Thursday, July 10, 2014

Herbal Essences Naked Moisture review

In my Influenster VoxBox I received Herbal Essences Naked Moisture hair products. To be specific I received the shampoo, conditioner, and dry shampoo. This is my review. I was initially intrigued by this product because it’s sulfate, paraben, and dye free. I’m always looking for something that’s slightly better for my hair, skin, or nails.
I guess I’ll start with the packaging. It’s cute. I feel like it’s simple and (kind of) sleek. Basically it’s at the same caliber that other HE products are.
Upon first use, I really liked it. The only downside is that the shampoo didn’t foam the way I expect a good shampoo to. My hair felt pretty good after using the shampoo and conditioner and I couldn’t wait to use it again!
Second use: The shampoo still didn’t foam. Sigh. I hate that. It also made my hair feel really REALLY coarse. More so than usual. I felt like I had to use the entire bottle of conditioner (it was travel size, okay) to make it feel slightly better.
Here’s the thing though, it didn’t feel much better. My hair is damaged. I dye it and use hot tools on it constantly. That being said, I don’t use high end salon products. I prefer something I can grab from a drugstore. I use L’oreal shampoo and conditioner and usually a Dove dry shampoo.
Final thoughts: These products won’t get a third try from me. I’ll just chalk it up to the fact that maybe it’s not compatible with my hair type because I know a couple of people who LOVE this line.

Dry shampoo review: It smells great, although it’s a bit strong. It does its job, but it could just be the way that I apply it that makes it work so well. I prefer to spray down my hair with dry shampoo the night before (if I know I’m not washing my hair the next day) that way while I toss and turn at night the dry shampoo REALLY works into my hair. I would repurchase this product again but I really do love the Dove dry shampoo as well!

Until next time, make it rain.
D

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Oh, hi

I told you I wouldn't remember this damn thing.

Life is a funny thing. I quit my job. I got a new one. Although I'm not sure of what it entails quite yet, though. I start training on Friday.

I pride myself in being someone who knows what she's worth and doesn't like people taking advantage of her. I fixed that issue. I no longer feel like that. Right now, I'm focusing on trying to make myself happy again. And make money, I'm not trying to stress out my husband like that. Lol.

So what have you missed? Not much. Just a whole bunch of me bitching, stressing, and whining about my life. I don't like doing that so I had to take a step back and breathe. That's how I figured that I needed to leave my previous job. Well, that's all I have for now.


Until next time; make it rain,
D.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Two posts, one day.

Death is a funny thing. Not laugh out loud funny but more "I can't believe that just happened, is this real life" kind of funny. My heart hurts right now because one of my close friends is at a loss. Her boyfriend's grandmother passed away and from what I gather they were all very close. This makes me think of my Lola and what my family went through when she passed away.

My Lola was and is my everything. Every moment that I'm breathing, I'm breathing for her. My Lola is the rock of my family and was always there for every single one of us.

A month before I was set to start my first year of college my Lola came in to my room and asked me to help her put on her sweater. I was so irritated. Why would she wake me up so early? I begrudgingly got up to help her and asked her why she couldn't put it on herself, she wasn't injured or disabled. That's when I noticed it. Her speech was slurred. Immediately I was on alert and shaking. I asked her what happened and she said that she fell in her room. I ran into my uncle's room and woke him up by screaming that Lola had fallen and was speaking funny. He got up and instructed me to call 911. I barely remember talking to the operator, I just remember crying hysterically and begging her to get someone here quickly. It was an out of body experience when I was watching the paramedics tending to her. They rushed her to the ER and worked on her. Turns out she had a stroke but we called them with enough time to get her a clock stopper shot. After a week in ICU, during which none of us slept, she was functioning. I postponed college a semester and stayed with her every day in her hospital room. Even when she was weak she still took care of me, feeding me from her meals she had delivered and having me cuddle with her on the bed so that she could rub my back.

I was so ashamed of how I acted when she woke me up and all I could think was how grateful I was to have her still alive. My Lola lived and recovered quite nicely from all of this. Two years later she left for the Philippines, she visited at least once a year, and we all dropped her off at the airport. I said I was going to miss her and I couldn't wait for her to come home and tell me how everything is back there. She looked at me and said "Be a good girl for your mama." That was the last thing she ever said to me. She had tried calling me once or twice but I was working and when I would try to call back I couldn't get a hold of her. 5 days before she was set to come home, I was hanging out with my best friend at my house when I get a call from my auntie. I answer and say hi but the only response I get back is a cry/scream. When I heard that all I thought was either she lost the baby she was pregnant with or something happened to her daughter. Then she cries out "she's gone. Lola passed away." I remember falling to my knees with a scream and crying uncontrollably. My best friend runs out of the bathroom thinking I injured myself and when I tell her what happened she cries with me.

My aunt tells me she needs me over there and I have to find my uncle and tell him. Sigh. That wasn't going to be an easy task. My uncle is my grandma's favorite. Her only boy. Her protector. After multiple phone calls my uncle and his friend come speeding home. I couldn't tell him over the phone. It just didn't seem right. He rushes up to me thinking I've been hurt. I lead him to our backyard and say to him "Lola is gone." Tears came easy for us that night. We just kept on crying. I couldn't understand that she passed away right before she was supposed to come back to us.

The year that follows was my hardest. I was depressed. I was mad at the world, mad at myself. I didn't understand how someone so strong could pass away from pneumonia after surviving a stroke.

My Lola is always with me. She was with me when I fell in love. She was with me when in was happy, when I cried, when I needed guidance. She stood on that beach with me while I got married.

My only solace is that she is happy and pain free. I know she's playing with our cats that passed away after her and she's giving everyone her opinion on heaven. She's probably complaining abut the color scheme up there.


To my friend, I don't know your exact pain but I feel for you. This post is dedicated to you and your family. I hope you rejoice in the good times and cherish every moment like it's your last. To your grandmother, rest in peace and make sure to say hi to my Lola, I'm sure you two strong ladies will get along just fine.

To any one who has experienced loss, my heart is with you. Maybe one day I'll share the happy moments I've had with my Lola but I've shared too much for one day.

Until next time,
D

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Food for curves?

I hate the saying "real women have curves".

Why? It makes me feel like shit. I understand that people say it to make those who have curves feel better about themselves and I'm all for it. More power to you! Work those curves. However, this saying makes me feel unworthy of being a woman. I was not blessed with an hourglass figure or a rear end that belongs in rap music videos. I'm petite. From the chest down I have a similar shape to that of a 10 year old boy. You could argue that my lack of voluptuous curves makes it easier to buy pants/skirts/etc. but it doesn't. I don't have enough junk in my trunk to keep my pants up, so I suffer from saggy diaper butt.

Am I not a real woman because I don't have curves? Have I simply paraded around life being a faux woman? Ladies, lets embrace our bodies. Don't have curves? Who cares?! Give them a middle finger when they call you a pancake ass (yes, that has happened to me before.) Be proud of your pancake ass! If you have curves you better be out there strutting your stuff and ignoring them when they say "you're too fat." Truth be told, you'll never be everyone's cup of tea. Just be happy in the skin you're in and keep it moving. Crying over your body won't change it, I've tried. You either change it for YOU or you get a sense of humor. Can you guess which one I did? Hint: I'm too lazy to work out and I don't believe in giving up sweets.


 I say we change the saying. Here's an idea: "If you have a vagina, you are a real woman." Catchy, right?



Until next time, make it rain.
D

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Why in the world is your tagline "is that your stripper name?"

Here's the thing. My name is Destinee. No, I am not a stripper. But I guess having the name that I have warrants the question (thanks, mom), it doesn't help that it's spelled with two E's either. My only saving grace is that it doesn't end in I (example: Candi).

Yes, some people are really stupid enough to ask me that. Namely, guys. Apparently that's the new way to pick someone up. Offend them to the point of coming home with you. Like I said, stupid.

Flashback to 2008. Back when going to the club was fun and the only problem I had was trying to find a dress to wear that night. I was obviously too young to drink, which anyone could tell. If they couldn't tell by my face I'm pretty sure the ginormous black X's on my hands were a dead giveaway. My best friend and I (lets name her Tasha) were getting our groove on, when we were approached by two older gentlemen trying to buy us drinks. We tried to be nice, because this was before I discovered that I had an amazing bitch resting face. So we (and by we, I mean Tasha) were chatting with them and they asked our names. When we told them they automatically latched on to my name. I'm used to this. Growing up, no one else had my name. But I definitely didn't expect this man's response. He said "is that your stripper name?" Um, WHAT?! I was in so much shock all I did was shake my head and walk away. My night was ruined and the only thing that could cure it was IHOP. I needed hashbrowns stat.

Now that you know why I titled my blog the way that I did, I can tell you why I'm doing this. I find writing therapeutic. I wish I could say I'll write in this daily, but let's be for real. I'm lazy. I'm also busy (eating, gaming, and working; but that's besides the point.) I might write in this weekly. MIGHT. I'll cover everything. My job, food, experiences, beauty products, reality TV, and friends. Nothing is off limits. It would be pretty cool to look back in 10 years and reread what I write about everything.

Until next time, make it rain.
D