Hell on Heels Girls Night Out is Back!! Save The Date!

Lets Mingle, Sip, Laugh, and Dish With The Coolest in town -  Votre Vu of Paris France and Celebrity Makeup Artist James Cornwell.

 Need a Change ? Picture this. You have a truffle hangover and skin that looks like a dryer sheet, so you head to the mall for a new look. After a disastrous department store makeover and a cabbie mistaking you for a thief (in hindsight, the hockey mask was overkill) you decide its time for a change.  Thankfully, one night out with the coolest peeps in G'Town will transform you into a modern woman with sexy tips and trends from celebrity makeup artist James Cornwell at our Beauty Bash play date.

Come and personally meet James and spend time with the sassy Votre Vu Team while learning the latest advances in anti-aging.  Mingle, sip, laugh, dish and be in-the-know with the latest beauty tips, tricks and trends for 2012.  Meet amazing like-minded women while enjoying a great night out.  (Did I mention free product give aways, drinks and a gift for each guest?)

Come and become even more beautiful for fall.  Make your friends jealous.  You know you want to.  This is a place where time stops, the magic never ends, and it’s all in good fun. At least until someone loses an eye.  Cocktails, mocktails and light hors d'oeuvres will be served.

 

Where: Deep River Event Center
             606 Millwood School Road                           
             Greensboro, NC 27409

Date: October 4th, 2011          

Time: 6:30 til 9:00 pm. 

To register (a.k.a. get your free gift) contact Mary Johnson via email naturalbeauty@triad.rr.com  text/phone 336.215.8040. 

 

James Cornwell is an undeniable movement in the fashion industry.  He boasts an impressive client portfolio all of whom are powerhouses in their respective fields. His portfolio includes: Jessica Alba (Valentines Day), Alyssa Milano (Charmed), Mya (singer-songwriter), America Ferrara (Ugly Betty), Parker Posey(You’ve Got Mail), James McAvoy (X-Men), Neiman Marcus, Mango, Bloomingdales, Kathy Luetner (Abercrombie and Fitch), Victoria Schade (Animal Planet), Instyle Magazine, Washington Life Magazine, Today’s Health and Wellness, Americas Next Top Model-Smart Water, Adeler Jewelers and JJ Singh Designs.

What is Exorcism and Poundcake?

Living On The Borderline

This blog is funny. I promise. No heavy stuff. But it does come out of the pain of  growing up in a confusing, contradictory and conflicted childhood. A childhood where God was always watching, even when we went to the bathroom. A childhood where we were told of demons, demon possession, the end times, even the devil living within ourselves if we forgot to fold the clothes or gave some normal teenage lip. A time of cult followings, bathtub births, communal living and "followers" with covenant oaths - all in the name of Jesus. (poor Jesus) Endless hours at meetings, "church" revivals and unnerving deliverance sessions even in our own home.

That's why this blog was named Exorcism and Pound Cake because when my mom baked pound cake I knew it was Bible study night and Satan was coming to visit.I stayed in my room as the thrashing, moaning and screaming went on and on downstairs. I was nine and this was a little confusing. Thanks God for Nancy Drew. She saved my life from "The Clock Tower" to "The Hidden Key." Thanks Nanc.

Watching my parents raise their hands in "church" praising God, later being hit and thrown against your bedroom wall for a small indiscretion was utter confusion. Their affairs, drinking, beer bottles lined up next to the sofa on weekends, church, Jesus, screaming, hitting, whipping with belts, doors kicked open - words that tore at a five-year-old's soul. Sonny and Cher, Karen Carpenter and Neil Diamond. To this day I cannot stand to hear..

The last time my father hit me was in 2003, I was 38, married with three kids. So we left the state.That was almost a decade ago and I haven't looked back once. They never tried to reach me, my emails to them bounced back as "blocked" - they also blew off 3 beautiful grandchildren.

It took me 47 years, thousands of dollars in copays and 6 years of therapy to understand that I was raised by two damaged parents afflicted with Borderline Personality Disorder.

Then I married one. But that's another blog.

The worst kind of lonely, is the loneliness you can have in a relationship with those who are supposed to love you unconditionally, and know you best. If your parents cannot love you, who can? As an adult It has you feeling a deep sense of betrayal from which it's nearly impossible to recover.However -I'm alI about the spin- ask anyone who knows me. 

So I wanted to take my boo-hoo tales and turn them on their head. I have dozens of true events thanks to growing up with crazy BPD inflicted Jesus parents in the 70's.Despite the past, this blog is a humorous light blog with a look at my life now, learning what real love is with my late life relationship, hot and brilliant Mancandy. It's about my amazing grown kids, an unexpected 7 year-old stepson, healing while finding my own identity (I'm a proud democrat now...I know you are but what am I?) and of course the past childhood memories that now, looking back, were positively ridiculous. (Yes my mother prayed over broken appliances to cast out the demons (then called Sears) yes, we really were hid in the basement on Halloween. I wasn't allowed to watch I Dream Of Jeannie because spirits would come through the TV, I had to read the entire Bible to get a clock radio for Christmas. My parents told us we may not be ruptured if we were bad kids and would be left behind staring at their shoes in the kitchen. They went positively crazy with the pending Y2k event and bought a generator and stockpiled rice from Sam's Club.

Where were camera phones when you needed them?

Men Are Simple Creatures

Why are men are always baffled by our mood shifts? Do they think they are EVA the cause? I mean how often do we get "shifty" with our girlfriends?

Like never.

Personally I guess the lethal combination of PMS, no chocolate in the house, and forging for clients during the worst economic depression since men wore hats, sends my emotions on spin cycle. But add my boyfriends   "schedule" changes (after the fact) and you get a really upset girl. 

As he says .. "I always get in trouble if I don't follow protocol."


Yep, that's pretty much it. Stick to the plan and follow all the rules.



For example, holidays, anniversary's and birthdays. All women LOVE gift giving holidays (and if they say they don't  they are lying beyatches to fiend disappointment)  we all sorta expect something ( card, dinner reservations, .....OK,diamonds?) and to top it all off, what they DON'T know is that we see the timing and selection of gifts as a secret message. 

Yes, secret messages. For example, a poorly chosen gift,  (Costco membership, a spatula, ant killer, Dust Buster, slippers or a blender) is just plain bad juju. Personally I drop hints 17 weeks before any gift-giving holiday and wonder if he gets it.( Linda got a Coach purse from Andy and a surprise trip to 5 European countries......)  I think all men should wear a wire so they can review these suggestions later and start saving and planning. ( Disclaimer: In that department I have seen vintage jewelry, Star Gazer Lillys, and stained glass windows appear that I had drooled over months earlier.)

Reading into gifts is an art. For example, if a guy gives me a cappuccino maker for two. I immediately would read into it as... "He wants to marry me because this is for two people and we will be living together. Oh and maybe there is a ring tucked inside the grinder thingy." (until I remember he hates cappuccino and rings...)

Reality man translation: "now I don't have to wait in the Starbucks parking lot on weekends so you can run in and spend $3.95 with my debit card." 

Hypathetically, if a guy buys me an iron. Our interpretation is that he is clearly wanting to save dry cleaning  money, and I am now expected to iron his crinkled shirts that he insists on blasting in the dryer in the same load as the mop head and dog bed cover. 

Like no.

Men need to understand that this dance began ages ago and is timeless. I read this next example in a fantastically funny book my BF bought me called (of all things) A Practical Handbook To The Boyfriend. Think of the first boyfriend, Adam. You think he wasn't baffled by his girlfriend? You bet he was. Now, there's a guy who could have used a manual, a girlfriend road map and a GPS. You may not think he needed it, after all, he was alone in paradise, had some snacks, and Eve was already naked.

But I beg to differ.

Their problems weren't over money, getting out of dinner with her parents, or his addiction to online poker or America's Funniest Videos. No, their issues revolved around a small piece of red fruit.

God said, "Don't eat it." Eve said, "If you love me you'll bite!!" The poor guy had God on one side and Eve on the other; talk about a rock and a hard place. Adam tried to reason with his girl, warning her of the dangers of breaking the one rule God had made, but she wouldn't listen. From her point of view it wasn't about the apple or God (she wasn't hungry and had never even met this God guy..) it was about whether her boyfriend took her seriously and understood her feelings.  

Sound familiar?

But maybe Adam was just a regular guy, trying to toe the line with The Man while trying to keep his HM girlfriend happy. It couldn't have been easy. We girlfriends can be a lot to handle yes, we demand consistent intimacy, and special day remembrances. We ask a lot of questions: "What are you thinking about?" "Do you love me the same now or more then before?" "What's wrong today?.... you sound funny." "Are you mad at me because you haven't called me for 36.2 hours but you have watched 12 TV shows." or "Am I fat to you?.... like more then last summer or do I look the same or thinner?" and my personal fav's... "Were there any hot girls at that conference in Sweden? Did anyone hit on you? Did you do your hair with product, or is that just for me? Are you in that dark suit? Which tie?.... not the red one right, because you look so hot in the red one..." 

And the transitions are murder. One minute we're lying around happy and naked (think Eve), and the next minute we're dressed to kill, goose-stepping all over your heart (think Eva Braun) being cold and purposely not answering your calls. (This never lasts, we call back in 10 minutes and claim we were vacuuming. Not.)

We girls are easy with a few rules. Make us feel like a princess ALL the time. Don't yell at us and make us cry, put our relationship first, (at least sometimes) stick to your word, buy the cards, touch our hair, tell us we smell good,and that we don't have back fat. 


....Just follow protocol.

He's right :)

Fifteen Reasons Why I think My Childhood May Have Been Messed Up

1) Our house was filled with furniture my parents stole from the Salvation Army drop box at night.

2) We were made to help shove these items into a Dodge station wagon with a very narrow hatchback wearing pajamas.Usually it was raining.

3) My parents insisted that we all sit in the pitch dark basement on Halloween with one candle to avoid "spiritual warfare". My brother actually admits this. He has blocked everything else out.

I think this was all just to get out of buying the Halloween candy.

4) My parents belonged to a freaky cult where people gave birth in their bathtubs at home, next to a bottle of Lysol with the family, neighbors and cat looking on. I saw pictures.

5) My mother would circle a party listening for anyone who would complain of an ailment, then offer to deliver demons or heal them. This included cold sores. No joke.

6) My Father used to stand at the top of the steps screaming at me when I was late coming home at night. His pajamas were see-through with the light behind them. He never knew why I was laughing hysterically.My poor mother...ew.

7)I saw my mother on all fours on top of the washing machine once, rebuking Satan, screaming at the helpless broken appliance with a wild look in her eye and her smiley face earnings swinging. I stared at her like a puppy trying to figure out a vacuum cleaner.

When this didn't work she climbed down and calmly said "call Sears".

8)  Mom mixed powdered milk and poured it into a "normal" store bought milk carton to trick us. I guess the smelly yellow foam on top was the dead give-away.

9) I came home after school in the 11th grade to find my mother frantically filling a garbage bag with various items around the house claiming they were either satanic or filthy. (she clearly had just read a new book) My old Donny Osmond records, a  yarn Gods-eye I made at camp, souvenirs from Mexico, an ashtray, several Catholic relics from my now dead grandmother, rosaries, prayer cards, books, (Are You There God It's Me Margarete) 10 record albums including Heart whom she insisted were lesbians not sisters, and a Donny and Marie lunch box (Mormons). She burned them at her friend "Putsys" house. I never had the heart to tell her about dads hidden Penthouse collection in the garage.

Each of those items are now at collectors value on Ebay. I check often just to torture myself.

10) We were forbidden to watch Bewitched or I Dream Of Jeanie.

11) My Mother used to tie pantyhose to mine and my brothers bedroom door knobs, which were across the hall from each other, so we would stay in our rooms. She would go downstairs and smoke while chatting on the phone..

12) We had red white and blue carpet in our kitchen .Mom insisted it "warms things up."

13) We were never allowed to have sugared cereal, candy or soda in the house - so when PMS hit around 12, I would take hits from the Hershey's Syrup can when she wasnt looking.

14) Mom had the great idea to sell miniature 3 inch  "bread loaves" at the church holiday bazaar one year. We baked and shellacked 500 tiny loaves of bread for 48 hours. She sold two. After that everyone we knew got bread mobiles as gifts from 1974 to 1998.Thank God I didn't get my marketing and product branding smarts from her.

15) When I was 17, we went to Cancun Mexico on a first (and last) family vacation. To save money, my parents smuggled canned Spam past customs. They were as nervous as if they had ten pounds of cocaine. Later they cleverly cooked little slices using the lid as a pan on the tiny  stove in our hotel room. There we sat on the bed, waiting for "dinner" watching dad flip each piece with a fork.

This is when I knew I had to escape. I moved out a week later.

Thoughts

When life's knocked us around. And our childhood myths reveal themselves to be just that. The truth feels like the biggest sucker-punch of them all: it's not a spouse or land or a job or money that brings us happiness. Those achievements, those relationships, can enhance our happiness, yes, but happiness has to start from within. Relying on any other equation can be lethal.