Estee Lauder is my new BFF

This is a compensated review from BlogHer and Estée Lauder Advanced Night Repair

I turned 46 years old in May. Forty-six. How did that happen? I look in the mirror and see the same face that looked back at me when I was 26. I never paid much attention to my skin aging before, I was more worried about the zits that I couldn't seem to grow out of, but once I got closer to 50 than 40, I figured it was time to change my tune.

(Okay, that and BlogHer and Estée Lauder invited me to review Advanced Night Repair. But really! I was going to look for something to use to combat years of ignoring sun and pollution damage when the offer came, and who am I to say no?)

My usual skincare routine is lazy at best. I wash my face, throw some toner at it, and then...if I don't see any new pimples, I moisturize. Making the commitment to pay attention while using this product meant really PAYING ATTENTION.

And so I did.

I washed my face with my usual cleanser, used my toner, and then applied the Advanced Night Repair. Estée Lauder recommends using their moisturizer afterwards, but since I didn't have any, I used my regular moisturizer.

It's amazing. Well and truly - even though everything else about my skincare routine was the same, my skin does look younger - it feels firmer and has a glow that it hasn't had since...well, since I was 26. I no longer have dry or blotchy patches - my face is evenly hydrated and evenly toned. I can only imagine what I'll look like when I pick up more of the line. (Dare I say it? hot?)

Retail Price: $47.50 --- For more information, click here.

The packaging is great. The logo on the brown and gold bottle is pure Estée Lauder. The dropper dispenses just the right amount of the serum. It's a small enough package to get through airport security (important since I travel weekly)!

The liquid is a clear, creamy-ish gel with a slight fresh, citrusy scent. It smooths over skin easily and absorbs quickly.

If you're ready for healthier, younger-looking, glow-tacular skin, this is definitely a product worth considering. Don't just take my word for it, though. You can read other reviews here.

Even better:

Estée Lauder invites you to AMERICAS NIGHT TO REPAIR. On Thursday, July 23, 5-9PM, visit any Estée Lauder Counter and get a free 10-day supply of New Advanced Night Repair, no purchase necessary (while supplies last).

********

How about you? What skin problem would you like to repair?

Ehemmmm.

So, is this thing still on? No, really. October 16, 2008 was the last time I posted here? I guess my whole idea of pointing you to good books kinda fell by the wayside, eh? Must have something to do with the whole losing my job, finding a job, outrageous travel schedule, etc, etc, and whine, whine, whine.

In the interest of full disclosure, I'm doing a review for BlogHer soon (and hope to do more) and their rules are pretty stringent about having a DIFFERENT site for some of the products. Plus, I'm all about ME on My Life as a Hotfessional (well, okay, that and bitching about others), so reviews don't really fit there.

Anyway - my way of saying, "Stay tuned".

Chicken Soup WINNERS

Commenters 5... 7... and 4!

Now, I crossed my fingers that you wouldn't all want the same book - and I got lucky. Only one of the winners asked for a specific edition - so y'all made it easy on me.

Thank you. Sincerely. Because for a minute there, I panicked.

1. Moms & Sons - Stories by Mothers and sons, in Appreciation of Each Other Pamela, yay you! Pamela - you get the sons one. Remember. Tissues.
   
2. Like Mother, Like Daughter - Stories about the Special Bond between Mothers and Daughters - Deb gets this one. Deb, I don't have an email for you, so please get in touch soon!
   
3. Moms Know Best - Stories of Appreciation for Mothers and Their Wisdom - Goes to Pam.

Winners - please email me with your particulars so I can get these in the mail. (BTW, anyone who knows me knows that getting me to the Post Office is like pulling teeth, but I promise it'll be before the end of the month!)

Chicken Soup

Honestly y'all. I'm nursing my first head cold in years - and it's a doozy. As soon as I posted that I never, ever get sick in a meme on "My Life as a Hotfessional", Karma decided to kick my butt to the ground with the hacking and the sneezing and the swollen eyes.

What's the best thing in the world for a cold?

Chicken Soup!

And when it's in print form - and you're reading it - and your nose is running and you're tearing up and reaching for the tissues and your family is laughing at you for crying about a book, you can pretend it's the stupid head cold. (Not that I would ever do that, you understand!)

Annnnyyyyywayyyyyy.

Here's an excerpt (reprinted with permission):

---

In Mom We Trust
The truth will set you free, but first it will make you miserable.
~James A. Garfield

My mom embarrassed me. In fifth grade, she was the
mom interrupting sex education with my birthday
cupcakes. In seventh grade, she picked up the phone
and told me it was bedtime at 9:30 on a Friday night when I was on
the phone with Eric, the cute boy in art class. And after Sam stood
me up on the night of winter formal, my mom stormed into his work
and made a scene, demanding he pay for my unused dress and shoes.
Although (I must admit) it would have been classic to see the look
on his face had I been there, I was furious with her for making matters
even more humiliating. Mom was always there to serve and protect.
She was like a superhero who just seemed to make everything
worse.

During the middle years when every month brought changes
in bra size, boyfriends and hair color, my mom was as impossible to
hide from as puberty. She was like a supernatural force, a divine spirit
with psychic abilities. If I made any sort of mistake, she knew about
it before I walked through the front door. She had a sixth sense, and
it wasn’t fair. My friends could experiment and lie and be out past
curfew, and their parents would never in a thousand years catch on.
As for me, if I were to even sample a beer or inhale one drag of a cigarette,
my mom knew. As a result, by high school I had learned that it was best
for me not to lie — after all, I knew better. I had a mom who
knew everything, anyway.

And then there was a night when I couldn’t be honest. All my
friends were making a journey down to Mexico for the evening. The
boy I especially liked invited me to come along. He was older and
had a car. I really, really wanted to go. I had resisted in the past,
but this time I found myself agreeing to the invitation. (My parents
thought I was spending the night with my best friend.) We went, and
it was fun and dangerous and stupid, and GREAT! Luckily, we made
it home safely that night, and I spent the night at a friend’s house.
His parents weren’t home, but if they had been, I have a feeling they
wouldn’t have cared that ten high-schoolers were gathered in their
living room after a night in Tijuana. They were the type of parents
who just didn’t seem to care all that much about anything, which at
the time I thought was pretty cool.

The morning after my little rebellious experience, my dad opened
the front door to greet me.

“Hi Bec,” he cheered. My mother put down her dishtowel and
kissed me on the cheek. I waited for her to notice something different
about me, something that might lead her to believe that I had been
up to no good.

“I’m gonna take a shower now,” I began.

She didn’t say anything. She just hugged me tightly and asked
me not to forget to clean my room. I spent twenty minutes in the
shower wondering what I should do. My mom would surely figure it
all out sooner or later. Should I tell her?

I decided to stay rigid. I was a good little actress. I could cover
for myself if I needed to. A lie (just this once) couldn’t hurt anyone.
When I came down for breakfast, I waited for the inquisition, but to
my surprise, it never came. Mom’s crystal ball must have been cloudy
that day, and for once, she didn’t suspect a thing. I was in luck. I was
relieved. I was shocked. I was guilty.

My conscience caught up with me after a few days. I couldn’t
stand it anymore and I told Mom everything, every detail. She cried,
of course, scared for my life, afraid of what could have happened to
me, and through her gentle tears she grounded me — for an entire
month! Why, might you ask, did I tell her? Trust me, I asked myself
that same question every day of that miserable month. I could have
gotten away with it. I know that for a fact — or do I?

Sooner or later she would have probably found out about everything.
And if that had happened, she would have not only grounded
me, but would have lost all of her trust in me, as well. You see, after
the Mexico incident, after I had confessed and then served my sentence,
I eventually earned back my parents’ trust. In return, I was
given a later curfew, not to mention more privileges.

I didn’t tell my parents everything after that. Instead, we had a
system. I told Mom and Dad where I was going, when I would be
back and the important things that were happening in my life. It
turned out that superpsychic mom was cooler than I had originally
thought. I liked that she cared about me and my life, and I really
liked being able to share with her.

Over the years, Mom’s embarrassment factor has dimmed like
an old night light, but she remains the raging superhero she always
was. Even though I’m living one hundred miles away, she brings me
soup if I’m sick, helps with my work when I’m swamped and makes
sure that boyfriends are treating me right. She still has her crystal
ball on hand and will often call me on a bad day to cheer me up even
before I tell her that I was just fired, dumped or just plain lonely. She
has grown to be my best friend, and even though I don’t live at home
anymore, I still confide in her and tell her everything. Well — almost.


~Rebecca Woolf
Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul on Love & Friendship

---

I have THREE (count'em! THREE) Chicken Soup for the Soul books to give away.

1. Moms & Sons - Stories by Mothers and sons, in Appreciation of Each Other
   
2. Like Mother, Like Daughter - Stories about the Special Bond between Mothers and Daughters
3. Moms Know Best - Stories of Appreciation for Mothers and Their Wisdom

(Yes, it was the first one that caused me to go through a box of tissue last night while pretending that it was my cold. Don't tell Mr. Hot!)

So, all you have to do is be leave me a comment and tell me which book you want. I'll randomly choose the winner on Shortman's birthday - October 16th - in honor of the day I became a mom!

Love,
The Hotfessional

If your Hair Falls Out, Keep Dancing!

by Leslie Ann Butler

If only I'd had this book when I first started losing my hair to Alopecia Areata twelve years ago. There are some parts that would have frightened me, maybe - like the thought that I could get all of my hair back and THEN, little more than a decade later, lose it ALL - but it would have also given me strength - the strength that comes with knowing that there are others like me out there.

Many others.

In the chapter called "Nights of a Thousand Tears", Leslie Ann and women she talks with explain the feelings that they deal with even after years of living with this disorder. Some of their stories made me cry. Some made me laugh. All made me realize that I'm not the first to have gone through this.

"Pulling it Off" - my personal favorite chapter - speaks to stories of telling friends and lovers. Having no hair is bad enough for a woman, but having your boyfriend walk out of your life when you tell him must be devastating. Except in hindsight - because, really, who wants THAT jerk anyway?

Leslie Ann provides invaluable information on wigs, eyebrows (in fact, I purchased the recommended "Beauti-Full Brows" temporary tattoo eyebrows after reading about them here) and eyelashes. Eye makeup tips that make all the difference in the world if you feel the need to

The best part of all about this book, though, is that even the serious parts are related with a sense of understanding and underlying humor. And having "met" Leslie Ann through Alopecia World - I can tell you with 100% certainty, she's a beautiful woman - inside AND out.

I'm passing my copy around to all of my family members to read. I hope that it will open their eyes.

The Winner - Giveaway #2

The winner of the 20 commenters, as determined by Random.org is lucky #10 - Miss Missie from Death by Chocolate Martini!

Missie - send me your info (reereep -at- gmail -dot- com) so I can get you a copy of this fantastic book!

Love,
The Hotfessional

Hump - True Tales of Sex After Kids

I've been woefully lax at updating this site - even though I'm not at all surprised that I've been a slacker. Don't get me wrong, I've been reading lots of books - but I'm a bit behind on the "Best Sellers" lists...so I figure that the books I've been reading - you read, oh say, last summer. Or the summer before. Or five years ago! Snort.

But! Today, I get the pleasure of reviewing "Hump - True Tales of Sex After Kids" by Kimberly Ford.

Y'all! This is an amazing read.

Now, it's been a long time since I've had to worry about Shortman coming into our bedroom and saying, "Are you guys wrestling?" (Yes, it happened)

It's been a long time since I had to worry about a busted condom or an expelled IUD. Mr. Hot and I used to joke that if I hadn't been on the pill, we could look at each other and I'd get pregnant (2 miscarriages before Shortman turned three convinced me that getting my tubes tied was a much better option than going through that if I forgot to take my pill at precisely the exact same time every single day!).

Now, we're more likely to be subjected to door slamming and eye rolling if the 6'2" fruit of our loins hears us having sex. (Well, y'know, I can't always be quiet - and what fun is that anyway?)

But! This book (the first line of which is, "I love the word fuck" - you KNOW this is a woman after my own heart) isn't only for the parents of infants and toddlers. It isn't even only for those of you with young-ish children.

It's for every parent that forgets that hot, sweaty fucking or slow, gentle love-making is important for reconnecting with your partner. For decompressing after your hectic days. For remembering that you're not just Susie's mom or Bobby's dad - you're a sexual being whose needs and desires didn't disappear when you added to your family.

And it's funny. A particular "Secret" in "Secrets of the Magic Wand" (I soooo typed "want" there first, ha!) had me laughing so hard I couldn't make eye contact with Mr. Hot for a good 10 minutes afterwards.

He, of course, kept saying, "What?!? What?!?" (I told him I'd show him later. )

"Laser Lover" inspired me in completely different ways.

"Back in the Saddle" reminded me that I never bothered going to my 6-week post-partum checkup. Because I knew everything was fine after only 2 weeks. (Ooops !)

I loved this book. I loved it so much I'm going to buy someone a copy of it. Leave me a comment here and I'll send the winner (chosen by random.org) their very own copy. I'd say that I'd send you my copy, but no fuckin' way. I'm keeping this. Even the Hotfessional sometimes forgets what's important in life and needs reminding.

Love,
The Hotfessional

P.S. Comments must be submitted by Monday 8/25 - 8:00 am Eastern