VA Review: Rembrandt 2 Hour Whitening Kit

Back in high school, I remember looking at photos of myself and seeing nothing but disgusting, yellow teeth. So, I drove myself up to the WalMart in Burlington and bought Crest Whitestrips. At the time, they had just come out and were quite expensive (over 50 dollars!) but I decided that my quest for whiter teeth was worth a few hours at the pool. This was also back when the whitestrips took two weeks. But, the results were astounding.

For reference, before I started a yearly teeth whitening ritual, here's a throw-back photo of my yellowness.

Holy youngin', Batman!

(Note: Not only was this before I discovered tooth-safe-bleach, it was apparently also before I discovered tweezers... and why was I blonde?!)

I remember feeling amazing after whitening. I could smile without feeling self-consious. It was amazing. So, when I checked myself out in the mirror the other day, I was sad to notice a slight yellowing in my teeth. I marched right over to Duane Reade (the NYC drug store for you out-of-town readers) to browse the tooth-whitening aisle. Because of my impatience, I decided against getting the normal 7-day treatment and went for the quick fix. The Rembrandt 2 Hour Whitening kit. 2 hours? Fantastic! I'll have white teeth before dinner! And, at a price of $25.00 I figured I had struck gold.

So, I went home, busted out the kit, and got to work.

The kit contains 2 plastic teeth covers (they really resemble the mouth guards used in sports) that are easily pliable. The instructions indicated to dip each tray in a glass of hot water, melt them a bit, and press them onto your teeth, holding them there to create a personalized mold. Clever, Rembrandt, clever! Once I had made both molds, I started on the first treatment.

There are 4 rounds. You are to put the whitening gel in the mold, pop the molds on your teeth and wait 20 minutes. After 20 minutes, take the molds out, rinse the trays and your mouth with water and wait 10 minutes. Repeat until all gel is gone - approximately 2 hours.

While the timing wasn't an issue (hey, you just watch tv!) the tooth sensitivity I had after the 2nd treatment was astounding. Even still, I kept going, putting the 3rd tray full of bleach in my mouth, ignoring the pain and continuing on my path to whiteness. Pain is beauty, right?

By the 4th and final treatment, tears were running down my face as the nerves in my teeth shot pain back into my skull. Almost done, almost done, I waited that agonizing final 20 minutes, I could only think of how amazing it would feel to brush the painful gel off of my teeth. When the buzzer sounded, I rushed to the bathroom, spit out the molds and just held my mouth under the faucet. After rinsing and brushing, the pain subsided and I was very pleased with the results. My teeth were definitely whiter, my smile brighter. It worked! The pain was worth it... for a few hours.

I woke up around 4:00 that morning, a strange feeling in my mouth. I figured there was a bit of swelling because of the treatment, but was certain it would go down by morning. I was wrong. I woke up, groggily sauntered into the bathroom, and when splashing water on my face to do my morning wash, I looked up at the mirror and was horrified with what I saw. My lips were so swollen, it looked like I had gotten collagen injections from the back of a van in the East Village! I couldn't even put my lips together because my gums were so inflamed.

I had 4 days of miserable pain and swelling, with giant ulcers all along my gum line. Sure, my teeth were beautifully white, but it didn't matter because I couldn't even smile! Though, I didn't really feel like smiling because I couldn't eat or drink anything without a straw, and using a straw was basically impossible because I couldn't fully close my lips. I was a hungry, miserable person for days.

So, rating for Rembrandt's 2 Hour Whitening Kit: 2

The only reason the rating is so high is because the kit did what it promised to do: whiten teeth. Other than that, I will never EVER use it again. It wasn't worth the pain.

My advice, don't use it! Sure, whiten your teeth (and I still intend on keeping up my white smile) but don't go for the quick-fix. Spread your whitening out over a few days. Your mouth (and stomach) will thank you for it!

Oh, and just to juxtapose, here's a photo, taken today. My teeth do seem pretty white ;)

Trying to heal...

Exactly two months ago, my grandfather drew in his final breaths as my family members looked on, held hands, and cried. I wasn't there.

I haven't dealt with it. Losing him. In fact, I don't think I have said aloud "My grandfather died." I realized lately that I'm very hypocritical. I talk all the time about how it's best to face your problems, deal with them, and put them behind you. But, here I am, avoiding it all. I haven't dealt with and accepted his death. And, it makes sense, psychologically. I haven't had to deal with it. I stayed away, I didn't talk to my family members, I didn't talk about it at all. When I don't talk about it or think about it, it doesn't hurt as much. But, I know that if I don't try, if I don't start on a path to acceptance, I'll never be able to be myself again.

Have you ever had to say goodbye to someone you know you'd never see again? It ranks up there with the top 3 hardest things I've ever had to do. On Labor Day weekend, I went to North Carolina to celebrate my grandfather's 80th birthday. And, before having to rush to the airport, I had to tell my grandfather goodbye knowing that he wouldn't be alive the next time I came into town. I knew all weekend that I would have to say my final words to him and I spent many hours thinking of the perfect thing to say, but when the time came, I failed. I could hardly say anything. I did manage to take his hand and choke out, "Goodbye, Pop. I love you." To which he replied, "Love ya, girlie. Let us know when you get back in the city. Be safe, gal."

There hasn't been a single day since then that I haven't regretted not being able to tell him how much I love him. I should have spent more time with him that weekend. I should have asked my family to give us some time alone so that I could tell him everything, but 5 words was all I could do. How is it possible that when it really counted, I could only come up with 5 words?! Normally, all I have is words. I'm ashamed.

So, I have decided that the thing I really need is to get out those words that are inside of me. Like I had done before, I am going to write a letter. Here is an open letter to my grandfather: the greatest man I will ever know. (Editing note: It took me 7 hours, 1 roll of toilet paper, 1 glass of wine, and 6 glasses of water to write this letter.)

Pop,

I miss you. I miss you every single day. And I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you what I was feeling when we were together last. But, I hope throughout the years, I told you enough that I love you. I hope that you always knew how much I respected you, how much I valued your opinion and how much I really needed and relied on your wisdom. I hope you know that I wasn't lying when I told you that I enjoyed spending hours at your house even if it was just sitting and watching tv with you.

And, I'm sorry - I'm sorry for all the times I didn't call, for the times I said I'd stop by and I never made it. I'm sorry for not being there with you in this past year, especially toward the end. For that, I'm eternally sorry.

I need you now. I need your advice, I need your encouragement. I feel so lost and I need you to tell me what to do.. or I at least need you to tell me that it's okay for me to not know what to do. The world, my world, feels empty without you here.

I can't hear you like I can hear others I've lost. I constantly hear my Dinnie's voice in my head every time I go outside with wet hair. "Dry your hair," she'd say. "You'll catch your death-a-cold going out with your hair soakin' wet." But, I can't hear you. Why can't I hear you?

I want to be like you. To be wise and successful and hard-working. I want to value fairness as you always had. I want to have your amazing ability to stand up for what is good and right and to expect to be treated with respect. You make me want to be the best. You cared for people; you genuinely cared. And not even people you knew, you cared and respected everyone you ever came across. You thought the same of the man who empties the trash as you did the CEO of that same company. To you, hard working people were all the same. No matter what job they had.

I'm angry. I hate that you're gone. I hate that you had to be taken away from me, from us. And I hate me for feeling sorry for myself. I'm selfish, I know, but I guess I just don't understand. Why? Why couldn't God, the fates, the pull of the universe, or whatever determines what happens just leave us alone for a while? Why you? Why now?

I know your body had failed you. I can't imagine the insurmountable amount of pain you must have been in. You were strong, unbelievably strong. And I, weak.. embarrassingly weak. Even now, I am feeling stupid and powerless because I'm having such a hard time letting you go. Everyone keeps telling me that you're not really gone, that you're always with me. But I can't feel you, I feel nothing, I'm alone.

I learned so much from you.

I thank you for being such an amazing individual. You were wonderful. You taught us all how to love, how to keep your heart open but when to know to close it. You taught us see the difference and know when to walk away and when to keep trying. You're an inspiration. And, if you're out there, in spirit or heart, maybe you can hear my thoughts or are looking down on me. If you are, please reach out to me, because I need you now. I need to feel you, I need to have you in my life. I'm trying to make my life right again and I need you to somehow be in that life again. I know I can't completely let you go.

I know this is probably mostly incoherent and incongruent and just a messy, messy set of words, but it feels nice to finally "pour my heart out" (if you'll allow the bad expression).

I love you, I miss you, we all do. I hope you knew how amazing you were.

Always,

V

VA Review: Bumble and Bumble Salon, NYC

So, I'm starting a new section of the blog: VA Review. Here, I will review products, restaurants, other consumer places, etc. to give people (you, readers) my first-hand experience.

First up, The Uptown Manhattan Bumble and Bumble Salon.

Bumble and Bumble

146 E. 56th St.

(Bet. 3rd and Lex)

New York, NY

Confession: I hadn't had my hair cut in 18 months. So, I finally decided that the dead, splitting ends look wasn't exactly the best for me. Finding a salon in New York City is almost as difficult as finding a job. There are millions, one on every street. But, how do you know if the salon is any good? Did their stylists actually go to school? I started trying to talk to people, get some word-of-mouth recommendations, but didn't really hear anyone really rave about a particular place. So, while walking one day, I passed by a Bumble and Bumble pop-up shop and thought, "hmm. I should make an appointment with them." I figured that Bumble and Bumble products are well respected in the hair-world and after doing some research, I made myself an appointment. I found out that Bumble and Bumble employees are required to have at least 12 years of experience before coming in as a Junior Stylist. I know in NC there was no such thing as a junior or senior stylist, but that's the trend in NYC. Price lists are made based on what level the stylist is. I went with a Junior Stylist. 12 years is enough for me. :)

I have to say, I am immensely pleased with what I found at B&B. The salon is tucked into a cute NYC brownstone with windows all across the front, allowing lots of natural light to enter the lobby area. I was greeted immediately and was taken to the back, where my coat and scarf was taken and hung up. I was given a black silk robe and told to have a seat in the cafe. The cafe, a full service "restaurant", featured complimentary water, sodas, tea, coffee, lattes, and small snacks. It was stacked with magazines and books, a very friendly atmosphere.

After a hair consultation with my stylist, Katrina, I was taken to the back again to have my hair washed by a woman named Yolanda. I was surprised to find the chair reclined completely back (with your head in the sink), lifting your feet off the floor, and to my surprise, massaged my back. I had my hair washed, conditioned, my neck and shoulders massaged, all while Yolanda took extra care to protect my dress and keep my face and neck dry. Very impressed.

Back with Katrina, we talked about wanting my hair to look healthy (translation: cut off the dead) while keeping it long. For those of you who've had long hair, you know that there are essentially 3 options for "changing up" long hair. 1. Bangs, 2. Blunt-cut trim, or 3. Long layers, frame the face. Katrina and I decided that #3 would be best since I've started getting a bit of wave in my hair, the layers would allow the natural wave/curl to come out.

Overall, I was extremely pleased with the experience. There was only one thing that I didn't really like; my stylist hardly spoke to me. Granted, I'd much rather someone focus on what they're doing instead of making sure to be chatty, but a little bit of conversation would have made things a little less uncomfortable.

VA Rating: 8

The rating isn't a 9 or 10 because I was just a little bit uncomfortable while my hair was being cut/styled (maybe because she looked a little uncomfortable while I was "watching her") and because of the price. With the wash, cut, blow dry, 2 styling products, and tip, I ended up throwing down $160. While I understand NYC is a bit pricey when it comes to salons and styling, I feel that it was a little bit on the expensive side for an appointment that didn't include coloring or other professional services.

But, I am pleased with how my hair turned out. It looks healthy, has lots of body, and is incredibly soft. I can't wait to play with some new looks. Have a look-see, what do you think? It's hard to believe that I had almost 4 inches cut off the bottom!

Dating Virginia: Don't Fall In Love With Me

I wish I didn't have this problem. Not that it is such a horrible thing, but it is certainly obnoxious. For the third time, I went on a first date and had the guy fall head-over-heels for me. Yes, my friends, I got a marriage proposal (hypothetical, of course, there was no ring involved) Ring or not, the dude said he liked me so much that he wanted to marry me after one date. ONE DATE!

I should be flattered, right? Well, I don't find it flattering, I find it terrifying. Why in the world would anyone leave a first date thinking that it was going to immediately go into a full-blown relationship? I mean, I use these first dates to really test compatibility and figure out if we can stand to be around each other. Are guys these days using first dates as a bridge to immediate marriage?!

I had 3 dates this week. The first brought me stinky stinky lilies, ordered my food for me, and read my palm during our meal. He's pushing hard for a second date and called me "my love". I'm busy.

The second, a spur of the moment date, he was touchy-feely, a bit clingy, but the conversation was good. 2 days later, he loves me, wants to marry me. I actually decided to tell him that I wasn't interested instead of just ignoring him and we had a stupid conversation that lasted over 30 minutes. It felt like I was back in high school. He said that I broke his heart, that he really wanted to be with me, that I was a stupid whore who led him on. Lame.

Date #3 wasn't nearly as bad. We had a nice conversation over coffee, ended with a hug. Nothing really to report there.

I think I'm going to take a break from dating for a bit. It's really getting overwhelming. Seriously, if I put the amount of effort I use to meet guys into trying to find a job, I'd probably be employed right now. So, no new dates until after Thanksgiving. I'll allow myself to go out with people I already know or have already met, but no new prospects. We'll see how it goes.

I think the biggest issue is that I'm not communicating enough with these guys before deciding to meet them. So, maybe I'll start talking to guys now, and then after Thanksgiving, decide to meet them. Your thoughts?

I am in the dark place.

Dating Virginia: What are you looking for?

"So, what are you looking for?"

There are many questions that I cannot stand to be asked from potential suitors. "What are you looking for?" is at the top. I guess the biggest problem with this question is there is no easy answer. I understand the answers that people are looking for... you know, casual dating, a long term relationship, a friend, a sex partner, a husband, whatever.

Here's the issue I have: I just don't know. Do I want to get married someday? Sure! But, I'm not exactly looking for a husband right now, ya know? But, if that man happened to come into my life tomorrow, I don't think I would deny myself (or him) the opportunity to make a relationship happen. That being said, anyone that comes out saying "I'm looking for my future wife", I'm going to run in the opposite direction.

I mean, each person that comes into your life ultimately has a purpose, but if you begin by defining each person by a specific "job", then you will only wind up disappointed.

So, the answer. Here's what I'm looking for: I am looking for someone who will love me and respect me exactly as I am. Whether that person is a friend or a lover or a husband. Isn't that the same for us all? To be liked for who you are? Not as you were or for what you could be. Not smarter, or thinner, or with a smaller nose. Not taller, or shorter, with longer hair, and a less crazy family. Someone who bring mutual respect into a relationship (whatever space that relationship falls)

So there's the simple answer to a complicated question. I want to be liked just the way I am. Because, I'm pretty sure I'll always be just a little bit fat.

Fury and Irony

I was laid off.

Tuesday afternoon, I was 'let go' from my job. I can't even begin to explain the amount of anger and embarrassment I am feeling right now. Especially because the reason I was given for my dismissal was complete and utter fiction.

I know most of you, dear readers, don't know the details of my job, but I'm angry and need to get this out. I was told that my dismissal had everything to do with "performance and lateness".

Let's break it down. Performance: In the world of sales, I understand that numbers are a big determining factor in job performance. Now, I would be perfectly understanding if I had been slacking in my sales figures, but that wasn't the case. I was the top booker in my training class and had booked more than another person on my team (who, strangely, still has his job).

Second, Lateness: We were all told on day 1 of training that lateness would not be acceptable in this profession. While I have had issues in the past with being late (I don't doubt that) I had only been late ONE time to this job. The one time, happened to be on the day I was let go. But, I followed proper protocol, letting my manager know well in advance that I would be a few minutes late. Siting lateness as a reason for my dismissal is bullshit.

While I'm feeling lost and alone, I am mostly hurt and offended by those who I respected. I have lost respect for my manager - after he sat there and lied to me. It's unprofessional and unacceptable. I was let go because I had information about past publications that could have jeopardized the credibility of BTQ. I knew too much.

Will I do anything with the information? I haven't decided yet. But I am furious right now. I am hurt because I wasn't respected enough to be told the truth. I was discarded like a filthy piece of trash and it's not okay.

___________________________________________

While I feel like my life is in pieces (again), something ironic did happen today. Last week, I made my first truly selfish purchase. I had saved some of my commission money and decided to buy myself a piece of jewelry. But, the events of this week made me forget all about it. So, today, when a tiny box appeared on my doorstep from San Francisco, I was truly excited. I didn't realize how appropriate this piece of jewelry would be, but it's perfect.

A ring. A small ring, with a tiny gold wire band and a brushed silver oval top. Sounds simple, but what makes this ring truly wonderful are the tiny words etched on the top.

the journey is the reward

I will now have a daily reminder to not worry about what will happen in the future. But to constantly live in the present. The journey, not the destination, is the reward.

The photo (from the jeweler's website) doesn't do the ring justice. It's really small and dainty, the words almost hardly visible - certainly not something that could be seen from far away.

Funny how things happen, huh?

If you'd like to look at some of Jeanine Payer's jewelry (I love every piece!) visit her website HERE

Happy Anniversary, New York!

Yes, friends, New York and I have been together for 1 whole year. It's really unbelievable to me that an entire year has passed. But, I guess when you break it down, really think about it, a lot happened in this one year. I know it's trite to say, but I have really grown up in this year. I understand how difficult it can be to manage your own finances. I know now how important it is to take care of yourself mentally, physically, and emotionally. And I know how important it is to keep those that love you (and that you love) close to you (even when you're far away).

I spent last weekend in DC with my bestest friends and I realized that the only real reason I don't like living in New York is because I can't see them more often. It was ironic though... Sunday afternoon, I rode the bus from DC back to NYC - taking the exact same roads I had taken 1 year prior in a moving truck with my father. Seeing the New York City skyline in the distance reminded me of the mix of nervousness and excitement I had on that Saturday morning.

There were many times throughout this past year that I thought I couldn't handle New York anymore. There were times I seriously considered packing whatever I could in a suitcase and moving home. I don't know how many times I called home in tears, the pressure was just too much. But, I stuck it out and I am so happy I did. I am in a new apartment, with a new job - it almost feels like everything that was wrong with my life last year has faded away. Amazing.

I'm filled with excitement thinking about all there is to come in this next year. The fear and nervous anticipation has been replaced with optimism - there's nothing that can hit me this year that I can't get through. So, bring it on, New York! Give me all you got - I'm ready!

1929-2009

I'm sitting out on the balcony of my new apartment. Just finished dinner, and I'm enjoying the street-symphony below. Normally, people would associate honking horns, revving engines, and sirens as something obnoxious... an annoyance of life. But, tonight, I'm feeling differently about it. Even though my head is spinning with thoughts, my heart is heavy with emotions, and my body feels like quitting, the sounds of the night are a comforting reminder that the city keeps on going. Nothing stops New York. Life keeps on going, the world keeps turning. Good or bad, it goes on.

I am having to remind myself every single day (sometimes multiple times a day) that time will heal all wounds. That the pain and sadness of my grandfather's passing will lessen; that the stresses of my job will cease; that my father's cancer will remiss; that I will eventually fall asleep at night without worrying how I will afford to eat the following week...

But, I know that as life goes on, stresses fade, and new stresses arrive. It's a never-ending cycle. Just a thing we all have to accept, I guess.

I don't think I have fully accepted the fact that my grandfather is gone. Even now, I have a problem, a question, or even something exciting to tell, I want to call him. Tonight, I actually called his cell phone, it wasn't until I heard the voicemail that I remembered. The phone dropped from my hand, and I had to eventually had to pick myself up off the floor after I collapsed into a sobbing mess.

He was my rock, my mentor, and one of my best friends. Not having him here anymore is one of the most painful feelings I have ever had. My body literally hurts when I think about how I will never see him again.

Though time will eventually lessen the pain, there will never be a time in which I will not miss him.

In this life...

I know I barely updated in August - I apologize for that. But once things start spinning out of control, it's hard enough for me to grasp what is going on in my own life. Having to organize my thoughts into a succinct blog post was near impossible. But, I'm trying now.

I am home. I came into NC for the Labor Day weekend. Though I might have come in to town anyway (because of the extended weekend), I had special reason to be here. Yesterday, my grandfather celebrated his 80th birthday. When I booked my flight in July, the mood for the weekend was of a celebratory nature. A monumental party was being planned and everyone was to attend. However, this weekend has ended up being an overwhelming mix of emotions; happiness, sadness, heart-wrenching longing, empathy, sympathy, and so much more.

My grandfather is dying.

Though I really feel that I would rather him pass on than to suffer, I am selfish. I do not want to lose him. I do not want live in a world where he does not exist. I guess for some it's better to know it is coming instead of being shocked and bewildered by a sudden death, but to know it is inevitable is just as hard as I imagine losing him will be.

Does knowing something is coming make it any easier to handle?

I've spent a lot of time in the hospital this holiday weekend. My father was diagnosed with MRSA and had to be quarantined in the infectious disease unit. Essentially, his body has no ability to fight any sort of infection because of the Leukemia. So, visiting my father in isolation, and seeing my grandfather (lucky they were just down the hall from each other, right?) has essentially been my weekend.

I feel that I am a relatively strong person (most of the time) but I am having a very difficult time dealing with this upcoming loss. Though there is obviously a grandfather/granddaughter relationship there, I also consider him to be one of my closest friends. When he goes, a piece of myself will be gone forever.

As I have looked upon my grandfather with teary eyes, I have noticed that the interactions with my grandparents (when they think no one is looking) is both heart-warming and heart-wrenching at the same time. Throughout 58 years of marriage, they are still very much in love. And even though my grandfather has hardly any fight left in him, my grandmother is fighting every step of the way. She is his caretaker, the meal-giver, the one who talks to the nurses, the one who ensures that he is feeling okay. There was a moment, right as she finished feeding him his lunch, where she took the napkin, wiped his mouth, and held his face in her hand. They looked at each other as if they were 25 years old again. No one else existed but the two of them.

It has certainly made me think - does love like that even exist anymore? And will I ever find someone to love long enough and cling to the final stages of life with? I mean, isn't that the point of all this? To find an other half - one that will be there until the very end, holding your face and gazing into your eyes; one who has a heart breaking in two but still lets you know that it's okay to let go, to stop suffering.

Though I may be a little cynical and skeptical about love and what it has in store for me. I know, in utter certainty, that I have witnessed love this weekend. And I have learned.. love is about loving someone not for who they ought to be, or could be, but as they are, until the very end.

So, though this weekend has been extremely difficult emotionally, it has also been very beneficial to my overall emotional health. I think I have been harboring all of this emotion in solitude in NYC, and I have been able to talk, cry, hug my family members, and really experience this time with them - instead of alone.

After all, alone is the last place I wanted to be.