Red Lips and a Little Tip: Quick Tip

So I've recently begun wearing red lipstick as a makeup change up. It's difficult, I'll admit.

The most challenging part for me is making sure that my lips are moisturized because... hello. Chapped lips hold color about as well as a newborn can hold their head up. Which is not at all. 

So here's my tips...

Vaseline can fix any amount of dehydration in your lips. It is best to use it the night before you plan on wearing your lipstick compared to lathering on the petroleum jelly 5 minutes before you add the head turning color. You can even wear Vaseline in your shower, the heat has always helped my lips when combined with Vaseline. 

Always always always line and cancel out the colors in your lips. It's usual to want to skip making your lips the perfect canvas, especially when you have ten minutes to get to your first class. But if you're running that behind... maybe you shouldn't be worrying about makeup. But I've found that you can use concealer or a nude colored lipstick as your color canceler, depending on the lipstick. Lining is easy, but make sure you don't end up looking like Jocelyn Wildenstein with the over done lips.

Make sure your lipstick isn't on the inside of your lips. Lipstick on the teeth can be very unappealing.

The L Word

As Valentine's Day approaches us quickly, I would like to approach the idea of love. 

For starters, I hate Valentine's Day. People making a profit off the "holiday" of love. It's made for the card companies, the chocolate confectioners, and the stuffed animal makers. All of these things I love, but I haven't ever been in a relationship on the stupid day. 

Anyway... Girls are taught all their lives that finding the perfect man to marry is a big deal. A large part of our lives. We become obsessed with it as we grow up. Disney movies with princesses falling in love turn into teenage sitcoms and movies with buff guys as the perfect boyfriends who have cheesy lines to make the girl swoon. Those turn into Sex and the City and Say Yes to the Dress marathons, which turn into romcoms. All of these continue to play on the idea that being in love is the ideal in our lives. 

I'll admit, I dream of my future wedding every night, changing up who the groom is. My dress is perfect, a full skirt and a tight, lacy, and beaded bodice that make me look like my childhood princesses. My bouquet full of fresh pale pink and white peonies. My shoes lifting me inches above my usual stature. The aisle decorated with colors matching my bridesmaids and bouquet. My groom, pressed and dressed in a tan suit, hair neatly tousled, and smile broad across his face. 

The groom changes because I myself cannot imagine a single person being my groom. I am simply not in love. How could I be? I am 18 and have a steady changing of guys. Some like me, some don't, I like some, and others I don't. Sure, I've dated several guys. It's easier to pick what I dislike than it is to pick what I do like. 

I don't like smokers. I don't like guys with dependencies. I don't like guys with bad grammar. I don't like bad teeth. I don't like bad hygiene. I don't like this. I don't like that.

It becomes difficult to say what I do like.

As the likes and dislikes begin to outweigh each other, it becomes clear that maybe I am indeed learning the habits that would be deal breakers.

Love isn't about deal breaking though. It's more about bending. You have to be able to accept the smoking, the drinking, the grammar, the teeth. You love the person wholly. However, teeth and dependencies are past just deal breakers, they are completely out of the question. 

It seems as though college is the place to fall in love. Apparently women used to go to get their MRS instead of their BS. Which has changed to women going to school for school instead of marriage. 

You hear your parents' friends talking about meeting in the dorms, in class, at a party.. You have to ask yourself, "will I find my love here?" You begin questioning where all the guys are at, if you're at the right school, and if there's anywhere you are missing. You forget that you don't have control over who you fall in love with.

I'm always chapped on the good ole V-day. I'm single. I'm chocolate free. I'm smelling pizza rolls instead of the peonies that will be in my bouquet one day. 

Not this year. This year I am spending Valentine's Day with the girls I love. My best friends, the ones who watch stupid movies with me, the ones who help me forget about being single and remember the importance of friends. V-Day is about love. But not just romantic love. Friendship love, puppy love, deep love, the love of a family, or the love of a pet. You can love several people in many different ways. Why would you only celebrate a princess idea of love? 

I remind myself daily that I will find myself a good ole boy to fall in love with and we'll get married. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I will find a cute little puppy instead. Either way, as long as I keep the delusions of love out of my head and remember all the different kinds of love, I will be okay.

Changing Majors, Coughing Feathers

Being an Animal Science major meant dealing with a bunch of seemingly unnecessary agriculture classes. I was thinking and thinking about how working at the vet clinic made me feel. It was fun, but it didn't feel like my idea of the perfect life long adventure that many call a career.

So, I began brainstorming. Using every resource I could think of. I spent hours on Bridges, finding the perfect future job for me, or at least a more perfect major.

Then it hit me. Science was my clear passion. I had to do something in the science field. Biology. I had mastered the art of AP Biology last year and it was the only class that I actually retained information from. Plus, I could become a doctor with a degree in biology. 

It was clearly perfect. So I made the switch. 

I, however, did NOT change my classes like I wanted to. Now I am stuck in Poultry Science, going to labs in the buildings that reek of ammonia, even though it's a low percentage. 

Now, if you don't know me, I used to have asthma. It has been managed pretty well over the past several years, but the ammonia felt like a trigger. It could be a small amount of ammonia and I will feel like I am going to pass out. 

I am also freaked out by birds. They have those talons and those beaks. Clearly, not my favorite. But the 26 day old chickens were cuter than I imagined they would be. 

The Life Of College As I Learned In My First Semester

It's been awhile. Surprisingly, college makes it hard to find free time. Between the classes, the parties, and all the Netflix movies and shows, it's hard to figure out how one might manage this balance. However, I think I'm beginning to figure it out. 

Classes are easy enough, they're scheduled and you show up. Showing up really is the hardest part of the classes. 

Once you get your classes down, finding time to party and watch an excessive amount of movies come next. Being a single female that is apparently pretty enough to be desired by drunk and sober males alike, parties are easy to become invited to. 

The fraternities on campus all hold some fun guys and some douchebags, as you would imagine. Finding people to hang out with at parties is easy enough, especially since the best thing to do is go in a group. I found my group. Enough girls and guys to make it safe and balanced. But back to the "frat" boys. I refuse to say "frat" as the appropriate term. Frat has more of a negative connotation, and the boys I hang out with do not deserve that negativity. At least not always. 

These boys are basically in charge of flirting to get you to stay. It's like all the girls that work at breasteraunts. The scantily clad girls will flirt with you for a larger tip, much like the fraternity boys will flirt and make sure you are having a good time so you will stay, with the ultimate goal of getting you to come back with more hot girl friends. 

I've never been one to clean up someone else's physical mess. If your boyfriend breaks up with you and your emotional stability is out the window... I can clean that up, ice cream and The Notebook. But if you vomit on my shoes... I'll most likely remove my shoes and leave them on the pavement with the rest of your rejection. I've always been that way. So as you would imagine, parties are a harder concept for me than a t shirt would be for a horse. Plus, I don't dance. 

I do, however, enjoy being flirted with. 

The Phi Delta Theta boys had a party and sure, they ran out of alcohol, got busted by the cops, and the house was like a sauna from the body heat and sweat. But, the boys did their job, even I got to dance with one of the more attractive brothers. Actually, he could have been a pledge, but that doesn't stop him from being attractive. I also got to meet a kid from my history class; he had that foreign exchange sexiness that comes with being Mediterranean. I'm actually 90% sure that the Phi Delt boy I danced with is in my English class now... 

The Sigma Nu party was definitely not the same. I was completely different in the beginning of the year though. The SigNu party came well before the PhiDelt party and I had changed in those 3 or 4 months. The Sigma Nu party was one of the first weeks of school. And it was a paint party. I only had my best friend, Kelsey, there with me. Which made things difficult since we didn't know how to find some people to talk to. We eventually found a kid we had met in our lobby a few weeks before. This party actually led to my first "hook up," if you will. However, it was not an actual "hook up."

The Delta Chi parties are always fun. I say that, because while several people would find the more kickback like parties boring, I like the intimacy of getting to actually know people in a place where getting off your ass wasted is harder than double fisting 4 beer cans. These boys are the definition of chill. Sure sometimes they can go hard, but they usually just gradually get wasted.

Then there are the guys who don't invite me to parties, but to the several bars around town. While technically as an underage adult, I am not supposed to be in the establishment, I guess no one really cares as long as I don't drink. Tonight I got invited to Bullfrogs. I almost said yes based off the sheer fact that three of the guys going were attractive, and I tried to get to know the boys that asked all last semester.

Netflix will ruin your life. "But one more episode," you'll say. By the time you're done watching tv, it's 5 in the morning and class is in 3 hours. I have no comment on this really because I haven't managed to beat the movie temptation.