call the police. And not ever go back to that salon.

My salon at least called me when Neat was put on bedrest, and were even nice enough to pass my altruist platitudes about her health and the health of NeatBaby to her and left out the part where I whined and asked that if I came and sat on the floor by the bed, could she still do my hair?

I saw NotNeat because that's who Neat was recommending her clients see instead. NotNeat was very cool and funny and totally thinks my book idea will be a best seller and also had really cool tattoos. A haircut with NotNeat cost $35.

While he was cutting my hair I was relaxed and comfortable and we discussed my upcoming highlighting needs and desires (I would like to go punk rockish. Suggestions?). But after I went to pay the bill and they told me $35 I was sent hurtling into self-doubt and panic. Haircuts do not cost $35! Haircuts cost much, much more than that! My GOD, $35 is practically like that place that rhymes with Bare Buttery that we just DON'T TALK ABOUT.

Obviously, Neat recommended her clients to a junior stylist, or even an apprentice. Which, fine, maybe he's her apprentice and she thinks he's a genius, but I'm also afraid she wanted to ensure that she gets all her clients back after the NeatBaby gets here.

(And I know all of this has NOTHING to do with your question. I just felt like announcing to the world that 1) I enjoy paying top-dollar for my haircuts, and 2) if it looks like ass it is NOT MY FAULT.)

ANYWAY, finding a stylist in a rural area really is just like finding one in the city. Talk to people with good hair. Get referrals from friends or lord, even stop strangers and ask them where they got their hair done. I have done this. It was in the line for the bank, and the woman even had a referral card in her purse because she was so totally crazy in love with her hairdresser.

And like any woman is going to run away screaming if another woman dares to COMPLIMENT THEIR HAIR. Oh my God! The insanity!

(Also, Vermont? Maybe try the touristy areas around the ski resorts? There was a really nice spa I went to in Killington while my family was off doing that crazy-ass "skiing" thing that I believe did hair, and all the snobby girlie girls working the reception area had really pretty highlights. I do not remember the name or even if they definitely did hair or even if it was an actual place that I did not dream. It was the spa at the place with the thing. Look it up in the phone book and call today!)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There is more advice coming later today, including: Mini-Backpacks: Totally Out Or Just Out?  And Help! My Girlfriend Smells Like My Grandma!

(See? Now I just KNOW you'll come back.)

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jebus God. I cannot keep my eyes open any longer. I was planning to work late tonight and make a wee dent in my gigahugmungous pile of work, but...GOD. And since y'all so lovingly and pointedly made note of my multiple spelling/linkage/grammar errors in the questions above, I'm sensing that I'm not quite up to my A-game in the editing/writing department. Oh! The irony!

So how about some more advice nonsense? That I'm sure will be very, very bad and not-funny as I seem to have misplaced my sense of humor today, but I think that tends to happen after you only get 20 minutes sleep at night because of a damn dog and a damn heater and a damn anxiety attack about your damn job.

In summary: Hate.

Oh Stylish and Pretty Amalah:

I have a dilemma. At least, I think I have a dilemma.  This morning on my commute to work, I noticed something.  As I was pulling my book out of my cute leather mini-backpack, I looked around at the other female commuters and noticed that none of them had cute leather mini-backpacks like mine. I love my mini-backpack, because it is so practical and can hold my wallet and my book and I can sling it on my back and have my hands free while I shop.

But I realized today that my cute leather mini-backpack may not be in style anymore.  I have hope that it might be so out-of-style as to be retro.  But I'm in a panic that maybe, just maybe, it is just "out." Downgraded.  Possibly even just silly, especially to the other career girls on the train with their shoulder bags that say "LV" all over them in bright colors.

So I am turning to you for advice, as you are the most stylish person I read about online. I feel I can ask you my question and receive an answer - an honest-yet-gentle, sisterly advice kind of answer.  Is my bag "out?"  Should I retire it to the back of my closet?  Should I buy a new trendy bag from one of those guys with the pushcarts on the corner?  Which one?

Your faithful reader,
So Wants to be Chic in Chicago

Well, there really is no easy way to tell you this, but your bag is so out that Bobby Trendy and Carson Kressley are tiny, wee flamboyant specks on the horizon. It's Sears and J.C. Penney out. It's out.

(Although there is a distinction if it's a brightly-colored Ugg mini-backpack, for the specific reason that it's totally impractical for work and really costs a lot of money for something that only will go with a quarter of your wardrobe. As usual, this makes it acceptable.)

So yes. You need a new bag. But before you feel sad, let me tell you that the girls with the brightly-colored Louis Vuitton bags are carrying last year's knock-off as well. Those LV fakes are so prevalent that they've pretty much destroyed even the genuine article, and besides, EVERYBODY is carrying the multi-colored Dooney & Bourke bags instead this year. So go ahead and laugh at them too, because we ALL KNOW you bought that bag for $20 off a street corner and you ain't foolin' nobody.

(And please don't send me hate mail if you carry a knock-off and love it and think I'm a shallow, spoiled bitch and blah dee blah. I really couldn't care less if your bag is fake. I've owned fakes too. I'm just warning you, though, that a hell of a lot more people can tell the difference than you think. The end.)

But just think...you get to buy a new bag! I love buying new bags! 

You strike me as the type who falls deeply in love with your bags, so my advice is to STAY AWAY from the trendy purses. You want a fashionable, yet classic bag. There's a huge difference.

Trendy:

Fashionable, Yet Classic:

The classic bag can be carried for years. The trendy one will be over and out and done with well before the final death knell of Ashlee Simpson's career. Which fine, it's adorable, but many of us do not have money trees in our backyard.  Yet.

But it IS worth spending money on a good bag. I know! You're totally shocked that I'm saying that. But it is. You want a bag that will last -- one that you can lovingly wrap in tissue paper once you put it on hiatus, knowing full well that even years later, it will still look gorgeous and provoke looks of envy on the subway when the other riders see you carrying a vintage Prada bag while they've ended up spending hundreds on cheap Kate Spade knock-offs that fall apart every three months.

So. For the budget-conscious-ish business-like girl on the subway who wants to carry a wallet, a book, some makeup and a Mini iPod, I present to you two of the most perfect bags on the planet.

This is a Cole Haan medium-sized tote, which has the benefit of being super hot right now because women are finally rebelling against the twee little purses,  and is also an absolute classic bag. The straps are long enough to go over your shoulder, and the bag is narrow enough to not get in the way of your arms. It's $275 at Nordstrom and Neiman Marcus, (which, dude, bargain) and comes in a tangerine color and a winter white if you feel kicky. Does it not just scream "professional businesswoman of steel who also carries 14 tubes of fruity-flavored lipgloss around?" It totally does.

This is the Dooney & Bourke crocodile dome satchel. I think I might be in love. It also comes in black and grape (!) and has fun little interior pockets. It's $325 at Nordstrom's. This one screams "AMY! AMMMMMMMMY!"

So there you go. Ditch the fool backpack and buy yourself a classic shoulder tote. Spend some dollars and get one that will last forever, which is a good argument to convince the super-practical husband to buy it for you, at least until he realizes that you're pulling that very argument out every time the seasons change.

And then maybe buy this one for the weekends, because we can't ALWAYS be professional businesswomen of steel, right?

Dear all-knowing Amalah,

I have a situation on my hands. It's one of those times where you question if you should be honest, or just suck it up and deal. My girlfriend, who is incredibly cute and sweet, wears a perfume that I do not like. I'm not even sure what the name is. It's not terrible, but to me, it smells faintly like an old lady. Amalah, I am not old. I am not dating an old lady. But this is her favorite perfume and she has worn it for many, many years. I just think that there are super sexier perfumes out there. So, what do I do? Tell her the perfume isn't my favorite? Surprise her with some new perfume? If so, what other super sexy scents do you suggest? Or do I do nothing at all and just be thankful that she is my girlfriend? You seem very knowledgeable in the world of beauty products, so I feel you can help.

-Not a fan of old lady perfumes

Ok, this is what you do. The next time you see the perfume bottle live and in-person, every so casually pick it up and examine it. Then say, "Hey! This is the same stuff my mom/grandmom/elderly-shut-in-aunt-with-12-cats wears! I KNEW it reminded me of somebody."

That should be the end of Eau de Granny.

(Or, if you'd like to be less direct, just swear up and down that you can't smell it anymore you read somewhere on the Internet that sometimes your body chemistry changes so perfumes you wear for years and years can suddenly smell differently or not at all, so it's good to change formulas every once in awhile.)

(And it won't be a lie, because you just read it here, on the Internet.)

And then you buy her some new perfume. I won't recommend brands here because it's personal -- that old lady perfume you're smelling could be something most people consider sexy, like Obsession (spicy and yum), but to you it's mothballish and that's all there is to it. It must go.

And seriously, the perfume department at a nice department store (Like Nordstrom! The official store of Amalah.com! Send her free things!) is the most guy-friendly place in the world, even better than the lingerie. Sephora will help you pick something out too, and they even have little bowls of coffee beans to ward off odor-overload. They'll help you find what YOU think is sexy and won't say a word if you get a hard-on once you find it. (Hey. It HAPPENS.)

And once you find it, you can thank me by sending me some Marc Jacobs. Or the Fresh Index Fragrance Chronicles, because what girl would not love the perfume equivalent to an easy-bake oven?

Tantrummy

OH MY GOD Y'ALL.

You know how I like to whine about how busy I am at work? And that I have SO MUCH to do and wah wah wah and feel sorry for me because I'm going die?

And you know how usually I'm full of shit? Well, I'm not this time. I mean it. I am going to die. The cause of death will be stress and many tiny, tiny paper cuts. And possibly frostbite from the whole no-heat-in-the-condo bullshit, which made me very late for work this morning (don't ask), which seriously cut into my valuable freak-out time.

I have so much to do before February 1st that I've hit that deer-in-the-headlights point of panic where all I can do is stare stupidly at my to-do list and move stacks of paper around my desk, as if I'm magically going to find 17 spare special reports and an assistant just lying around under the clutter.

(Also, confidential to a certain person who is not helping things: All this work is NOT MY FAULT. I am sorry that MY HUGUNDOUS WORK LOAD may mean you have to do work as well, but that is YOUR JOB and don't act so surprised when I come to you with your part of this special report brouhaha and act like you had NO IDEA it was coming because YOU DID, you BIG DRAMA QUEEN, and besides, you will never OUT-DRAMA QUEEN ME because I have a WEBSITE on which to throw my tantrums so meeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhfft.)

(Also, just wait until you see what I'll be bringing you next week.)

(Also also, YOU HAVE AN ASSISTANT. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP.)

(Breathes.)

Sorry about that. Do you think I'll get fired for that? In case the person reads it? Maybe? Or does it need more cursing and personal insults? Because really, getting fired may very well be my only way out.

Well, there is ONE OTHER WAY, but it ain't pretty, because it means postponing the Wednesday Advice Smackdown until at least tomorrow. Which pains me greatly to do, because it's going to be a good one, or it could be if I could just calm the fuck down for a good 30 minutes or so.

How's everybody's July look? Could I get back to you then? Peachy.

Wednesday Advice Smackdown

OK, enough with all the social awareness and global perspective crap. Let's get back to the brattiness and the whining.

But first...

Today is De-lurking Day, the brainchild of the fabulous Sheryl of Paper Napkin, who orders you to stop lurking and leave a damn comment already. And believe me, you don't want to cross Sheryl.

And for real: I check my stats. I know y'all are out there. Many, many, many of you who are apparently really bored at work. You just aren't commenting like all the cool kids. So please, step up and introduce yo'selves today. I won't bite and promise to only make fun of you if you say something really, really stupid or insult my shoes. Or my dog. Or anything I have ever done or said in my entire life. That's my job, bitches.

You know what also is my job? Quality fake advice. It's a job I've neglected over the past few weeks, but now I am proud to announce the triumphant return of the most popularest feature here at amalah.com (judging by traffic, not comments, because y'all are COMMENT PUSSIES), THE WEDNESDAY ADVICE SMACKDOWN! Woo! Yay! Whatever!

Dear Amalah,

I have been interviewing editorial assistants for like, eight years now and still have not hired one. Candidate #452 turned down my job offer yesterday. Why? WHY? What's wrong with me? Why does no one want to assist to my editorial needs?

Amalah

P.S. I like your shoes.

So Candidate #452 turned out to have been spectacularly overpaid at her previous job and was apparently shocked at what entry level editorial jobs pay. (Even though our offer was SUBSTANTIALLY more than what I was paid when I held that position, so CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER.) So she said no thanks and I'm back staring at the saddest pile of resumes ever.

(EMPLOYMENT TIP: If you would like to obtain employment in the exciting world of publishing, try 1) spelling the company's name correctly, 2) not spilling food on your resume, 3) not talking about your time and experience in "costumer service" or as a "profreader," or 4) not submitting frightening articles about how Marilyn Manson is the greatest rock star ever as your writing sample.)

So I have no assistant. And January is shaping up to be the most horrific month ever. Starting...NOW.

(This is my really long and roundabout way of saying that the Advice Smackdown questions will be posted one at a time throughout the day whenever I get a spare moment to type out some hackneyed garbage.)

(Talk amongst yourselves.)

Dear Amalah,

After a glorious session of Tuesday Afternoon Drinking Club involving hot whiskey at the bar in the Four Seasons, I accidentally accepted a holiday temp position with a company I despise.

Since I'm about to sell my book and become a famous writer, I want to tell them I'm not working and to go pound sand.  However, there's a chance I'm deluded and my book won't sell and I won't ever get another temp job if I suggest the sand business.

I want to have a good holiday where I don't hurt innocent bystanders with office machinery because of displaced anger at my own poor decision to answer the phone while loaded.

So, what should I do?

Best,
Jen

So I had this whole response written before I realized that this question came with a bit of an expiration date. Which I missed, possibly because I've been drunk since like, December 14th.

Jen probably doesn't need my advice about this problem anymore, which is a shame, because my original response was pretty funny. Or maybe I'm lying and there wasn't an original response at all, because I KNEW I'd missed my window on this question but am posting it anyway because I'm lazy.

And whatever, the Delurking Day comments are coming in fast and furious so I could really just sit here and type stuff like aklfljdhf aorueljf, Kdu87! and this post would still get a bazillion comments telling me how awesome I am.

That's probably the actual truth. But now I feel guilty for lying to y'all and impugning on the Sanctity of the Smackdown. So Jen? Turn down the temp job and come work for me. We'll get drunk and write best-sellers together.

Dear Amalahlahlah,

The good news is that I am currently losing weight. Yay for me.  The bad news is that I am losing NONE of my gigundous chest.  Yes, this sounds great. But if all goes well, I will still have the problem of large boobs.

Yes, I said problem, and I'm not kidding.

See, all dresses are made for women who are slender and willowy.  They are. Trust me.  And I hate wearing dresses that make me look like a streetwalker.  At the same time, if I wear a normal dress, I look like I've lost no weight, and well, I basically need advice on what kind of dress to get.  I know v-necks, I know prints, and trust me, wrap-arounds are NOT an option (very streetwalker-ish).

But I would like to be pretty when I am going to my best friend's wedding this new year's.  And now I'll need a new dress.  Which creates the worst event known to man: Alektra Dress Shopping.

Please, if you can find out from someone, because you are willowy and feminine and beautiful and know not of this sort of distress of looking like a German hausfrau, it would be greatly appreciated.

Sincerely,
Hilda

P.S. - The drive chain on my Subaru, how often should I get that checked?

So I sent your question over to a couple friends of mine this morning, both with the introduction that I was only asking them because I have no boobs and they have glorious boobs and I'm NOT calling them German hausfraus because on them the big boobs TOTALLY WORK and in fact, I'm not asking them to give dress advice from personal experience AT ALL, because they are so gorgeous and perfectly proportioned but maybe they know someone who has a boobage problem and on second thought forget I even sent this.

One of them just replied: The wedding was on New Year's? Because in that case, I'm guessing she already got a dress.

(Weeps)

Okay, I promise to never take two weeks off again, because I let everybody down and I'm left with all these old questions stinking up the place like expired milk.

Anyway. My friend is a big fan of the shirred (or ruched) V-neck dress. The V-neck is cleavtastic, and the slight gathering will accentuate your weight loss and make you look all hour-glassy. Nicole Miller makes several pretty basic dresses like that. She also recommends the flowy, pretty things over at Max Studio -- any of their silky embroidered tops paired with a kicky skirt with an asymmetrical hem will increase the willowy factor.

(I did not just type "kicky skirt." I DID NOT.)

Now I must go shopping for dresses, even though I have no parties or weddings to go to for months. But look! So kicky!

Also, get your drive chain checked every 30,000 miles.

Amy,

So what does one wear to a strip club?  I believe that next weekend I will be visiting one with my husband, his buddy and his buddy’s girlfriend and I am not sure what would be appropriate attire.  No, this isn’t my first visit to a male or female strip club, but it is the first time with my new husband and for that reason it just seems different.  Okay so should I wear my short black skirt and sexy lingerie type top or should I play things down and wear jeans?  I am just not altogether sure what would be appropriate.  So please all-knowing one.. What should I wear??

Strip-teased

Wear the jeans WITH the sexy lingerie top. That's an outfit that says: "Yes, I am sexy and confident enough to wear underwear-like apparel in public, but yet I am not a whore in a g-string."

(Now this is the part of the post where I would like my mother to stop reading.)

The only strip club I went to was in Canada. I was on a business trip. I was also drunk and just beginning to feel the effects of the food poisoning I contacted at the airport. So clearly, I was out of my mind when my coworkers suggested we go to an establishment called "Bare Fax" and I was all, "Sure!"

It could have also been because the whole thing was sort of my idea to begin with.

Anyway. I do not remember what I was wearing at all. I do recall being overdressed, in more ways than one. I also remember meeting one stripper who had the softest skin I have ever felt and I asked her what kind of moisturizer she used and she told me but I immediately forgot. This may have been during a lap dance that someone else bought for me.

(I forget why I started telling this story. Hopefully y'all are so preoccupied with the de-lurking that nobody is reading this far.)

Anyway, right after the hypothetical lap dance the food poisoning kicked in and I started throwing up in the club's restroom (which was unisex) and basically didn't stop until my plane home.

So yes. Lingerie top and jeans. Bring a jacket, lots of ones and some antibacterial hand gel. Stay away from airport chicken the day of your visit, and for the love of God, try to find out what kind of moisturizers the strippers use, because that has been BUGGING me ever since.

Got a question? Now that you've de-lurked and commented, I just know you want to ask your old pal Amy for advice, right? Right. Send all your problems to advice@amalah.com and maybe I'll use it next week and you can comment again and say something like, "Hey! That's my question!" And all the other commenters will be like, SO JEALOUS because you are so cool.

Or don't. Whatever.