Ok, now that you've all read my incredibly boring curly backround, it's time to get to the real stuff.
I have literally spent years trying to find the magic secret to perfect curls, and I think I'm almost there. I admit, I'm a total "product junkie" and I'm always looking for the next Holy Grail of hair care to set me right. Between deep conditioning, straightening balm, sulfate-free shampoo, moroccan oil, frizz serum, scrunching gel, finishing cream, and up to 5 conditioners in my shower at the same time, it's gotten a tad out of control at times. I actually have 4 different products on their way to me in the mail right now. Hey, every curly has a different hair cocktail. Don't judge me.
But I have since figured out it's not totally about the products you pack on, but it's about how to care for your hair itself.
That's where the Curly Girl Method comes in.
(to be referred to from here on out as "CG")
"What is the CG method?" you may blindly ask. Well, sit down and have a drink, 'cause I'mma tell you.
CG is all about protecting curly hair and keeping it as healthy as possible. The basic idea is that curly hair generally has a weaker hair shaft than straight hair. Because of all the curves and bends, the hair cuticle is naturally more open and porous, and therefore loses moisture much more easily and quickly.
Most shampoos have something called sulfates in them, which is the active ingredient used to clean the hair. However, sulfates are very harsh cleansers and extremely drying on hair. It's the same active ingredient used in dishwashing soap. This strips the hair shaft of moisture, and for curly hair, this ends in disaster. If the curls are thirsty, they will soak up moisture from anywhere they can, and most often, it will be the humidity in the hair that is the most accessible.
And you all know what happens then. POOF.
Beyonce ain't the only one that can see your halo.
Now, to combat this excessive dryness that the sulfates have caused, most curly hair products (most conditioners in general too) use silicones to coat and slick down the hair shaft, thereby smoothing out curls and frizz. This is only a temporary fix, for the 'cones, as they are called in CG world, in addition to merely treating the symptom and not the cause, actually prevent moisture from entering the hair at all, leaving it parched underneath the fake sheen.
Not only that, but most silicones are so heavy that they can only be removed with... you guessed it... SULFATES.
So, we have the continuous catch-22 of hair care. We need silicones to cover up the damage the sulfates have done, but we need the sulfates to get the silicones out and clean the hair.
What is a curly to do???
It's quite simple actually. DON'T USE EITHER ONE OF THEM.
Now, it's true that some shampoos are made without sulfates, but if you want to go true CG, all you really need to wash your hair is... conditioner!
"Ew, that won't get my hair clean! How gross!"
Au contraire, my fair weather readers.
Curly hair needs all the moisture it can get. All you have to do is massage conditioner into your scalp, and the movement of your fingers plus the mild cleansing properties of the conditioner will be enough to loosen the dirt and oil enough to be rinsed out, and viola! Clean hair! Some girls use a lighter conditioner for 'co-washing' and a heavier one for actual conditioning, but you don't have to.
And let me just say, I have not washed my hair with shampoo in almost 6 months. My scalp is perfectly clean and healthy. If I really feel like I need it, I do a rinse with 2 cups of warm water, 2 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar, and 1 teaspoon of tea tree oil (for flakes) and it gets any residual product and oil right out. Not to mention the ACV makes my hair crazy shiny. Condition after, and you're ready to go.
Now, I will admit, when you transition to CG, the hardest part is seeing just how many of your current products have sulfates and silicones in them. When I checked, all but 1 of my products were not CG approved.
Let me say it again: Out of over 15 hair products, I could only keep using 1.
It took a lot to just toss all that money out the window, but it's totally been worth it. My hair is moisturized, healthy, bouncy, and pretty consistently forms the ringlets that I love so much.
There are more things you can do to help your hair, but that main no-sulfates-no-silicones philosophy is the core of being a CG. Some other CG tips include:
- Deep conditioning once a week
- Using only wide-toothed combs or finger combing, and only while in the shower
- Scrunching excess water out of your hair with old t-shirts or microfiber towels (NEVER use regular towels, they will pull on your hair and make it frizz)
- Using as little heat as possible, air drying is best if you have time
- Finger curling some pieces on top to make them look more uniform
- Finding out what type of curls you have and therefore what specific products to use
- "Clipping" hair at the root for added volume at the crown
All that is part of it too. But the main plan is to keep as much moisture in your hair as possible. When your hair is moisturized from the inside out, it won't be so desperate for the humidity in the air, and your hair will actually make it through the day.. or 2 or 3 if you're lucky!
I'll put some links that I have found incredibly useful if you feel like you need some more education/inspiration.
First, if you feel like you need more inspiration to go CG, here are only about a million before and after examples:
http://www.naturallycurly.com/curltalk/general-discussion-about-curly-hair/47609-post-your-before-after-cg-pics.html
Here is a more detailed step-by-step guide of CG, in case I didn't explain it well enough, or if I was too snarky for you:
http://www.wikihow.com/Follow-the-Curly-Girl-Method-for-Curly-Hair
Here is some scientific info on hair, in case you want to know more about why it works:
http://livecurlylivefree.com/curly%20hair%20basics.htm
If you're wondering how to identify products that don't have the SS demon duo, here are the ingredients to watch out for:
http://livecurlylivefree.com/product%20ingredients.htm
Here's where you can get a general idea of your curl type:
http://www.naturallycurly.com/texture-typing?utm_source=naturallycurly&utm_medium=bighighlight&utm_campaign=TTV4
This is from the website of the guy who recently cut my hair and convinced me to go CG forever. He rocked the cut, and has so many amazing tips, I'm in love:
http://www.nyccurls.com/knowyourcurl.html
Here is where you can look for products that fit you, read reviews, and easily see if they have evil ingredients:
http://www.naturallycurly.com/curlproducts/search
Deep conditioning is not a requirement, but they help SO MUCH, and you can even make your own! Here are some recipes:
http://www.curlynikki.com/2010/05/homemade-deep-conditioner-recipes.html
If you don't know what conditioner to start with, this crazy bitch systematically tries and reviews dozens of conditioners. I'm thankful, yet I pity her:
http://www.naturallycurly.com/curltalk/general-discussion-about-curly-hair/10605-conditioner-chronicles.html
Just to remind you that curly is beautiful, this tumblr makes me happy and proud to be curly:
http://welovecurls.tumblr.com/
For further research, http://www.naturallycurly.com/, http://www.curlynikki.com/, http://livecurlylivefree.com/, and http://www.curlmart.com/ are havens of information on what to do, what to get, and where to get it.
Go on, educate and treat yo'self. You deserve it.
Well, I do anyway. I'm assuming you do too.
Whew. That was all a mouthful. I hope some part of this helps you in any way. Love your hair, love yourself.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
The Method, Part 1
So, assuming you've read the title of this post, I'm sure you think that this will be about acting? Or, maybe how my move is going? Or maybe just how I manage to juggle a job, hobbies, and a social life all while staying fit with a smile on my face and shiny, perfect hair?
HAH. Especially if you thought anything about that last sentence was true. HAH.
Well, you're right about one thing. I'm going to write about my hair.
It doesn't always turn out shiny, and it sure is a far cry from perfect, but I've been making some changes to my routine over the last month or so, and in the last 2 weeks alone I've had more people ask me about my hair than in the last year.
Having curly hair is a blessing and a curse. Lately I've come to see it as more of the former, but growing up, it was a different story.
It seems like before about the year 1995, no one really knew a lot about curly hair. Any information available was supposed to apply to all hair types, whether it be cutting, brushing, cleaning, or setting your hair. Someone had finally turned curlies onto the diffuser, which helped, but for girls who lived in humid climates, trying to get your curls to look good and stay that way was next to impossible.
My own mom, who has full, beautiful hair, kept it in a pixie cut for most of high school in muggy South Florida, just because she didn't know what else to do with it. After she grew it out, she would blow-dry it most of the time, and it wasn't until after she married my dad she finally started to work with her natural texture. I have heard and read about similar stories so many times, and to those curlies who got through the 60's, 70's, and 80's without the products/information we have available today, I salute you.
As for me, I didn't really care much about my hair until middle school rolled around. Mom taught me to diffuse it, but beyond that, I just had no idea. I went from bushy, brushed-out hair, to helmet head ponytails, to crunchy misshapen curls, and all the while, frizz FRIZZ FRIZZ (using text size to demonstrate how it got progressively worse throughout the day). I got really good at the 'messy bun' look. Or, for me, a bun.
Basically, I spent days alternating which I hated more: my acne-prone skin, or my hair.
Through late high school and college, I found a mixture of products that more or less worked, but my hair would only feel healthy right after a cut, and never stayed that way for long. It always felt dry and just on the brink of total rebellion. I was treating the symptoms, not the cause.
Then, a few months ago, I decided to do some real research on my hair. I've been going to the same woman to cut my hair since middle school, and the 2 times I've 'cheated' on her, (and yes, that's what it felt like) I was horrified at the results. So, knowing this time around I would not have time to go home by the time I needed my next cut, I started looking up the real curl geniuses. I found one, but through his site, and about 100 links later, I found a storehouse of information on caring for curly hair; so much so that I found out styling, while important, is incidental. Healthy hair doesn't need or want you to mess with it much, and after hours and hours of research, I think I've stumbled upon a method that has changed the way I see my hair forever. I can now say, with no sarcasm, I LOVE my hair.
Not to mention that while yes, most guys prefer straight hair, the ones who like curly hair are REALLY REALLY into it. And hey, who can blame them?
This may all sound very shallow and narcissistic, but confidence is strongly linked to hair for many women, including me. My mom and sister always make fun of me for how much time I spend on my hair and face, but I feel like they are my best features, not to mention the ones people see first. I feel the most beautiful when I am healthy, and if my hair can project that, I can walk out the house with a little bit of swagger.
So, my fellow curlies, this is for you. In my next blog (Part 2), I'll give you a step-by-step idea of the method I follow, and some helpful links if you feel like educating yourself further on this matter.
And to my dear beloved girls just born with shiny, healthy, straight hair, just to make it clear: we don't hate you.
Well, ok, sometimes we hate you, but on our best hair days, we know you get jealous of us too :-)
HAH. Especially if you thought anything about that last sentence was true. HAH.
Well, you're right about one thing. I'm going to write about my hair.
It doesn't always turn out shiny, and it sure is a far cry from perfect, but I've been making some changes to my routine over the last month or so, and in the last 2 weeks alone I've had more people ask me about my hair than in the last year.
Having curly hair is a blessing and a curse. Lately I've come to see it as more of the former, but growing up, it was a different story.
It seems like before about the year 1995, no one really knew a lot about curly hair. Any information available was supposed to apply to all hair types, whether it be cutting, brushing, cleaning, or setting your hair. Someone had finally turned curlies onto the diffuser, which helped, but for girls who lived in humid climates, trying to get your curls to look good and stay that way was next to impossible.
My own mom, who has full, beautiful hair, kept it in a pixie cut for most of high school in muggy South Florida, just because she didn't know what else to do with it. After she grew it out, she would blow-dry it most of the time, and it wasn't until after she married my dad she finally started to work with her natural texture. I have heard and read about similar stories so many times, and to those curlies who got through the 60's, 70's, and 80's without the products/information we have available today, I salute you.
As for me, I didn't really care much about my hair until middle school rolled around. Mom taught me to diffuse it, but beyond that, I just had no idea. I went from bushy, brushed-out hair, to helmet head ponytails, to crunchy misshapen curls, and all the while, frizz FRIZZ FRIZZ (using text size to demonstrate how it got progressively worse throughout the day). I got really good at the 'messy bun' look. Or, for me, a bun.
Basically, I spent days alternating which I hated more: my acne-prone skin, or my hair.
Through late high school and college, I found a mixture of products that more or less worked, but my hair would only feel healthy right after a cut, and never stayed that way for long. It always felt dry and just on the brink of total rebellion. I was treating the symptoms, not the cause.
Then, a few months ago, I decided to do some real research on my hair. I've been going to the same woman to cut my hair since middle school, and the 2 times I've 'cheated' on her, (and yes, that's what it felt like) I was horrified at the results. So, knowing this time around I would not have time to go home by the time I needed my next cut, I started looking up the real curl geniuses. I found one, but through his site, and about 100 links later, I found a storehouse of information on caring for curly hair; so much so that I found out styling, while important, is incidental. Healthy hair doesn't need or want you to mess with it much, and after hours and hours of research, I think I've stumbled upon a method that has changed the way I see my hair forever. I can now say, with no sarcasm, I LOVE my hair.
Not to mention that while yes, most guys prefer straight hair, the ones who like curly hair are REALLY REALLY into it. And hey, who can blame them?
This may all sound very shallow and narcissistic, but confidence is strongly linked to hair for many women, including me. My mom and sister always make fun of me for how much time I spend on my hair and face, but I feel like they are my best features, not to mention the ones people see first. I feel the most beautiful when I am healthy, and if my hair can project that, I can walk out the house with a little bit of swagger.
So, my fellow curlies, this is for you. In my next blog (Part 2), I'll give you a step-by-step idea of the method I follow, and some helpful links if you feel like educating yourself further on this matter.
And to my dear beloved girls just born with shiny, healthy, straight hair, just to make it clear: we don't hate you.
Well, ok, sometimes we hate you, but on our best hair days, we know you get jealous of us too :-)
Thursday, August 30, 2012
The End of An Era
I don't really know how to say this. I mean, I know what I want to say, but I don't want to hurt... Listen, before I say any of this I just need you to know how much I love you and how much these last 7 years have meant to me. You've given me more than I ever imagined, and I wouldn't be the same person without you...
But I've changed. I'm ready to move on with my life, I need a place where I can grow. Dammit, I need space!
I guess I just have to say it.
NYC: I'm breaking up with you.
Yes, folks. This die-hard NY fan, accustomed and addicted to 4 am last calls, 24 hour delivery, broadway plays, subway musicals, and an unbeatable skyline is moving, of all places, to LA.
Take a moment. Shed a tear. I've shed a more than a few trying to come to terms with this.
The weird thing is that this really feels like a break-up. I have all sorts of emotions going on right now, ranging from sadness to excitement to guilt to nostalgia... It's driving me insane. How have I reached the point where I feel like I'm betraying a fucking city?? I wasn't born here, I haven't even reached the full 10-year New Yorker requirement, and god knows if I was in a relationship with NYC it was bipolar and emotionally abusive AT BEST.
But for some reason, I do.
The journey from 18 to 25 is rocky for everyone. It's when you go from trying to make your life what you THINK you want it to look like, to actually figuring out what YOU want, independent of anyone else. Screw puberty, this is the time I went from childhood to adulthood.
And, barring a couple of months here and there, I did it all in New York.
When I think back about the person I was when I came here, I know that my core beliefs really haven't changed. Be nice to people, don't murder, baby animals are awesome, etc. But I have changed in many big and small ways. Whether giving me the opportunity to meet incredible/awful people, go to incredible/awful performances, or see incredible/awful sights right on the street, I have to say that NYC is certainly a city of abundance. More than anything, an abundance of opportunities to learn.
Since being here, I've learned more than I ever dreamed about acting, friendship, drinking, mental and physical health, love, success, failure, sex, connection, being alone... So many lessons crammed into just 7 years. Not all of it was fun to learn. In fact, most of it wasn't. But I am a better, smarter, and tougher person for all of it.
And, let's be honest, I had a hell of a lot of fun in between.
I could list all the reasons here why I'm moving to LA. The problem is, those reasons change on a day-to-day basis. Sure, I'm looking to get more into film and there are more jobs there. Sure, I like beaches and hiking and camping, along with not having to travel for 3 hours to get to said activities. Sure, there are certain people I can't wait to see. Sure, I need a fresh start to go with this new person I've been becoming over the last year or so.
But honestly, more than anything... WHY NOT?
I'm 25! I'm independent! I'm young, smart, and beautiful! There is literally no better time to pick up my whole life and move it across the country just to see what happens.
So, rather than spend all my time looking back at what I'm going to miss, I've been trying to focus my energy into looking ahead at what could be. What this could mean for my life and my goals. Honestly, I've spent a lot of my time since making this decision in a pretty negative place, but that is all fear talking. Change is not easy. NY taught me that. It also taught me a lot about hope. I'm gonna let hope talk for a while.
And hey, LA may not be the master teacher that NYC has been, but everyone has something to teach, right?
And just to make the transition a little easier, MJ and I will be taking a 10 day roadtrip from NYC to LA, as a last hoorah, and fulfilling the dream of 'that trip' we always talked about taking together. It's going to be crazy fun, as long as we both make it out alive. (Just joking of course. Sort of.)
Yes, I'm scared. And I have the feeling that I will be looking back on these years with a lot of fondness and a little nausea for years to come.
But I'm also excited. And getting more excited every day.
Plus, you know, I can always move back ;-)
But I've changed. I'm ready to move on with my life, I need a place where I can grow. Dammit, I need space!
I guess I just have to say it.
NYC: I'm breaking up with you.
Yes, folks. This die-hard NY fan, accustomed and addicted to 4 am last calls, 24 hour delivery, broadway plays, subway musicals, and an unbeatable skyline is moving, of all places, to LA.
Take a moment. Shed a tear. I've shed a more than a few trying to come to terms with this.
The weird thing is that this really feels like a break-up. I have all sorts of emotions going on right now, ranging from sadness to excitement to guilt to nostalgia... It's driving me insane. How have I reached the point where I feel like I'm betraying a fucking city?? I wasn't born here, I haven't even reached the full 10-year New Yorker requirement, and god knows if I was in a relationship with NYC it was bipolar and emotionally abusive AT BEST.
But for some reason, I do.
The journey from 18 to 25 is rocky for everyone. It's when you go from trying to make your life what you THINK you want it to look like, to actually figuring out what YOU want, independent of anyone else. Screw puberty, this is the time I went from childhood to adulthood.
And, barring a couple of months here and there, I did it all in New York.
When I think back about the person I was when I came here, I know that my core beliefs really haven't changed. Be nice to people, don't murder, baby animals are awesome, etc. But I have changed in many big and small ways. Whether giving me the opportunity to meet incredible/awful people, go to incredible/awful performances, or see incredible/awful sights right on the street, I have to say that NYC is certainly a city of abundance. More than anything, an abundance of opportunities to learn.
Since being here, I've learned more than I ever dreamed about acting, friendship, drinking, mental and physical health, love, success, failure, sex, connection, being alone... So many lessons crammed into just 7 years. Not all of it was fun to learn. In fact, most of it wasn't. But I am a better, smarter, and tougher person for all of it.
And, let's be honest, I had a hell of a lot of fun in between.
I could list all the reasons here why I'm moving to LA. The problem is, those reasons change on a day-to-day basis. Sure, I'm looking to get more into film and there are more jobs there. Sure, I like beaches and hiking and camping, along with not having to travel for 3 hours to get to said activities. Sure, there are certain people I can't wait to see. Sure, I need a fresh start to go with this new person I've been becoming over the last year or so.
But honestly, more than anything... WHY NOT?
I'm 25! I'm independent! I'm young, smart, and beautiful! There is literally no better time to pick up my whole life and move it across the country just to see what happens.
So, rather than spend all my time looking back at what I'm going to miss, I've been trying to focus my energy into looking ahead at what could be. What this could mean for my life and my goals. Honestly, I've spent a lot of my time since making this decision in a pretty negative place, but that is all fear talking. Change is not easy. NY taught me that. It also taught me a lot about hope. I'm gonna let hope talk for a while.
And hey, LA may not be the master teacher that NYC has been, but everyone has something to teach, right?
And just to make the transition a little easier, MJ and I will be taking a 10 day roadtrip from NYC to LA, as a last hoorah, and fulfilling the dream of 'that trip' we always talked about taking together. It's going to be crazy fun, as long as we both make it out alive. (Just joking of course. Sort of.)
Yes, I'm scared. And I have the feeling that I will be looking back on these years with a lot of fondness and a little nausea for years to come.
But I'm also excited. And getting more excited every day.
Plus, you know, I can always move back ;-)
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Edging Out Your Competition
I'm thinking of a person. Well, a sort of person. You know this person. In fact, I'll bet you know quite a few of them. You may even have seen them today. Not in person, of course... that would be too risky.
But you did see (coughstalkcough) them on facebook.
"Who is this person??" you may ask. "How do you know about them? How did you know I look at (coughobsessovercough) their facebook photos?"
Oh, my child. I know. I know, because I know this person too. And I make the same mistake you do.
This person is the perfect person. They have a perfect face. They have a perfect body. They have perfectly cool pictures. They have a perfect balance of work and fun. They have a perfect life.
You compare yourself to them. And, without fail, you come up short.
Come on guys, I can't be the only person who does this. At first, it's innocent, just scanning the facebook feed. Then you see something, and go to a profile. You start clicking through pictures.
And the next thing you know, it's 30 minutes later, you have determined without a doubt that this person has the perfect (insert face, body, job, anything really), and that not only do you not have said perfect thing, but you never will, and whereas 30 minutes ago you were a perfectly normal and adequate human being, you are now an unworthy, inferior cockroach.
Ok, maybe it's not that dramatic. But you know what I mean.
Psychologists have a term for this phenomenon. They call it "shitty comparison shopping".
Ok, maybe they don't call it that. But you know what I mean. And it DOES happen. All the time.
To get all personal with this issue, I've recently started a new kind of workout with my trainer called CrossFit. Basically, you do 5 different exercises for 60 seconds each, doing as many reps as you can. You keep counting through all 5 exercises, and at the end you write your number down. You do this 3 times, and then try to up your number from session to session.
Sounds simple enough? Yeah, it sounds simple. To put it mildly, for someone who hates cardio and the gym in general, it's a fucking nightmare.
I know it's a good workout, and I know it will help my endurance and all that, but it's still a rough 15 minutes, and the only thing keeping me from ripping off the scrotum of anyone near me is my awesome trainer, who knows just when to encourage, give tough love, or tell a cheesy joke.
My number shot up since last week, so of course I should be proud of the work I'm doing. And I was even starting to feel sort of good about it... until the dreaded facebook shitty comparison shopping trap.
I've really been trying to improve myself lately, mostly having to do with my physical health. I don't feel good when I go to the gym; in fact it makes me angry and upset. Very often (most recently 2 nights ago) when I push myself hard, I start crying.
Yep. Fucking crying. Like a little girl.
But I go anyway. I don't get the endorphins, but I go anyway. And I've seen major changes in m body. Not to boast, but a lot of other people have too.
Every woman has a different body type. Mine is generally lean with curves, mostly on the lower half. Yes, I'm happy with it. I don't want to look like a stick, I like feeling feminine and my butt-aciousness is usually a big part of that.
But when you fall into the SCS trap, you will always find another person with a smaller waist, or bigger boobs, or nicer hair, or prettier eyes, or better skin, or or or or or...
(this can continue for a while)
And suddenly it doesn't matter that you looked in the mirror 5 minutes ago and were happy with what you saw. You feel like shit.
So, what have we learned here?
Comparing yourself to others is not a path to happiness. Some use it as motivation, I suppose, but it seems quite a lofty and unrealistic goal to become someone else.
Spoiler alert: It's never gonna happen.
If you're trying to get better, compare yourself to... yourself. When I noticed myself getting caught up in SCS, I looked at a picture on my camera taken about a year and a half ago:
This is me at around 160-165 lbs. Yes, I know it's a far cry from obesity, but I was not happy with it.
Now, having that picture in my head of... let's call her Past Rachel, I can now look at myself in the mirror and think "Damn. I kicked that girl's ass! I'm so much better looking than her!"
Better lighting and photo quality nonwithstanding, this is me clocking it at about 140 lbs.
I'd say Present Rachel wins this battle.
I'm making an effort to remind myself that the only person I should be comparing myself to is the me of yesterday. And if the me of today isn't winning, get up and do something about it.
You can only be the best version of YOU. Deep down, don't you want it that way?
But you did see (coughstalkcough) them on facebook.
"Who is this person??" you may ask. "How do you know about them? How did you know I look at (coughobsessovercough) their facebook photos?"
Oh, my child. I know. I know, because I know this person too. And I make the same mistake you do.
This person is the perfect person. They have a perfect face. They have a perfect body. They have perfectly cool pictures. They have a perfect balance of work and fun. They have a perfect life.
You compare yourself to them. And, without fail, you come up short.
Come on guys, I can't be the only person who does this. At first, it's innocent, just scanning the facebook feed. Then you see something, and go to a profile. You start clicking through pictures.
And the next thing you know, it's 30 minutes later, you have determined without a doubt that this person has the perfect (insert face, body, job, anything really), and that not only do you not have said perfect thing, but you never will, and whereas 30 minutes ago you were a perfectly normal and adequate human being, you are now an unworthy, inferior cockroach.
Ok, maybe it's not that dramatic. But you know what I mean.
Psychologists have a term for this phenomenon. They call it "shitty comparison shopping".
Ok, maybe they don't call it that. But you know what I mean. And it DOES happen. All the time.
To get all personal with this issue, I've recently started a new kind of workout with my trainer called CrossFit. Basically, you do 5 different exercises for 60 seconds each, doing as many reps as you can. You keep counting through all 5 exercises, and at the end you write your number down. You do this 3 times, and then try to up your number from session to session.
Sounds simple enough? Yeah, it sounds simple. To put it mildly, for someone who hates cardio and the gym in general, it's a fucking nightmare.
I know it's a good workout, and I know it will help my endurance and all that, but it's still a rough 15 minutes, and the only thing keeping me from ripping off the scrotum of anyone near me is my awesome trainer, who knows just when to encourage, give tough love, or tell a cheesy joke.
My number shot up since last week, so of course I should be proud of the work I'm doing. And I was even starting to feel sort of good about it... until the dreaded facebook shitty comparison shopping trap.
I've really been trying to improve myself lately, mostly having to do with my physical health. I don't feel good when I go to the gym; in fact it makes me angry and upset. Very often (most recently 2 nights ago) when I push myself hard, I start crying.
Yep. Fucking crying. Like a little girl.
But I go anyway. I don't get the endorphins, but I go anyway. And I've seen major changes in m body. Not to boast, but a lot of other people have too.
Every woman has a different body type. Mine is generally lean with curves, mostly on the lower half. Yes, I'm happy with it. I don't want to look like a stick, I like feeling feminine and my butt-aciousness is usually a big part of that.
But when you fall into the SCS trap, you will always find another person with a smaller waist, or bigger boobs, or nicer hair, or prettier eyes, or better skin, or or or or or...
(this can continue for a while)
And suddenly it doesn't matter that you looked in the mirror 5 minutes ago and were happy with what you saw. You feel like shit.
So, what have we learned here?
Comparing yourself to others is not a path to happiness. Some use it as motivation, I suppose, but it seems quite a lofty and unrealistic goal to become someone else.
Spoiler alert: It's never gonna happen.
If you're trying to get better, compare yourself to... yourself. When I noticed myself getting caught up in SCS, I looked at a picture on my camera taken about a year and a half ago:
This is me at around 160-165 lbs. Yes, I know it's a far cry from obesity, but I was not happy with it.
Now, having that picture in my head of... let's call her Past Rachel, I can now look at myself in the mirror and think "Damn. I kicked that girl's ass! I'm so much better looking than her!"
Better lighting and photo quality nonwithstanding, this is me clocking it at about 140 lbs.
I'd say Present Rachel wins this battle.
I'm making an effort to remind myself that the only person I should be comparing myself to is the me of yesterday. And if the me of today isn't winning, get up and do something about it.
You can only be the best version of YOU. Deep down, don't you want it that way?
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Servant of Too Many Masters
Well looky here, the holiday season rears its ugly head once more! It's that time of year when I can't decide whether Xmas music or Katy Perry is more irritating... and then I remember that every time I hear a classic Xmas song, a Jew somewhere makes money, and Katy Perry wins. It is indeed a wonderful life.
Anyone in the restaurant business (especially in NYC) can tell you that December is the biggest and busiest time of the year. People are visiting family, or taking a trip, or are too tired from a day of shopping to go home and cook. For those places that are open during the day, there is nothing people want to do more in the middle of a freezing day of shopping than sit down somewhere warm and have goodies served to them.
It's great in terms of money for those of us in the service industry, but sometimes in the hectic scramble to get everyone what they need, some weird stuff comes spazzing out, and some customers are not as forgiving as you'd think they would be.
Although I look forward to the time when I can drop it like a bad habit, being a server is a good day job for me personally. It has a flexible schedule, it lets me learn more about food and drinks, and I get to talk to people all day. My current job in particular is the best server position I've ever had, just because the people my company hires are all incredibly nice and willing to put up with and even laugh at my idiotic dances, dirty jokes, and constant singing to myself.
There are a lot of things you learn being a server. I am determined that, whether they like it or not, all my future children will work in a restaurant for at least a few months. They will learn to multitask, keep a cool head under pressure, and most importantly, they will NEVER EVER mistreat people in the service industry.
Whether in a restaurant, a hotel, or on the phone, this is a thankless and tiring profession, especially for employees paid in tips. At least with an hourly wage, you know you're getting paid to listen to people gripe. There's not a lot worse than trying to keep a happy face when you know that after spending 90 minutes trying to make a table happy, they gave you 3 bucks for your trouble because their water glasses were not refilled enough.
For those of you who have never had to work a job like this, let me give you a few pointers on how A: not to be an ungrateful, rude asshole to people who are trying to help you out and earn a living and B: not be served the oldie-but-goodie loogie/snot sandwich.
Rule #1: Answer the question your server asks you. I can't count how many times I have gone up to a table for the first time, asked "Hi, how are you today?" and had the response be "Um, we're not ready to order" or "I'll take a Diet Coke." As your server and an employee of my restaurant, I'm not only trying to stuff you with as much food as I can sell, but I'm trying to give you a positive overall experience. If I come to you inquiring about your personal well-being, and you immediately order me to get you something, this tells me you don't see me as a person, but as your personal robot servant. In other words, I already hate you.
Rule #2: READ THE MENU. I honestly can't stress this enough. Yes, I have a detailed knowledge of what we serve, but no, I can't recite every item for you because you are too lazy to run your eyes across a page. At my restaurant in particular, we have over 150 different teas. We have so many, in fact, that we have a specific and separate tea menu with descriptions of every one of them. Despite this, I continually have people ask me "So, what teas do you have?" This is my signal to treat you like you are 5 years old, take the tea menu, open it in front of you and explain that they are all listed right fucking there.
This also includes ordering things we don't have. Don't order a muffin or a bagel without looking to see if we have it, then get irritated with me because we can't snap our fingers and make it appear in the kitchen just for you.
Rule #3: If you need additional items with your meal ask for them all at the same time. Nothing wastes my time more than having to make 4 trips to and from the kitchen because you want ketchup, mustard, more napkins, butter, and another fork, but decide to tell them to me one at a time, after I fetch each thing for you. I'm not a dog, and this game is not fun for me.
Rule #4: I am NOT your babysitter. I understand that occasionally you have to let your small child go with you somewhere other than home or school, but that means they are YOUR responsibility. Make sure your child stays in their seat, or they will wander out on the floor and will be run over faster than a tortoise on the Indy 500 track. It is not my job to sheepdog your loud, sticky flock because YOU made the choice to bring them out.
Sidenote: Although I am not in a place to judge because I am not a parent, if it's just you and your kid having a meal, try to actually talk to them and not spend an hour looking at your phone and shoving a crayon or iphone in their face whenever they try to say something.
Rule #5: Most important rule of all. A verbal tip is in no way a replacement for a monetary tip. Yes, if you are nice to me, I like talking to you. I like knowing I gave you a great meal. But I'm not here to hang out. I'm at my job. And unfortunately, whether or not I can buy groceries depends on you showing your appreciation by tipping me. Many a time I have had everything go perfectly with a table and have even been told specifically that my service was exceptional. Then I go to look at the tip and it's somewhere around 10-15%, and I consider you a lying dirtbag. Nowadays, a tip for good service should be 20%, and if you leave less than that, that tells me I did a shitty job.
I get paid $5.00 an hour, and because of taxes, I usually don't see any of that money. I live off my tips. I am not a charity worker. I'm working for you. If you think I went above and beyond, then pay an above and beyond tip. It's really insane how just 5 extra dollars really makes a huge difference between a shitty tip and a great one, and if you can't afford that extra 5, don't fucking go out to eat.
In general, just be nice, and remember your manners. Please remember that not only are we serving you, but usually anywhere from 2 to 30 other people at the same time. We're honestly trying hard to make sure you have a good time, and just treating us like people and not slaves helps us keep a smile on our face, and may even get you a free dessert. Oh yeah baby, you know we can hook it up for you... if we choose to.
So, now you know how to be a great restaurant patron. And just in case you were starting to feel indignant that it's not always the customer's fault, I will send you off with the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in front of a table. Yes, sometimes the server makes a mistake. Lucky for you, it is often hilarious. At least it usually is with me...
I had drinks in my hand for 2 different tables that were right next to each other. At one table was a family of four, and at the second table were two people who were practicing their English conversation skills. One was a large Russian looking guy who had a pretty good handle on the language, and the other was a meek Asian woman who spoke somewhat correctly, if hesitantly.
As I was pouring drinks for the first table, from behind me I hear the conversation the second table is having. I hear the Russian guys say "Well, I've never heard the term date rape before."
I then turn around and begin pouring drinks for the second table. As I'm pouring, I see the woman struggle to organize her thoughts enough to give a definition, but she's having a hard time putting it together. Me being me (talkative, friendly, and having very few boundaries) I begin to cheerfully explain, and give a couple examples of, date rape.
Now, just to set the scene, I work in a restaurant that is styled after a popular children's book. There are fairy wings on the walls, and when you come in, if you enjoy this sort of thing, you can get glitter sprinkled on your head while you make a wish. This place is as far away from date rape-y as it gets.
After letting me go on for about a minute, the guy looks up at me and very slowly says "Well, ok, but I said date mate."
Moment of silence while I processed this...
To recap: I had just given a full, detailed explanation, within earshot of a 12 year old child, of what date rape is. For absolutely NO REASON.
But, at least there was a happy ending. The guy saw how embarrassed I was, and when the check came, gave me a 50% tip.
See folks? You can tip on entertainment value too.
Anyway, I hope everyone has a safe, easy, and happy holiday.
And please, say thank you. You're welcome.
Anyone in the restaurant business (especially in NYC) can tell you that December is the biggest and busiest time of the year. People are visiting family, or taking a trip, or are too tired from a day of shopping to go home and cook. For those places that are open during the day, there is nothing people want to do more in the middle of a freezing day of shopping than sit down somewhere warm and have goodies served to them.
It's great in terms of money for those of us in the service industry, but sometimes in the hectic scramble to get everyone what they need, some weird stuff comes spazzing out, and some customers are not as forgiving as you'd think they would be.
Although I look forward to the time when I can drop it like a bad habit, being a server is a good day job for me personally. It has a flexible schedule, it lets me learn more about food and drinks, and I get to talk to people all day. My current job in particular is the best server position I've ever had, just because the people my company hires are all incredibly nice and willing to put up with and even laugh at my idiotic dances, dirty jokes, and constant singing to myself.
There are a lot of things you learn being a server. I am determined that, whether they like it or not, all my future children will work in a restaurant for at least a few months. They will learn to multitask, keep a cool head under pressure, and most importantly, they will NEVER EVER mistreat people in the service industry.
Whether in a restaurant, a hotel, or on the phone, this is a thankless and tiring profession, especially for employees paid in tips. At least with an hourly wage, you know you're getting paid to listen to people gripe. There's not a lot worse than trying to keep a happy face when you know that after spending 90 minutes trying to make a table happy, they gave you 3 bucks for your trouble because their water glasses were not refilled enough.
For those of you who have never had to work a job like this, let me give you a few pointers on how A: not to be an ungrateful, rude asshole to people who are trying to help you out and earn a living and B: not be served the oldie-but-goodie loogie/snot sandwich.
Rule #1: Answer the question your server asks you. I can't count how many times I have gone up to a table for the first time, asked "Hi, how are you today?" and had the response be "Um, we're not ready to order" or "I'll take a Diet Coke." As your server and an employee of my restaurant, I'm not only trying to stuff you with as much food as I can sell, but I'm trying to give you a positive overall experience. If I come to you inquiring about your personal well-being, and you immediately order me to get you something, this tells me you don't see me as a person, but as your personal robot servant. In other words, I already hate you.
Rule #2: READ THE MENU. I honestly can't stress this enough. Yes, I have a detailed knowledge of what we serve, but no, I can't recite every item for you because you are too lazy to run your eyes across a page. At my restaurant in particular, we have over 150 different teas. We have so many, in fact, that we have a specific and separate tea menu with descriptions of every one of them. Despite this, I continually have people ask me "So, what teas do you have?" This is my signal to treat you like you are 5 years old, take the tea menu, open it in front of you and explain that they are all listed right fucking there.
This also includes ordering things we don't have. Don't order a muffin or a bagel without looking to see if we have it, then get irritated with me because we can't snap our fingers and make it appear in the kitchen just for you.
Rule #3: If you need additional items with your meal ask for them all at the same time. Nothing wastes my time more than having to make 4 trips to and from the kitchen because you want ketchup, mustard, more napkins, butter, and another fork, but decide to tell them to me one at a time, after I fetch each thing for you. I'm not a dog, and this game is not fun for me.
Rule #4: I am NOT your babysitter. I understand that occasionally you have to let your small child go with you somewhere other than home or school, but that means they are YOUR responsibility. Make sure your child stays in their seat, or they will wander out on the floor and will be run over faster than a tortoise on the Indy 500 track. It is not my job to sheepdog your loud, sticky flock because YOU made the choice to bring them out.
Sidenote: Although I am not in a place to judge because I am not a parent, if it's just you and your kid having a meal, try to actually talk to them and not spend an hour looking at your phone and shoving a crayon or iphone in their face whenever they try to say something.
Rule #5: Most important rule of all. A verbal tip is in no way a replacement for a monetary tip. Yes, if you are nice to me, I like talking to you. I like knowing I gave you a great meal. But I'm not here to hang out. I'm at my job. And unfortunately, whether or not I can buy groceries depends on you showing your appreciation by tipping me. Many a time I have had everything go perfectly with a table and have even been told specifically that my service was exceptional. Then I go to look at the tip and it's somewhere around 10-15%, and I consider you a lying dirtbag. Nowadays, a tip for good service should be 20%, and if you leave less than that, that tells me I did a shitty job.
I get paid $5.00 an hour, and because of taxes, I usually don't see any of that money. I live off my tips. I am not a charity worker. I'm working for you. If you think I went above and beyond, then pay an above and beyond tip. It's really insane how just 5 extra dollars really makes a huge difference between a shitty tip and a great one, and if you can't afford that extra 5, don't fucking go out to eat.
In general, just be nice, and remember your manners. Please remember that not only are we serving you, but usually anywhere from 2 to 30 other people at the same time. We're honestly trying hard to make sure you have a good time, and just treating us like people and not slaves helps us keep a smile on our face, and may even get you a free dessert. Oh yeah baby, you know we can hook it up for you... if we choose to.
So, now you know how to be a great restaurant patron. And just in case you were starting to feel indignant that it's not always the customer's fault, I will send you off with the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in front of a table. Yes, sometimes the server makes a mistake. Lucky for you, it is often hilarious. At least it usually is with me...
I had drinks in my hand for 2 different tables that were right next to each other. At one table was a family of four, and at the second table were two people who were practicing their English conversation skills. One was a large Russian looking guy who had a pretty good handle on the language, and the other was a meek Asian woman who spoke somewhat correctly, if hesitantly.
As I was pouring drinks for the first table, from behind me I hear the conversation the second table is having. I hear the Russian guys say "Well, I've never heard the term date rape before."
I then turn around and begin pouring drinks for the second table. As I'm pouring, I see the woman struggle to organize her thoughts enough to give a definition, but she's having a hard time putting it together. Me being me (talkative, friendly, and having very few boundaries) I begin to cheerfully explain, and give a couple examples of, date rape.
Now, just to set the scene, I work in a restaurant that is styled after a popular children's book. There are fairy wings on the walls, and when you come in, if you enjoy this sort of thing, you can get glitter sprinkled on your head while you make a wish. This place is as far away from date rape-y as it gets.
After letting me go on for about a minute, the guy looks up at me and very slowly says "Well, ok, but I said date mate."
Moment of silence while I processed this...
To recap: I had just given a full, detailed explanation, within earshot of a 12 year old child, of what date rape is. For absolutely NO REASON.
But, at least there was a happy ending. The guy saw how embarrassed I was, and when the check came, gave me a 50% tip.
See folks? You can tip on entertainment value too.
Anyway, I hope everyone has a safe, easy, and happy holiday.
And please, say thank you. You're welcome.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back
I know my last post was about something really nice and good. And something really nice and good did happen, and it still means a lot.
But at a price, apparently.
Bad things come in 3s. I know this. I mean, as a Jew, I should already know that bad things are just going to happen regardless of anything we do to try and stop them. Such is life (sigh).
But it seems sometimes that when shit goes down in my life, it always is right on the heels of something good. Like, I'm only allowed a certain amount of enjoyment from the good things until the shitstorm starts and I have to dive for cover.
I know, I know, privileged little white girl whining alert. Just give me a second, I have real problems too, you know.
I was in the hospital Friday night. Because I was in massive pain. Wait, backtrack, because I had been alone in my apartment with massive pain all day until boy came to my rescue and whisked me off the the ER. A little morphine, a CAT scan, and 8 hours later, back to my place to wallow and sleep it off.
When I called my mom Saturday to tell her what happened, she informed me that my grandfather (not the one who had the stroke, the other one) has stopped eating and is not expected to make it to Thanksgiving. I realize this is not a bad thing happening specifically to me, and I can't imagine the pain my grandmother is going through, but I do love my grandfather and I have never lost a grandparent before. I knew it was only a matter of time, (like everything else) but I still thought I would get to see him one more time. It turns out this is now not the case.
And just to put a capper on the weekend, boy and I decided not to talk for a week.
Only a week ago I was thrilled to have done some meaningful work and gotten amazing feedback. One week. And now it seems like everything is backwards.
Is it my fault? Is it karma? Maybe I don't deserve to be happy for too long. Or at least someone up there seems to think so.
It sort of leaves me thinking... What did I do wrong?
But at a price, apparently.
Bad things come in 3s. I know this. I mean, as a Jew, I should already know that bad things are just going to happen regardless of anything we do to try and stop them. Such is life (sigh).
But it seems sometimes that when shit goes down in my life, it always is right on the heels of something good. Like, I'm only allowed a certain amount of enjoyment from the good things until the shitstorm starts and I have to dive for cover.
I know, I know, privileged little white girl whining alert. Just give me a second, I have real problems too, you know.
I was in the hospital Friday night. Because I was in massive pain. Wait, backtrack, because I had been alone in my apartment with massive pain all day until boy came to my rescue and whisked me off the the ER. A little morphine, a CAT scan, and 8 hours later, back to my place to wallow and sleep it off.
When I called my mom Saturday to tell her what happened, she informed me that my grandfather (not the one who had the stroke, the other one) has stopped eating and is not expected to make it to Thanksgiving. I realize this is not a bad thing happening specifically to me, and I can't imagine the pain my grandmother is going through, but I do love my grandfather and I have never lost a grandparent before. I knew it was only a matter of time, (like everything else) but I still thought I would get to see him one more time. It turns out this is now not the case.
And just to put a capper on the weekend, boy and I decided not to talk for a week.
Only a week ago I was thrilled to have done some meaningful work and gotten amazing feedback. One week. And now it seems like everything is backwards.
Is it my fault? Is it karma? Maybe I don't deserve to be happy for too long. Or at least someone up there seems to think so.
It sort of leaves me thinking... What did I do wrong?
Friday, November 4, 2011
Just Called to Say
I did it again, didn't I? I neglected my faithful readers and the devastation is... it's just...
"Everyone watch out, Rachel needs some attention and is being dramatic!" - my darling sister
This entry is going to be a little different than the usual tone of my blog. I don't really have a problem I need to sort out (at least nothing that I feel comfortable writing about on here), or a specific point I want to allude to, segue from, then drive home with witty nonsense.
Simply, something really nice happened. And I'd like to write about it, so I can always remember it.
I recently was cast in and finished shooting my first (!) feature film. Due to real and imagined legal reasons, I can't give specific details, but no worries fair readers, as soon as I am able to, I will be selling the hell out of it.
Especially since the director promised me one of those "and introducing..." credits. I always wanted one of those!
Anyway, back to my non-point, I spent a couple weeks filming with a great crew, a smart and communicative director, and my best friend. The fact that I spent Tuesday mostly naked surrounded by men in front of a camera is just another feather in the hat of 'is this really my life?'.
And before you ask, no. It was NOT a porno. If it was porn, I would have gotten paid. True story.
Most of my scenes involved little to no dialogue, but lots of emotion and intensity. Fortunately, the only character I had any scenes with was played by my bestie MJ.
We have a long history, MJ and I. Besides the many adventures of our colorful friendship, we have done many many scenes together, and maybe because we click so well as friends we click amazingly well onstage and screen. We trust each other, and are not intimidated by the others talent. Sort of a dream team, if you will.
While filming, I had that great sense of being lost in a scene. Granted, MJ does not like to stick to scripts, so I had to constantly be on my toes, but it was exhilarating. Truly, when I'm working on a great quality project, there is nothing else I'd rather be doing.
But what you feel is not always what comes across, especially on camera. That little lens captures every detail of your face, and something as small as the tilt of your head can convey and entirely different mood than you intended. Well hey, I figured, if it wasn't what he wanted, the director would have us fix it. You just have to trust.
So come the day after filming, I get a call from my director while at work. I can't pick up right away, but the first chance I get I sneak away to listen to the voice mail he left me.
And within minutes, my day was made.
He had been looking at my scenes in post, and felt the need to call and tell me that... he loved my work. Apparently for each scene I had not only done exactly what he wanted, but had far exceeded his expectations. He then went on to encourage me to never ever give up acting, that I was very talented and that he thought I would go very far.
Give that a second to sink in. Wow.
And that was it. No other reason for the call.
Now, this did not surprise my mother, but it shocked the hell out of me. It's been so long since someone has professionally encouraged me. Someone I have no personal attachment to, who has nothing to gain from flattery. I'm not saying I'm not grateful for the support of family, friends, and boy (in fact I couldn't keep going without them), but this is coming from an entirely different source.
And man, it feels great.
I guess that's what keeps us actors going. For 99% of us, being an actor is a shit life. Unemployment, rejection, frustration, lack of inspiration threaten us every day. Sometimes we can get to wondering why we try over and over again.
But when a moment like that comes, we learn why all over again.
"Everyone watch out, Rachel needs some attention and is being dramatic!" - my darling sister
This entry is going to be a little different than the usual tone of my blog. I don't really have a problem I need to sort out (at least nothing that I feel comfortable writing about on here), or a specific point I want to allude to, segue from, then drive home with witty nonsense.
Simply, something really nice happened. And I'd like to write about it, so I can always remember it.
I recently was cast in and finished shooting my first (!) feature film. Due to real and imagined legal reasons, I can't give specific details, but no worries fair readers, as soon as I am able to, I will be selling the hell out of it.
Especially since the director promised me one of those "and introducing..." credits. I always wanted one of those!
Anyway, back to my non-point, I spent a couple weeks filming with a great crew, a smart and communicative director, and my best friend. The fact that I spent Tuesday mostly naked surrounded by men in front of a camera is just another feather in the hat of 'is this really my life?'.
And before you ask, no. It was NOT a porno. If it was porn, I would have gotten paid. True story.
Most of my scenes involved little to no dialogue, but lots of emotion and intensity. Fortunately, the only character I had any scenes with was played by my bestie MJ.
We have a long history, MJ and I. Besides the many adventures of our colorful friendship, we have done many many scenes together, and maybe because we click so well as friends we click amazingly well onstage and screen. We trust each other, and are not intimidated by the others talent. Sort of a dream team, if you will.
While filming, I had that great sense of being lost in a scene. Granted, MJ does not like to stick to scripts, so I had to constantly be on my toes, but it was exhilarating. Truly, when I'm working on a great quality project, there is nothing else I'd rather be doing.
But what you feel is not always what comes across, especially on camera. That little lens captures every detail of your face, and something as small as the tilt of your head can convey and entirely different mood than you intended. Well hey, I figured, if it wasn't what he wanted, the director would have us fix it. You just have to trust.
So come the day after filming, I get a call from my director while at work. I can't pick up right away, but the first chance I get I sneak away to listen to the voice mail he left me.
And within minutes, my day was made.
He had been looking at my scenes in post, and felt the need to call and tell me that... he loved my work. Apparently for each scene I had not only done exactly what he wanted, but had far exceeded his expectations. He then went on to encourage me to never ever give up acting, that I was very talented and that he thought I would go very far.
Give that a second to sink in. Wow.
And that was it. No other reason for the call.
Now, this did not surprise my mother, but it shocked the hell out of me. It's been so long since someone has professionally encouraged me. Someone I have no personal attachment to, who has nothing to gain from flattery. I'm not saying I'm not grateful for the support of family, friends, and boy (in fact I couldn't keep going without them), but this is coming from an entirely different source.
And man, it feels great.
I guess that's what keeps us actors going. For 99% of us, being an actor is a shit life. Unemployment, rejection, frustration, lack of inspiration threaten us every day. Sometimes we can get to wondering why we try over and over again.
But when a moment like that comes, we learn why all over again.
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