Thursday, November 17, 2011

On Giving: Natural Masks for Face & Hair

In the fall months, you may start to feel a little sluggish, your hair and face a little lackluster, due to reduced sunlight (and therefore Vitamin D), as well as dietary changes. Fear not! These two simple masks you can make at home will restore shine and smoothness to hair, as well as calm hormonal breakouts and acne with skin. Guys and gals alike, enjoy. :)

FACE MASK (gets rid of blackheads, tones pores, soothes breakouts)
  1. Mix 1 tbsp real orange juice with 1 tbsp baking soda
  2. Spread a thin layer on face. (There should be enough for two applications, or one if you put it on your neck and décolletage, too, which I do.)
  3. Leave on for 20 minutes
  4. Dampen finger tips and scrub mask in circular motions for extra exfoliation
  5. Rinse

The mask will tingle and itch a little so it’s good too have a distraction—paint your nails, watch TV, but whatever you do, don’t talk. As the paste dries, any facial movements will cause it to flake off. Your skin will be pink afterwards (see photo), like as you just peeled off a few layers. When I am done I use a really gentle toner and then slather on some lotion.

Tip: If you don’t have the time for a full mask, mix a little bit of baking soda into your cleanser for a light exfoliating treatment.

***

HAIR MASK

Simply mix one tablespoon of honey with a sizeable amount of olive oil, rub into hair, and leave on for at least 20 minutes (optimal is overnight, just wrap your hair in a plastic grocery store bag).

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

On Gratitude: Kaleb






It is late in the day, a day filled with cleaning, applying for jobs at fitness studios, buying Christmas stockings, teaching a cardio class, bringing friends to the airport for a wedding, meeting another friend to borrow a training manual for a personal training certification, meeting my roommate from college for tea and talking, a late-night dinner, and more job submissions. It has been a very full day, and I am getting up in a few short hours to do some Pilates in my living room. But I am taking some time to write about gratitude. Today - and for the past five months (and then some) of my life - I am specifically grateful for Kaleb.

It is difficult to explain how Kaleb and I met. Usually, when someone asks, Kaleb sort of half-grins, looks in my general direction, and says, "Yeah, I'll let Chelsea explain that one." Kaleb and I met through my ex, who was good friends with Kaleb last fall. Although Kaleb lives far away, his presence was requested for a date lunch one day, as the ex's designated girlfriend-approver. My ex was still in the shower when Kaleb arrived at the apartment, and when I opened the door - a girl he had never seen before - he stopped, looked around dumbstruck, and waited for me to tell him that yes, he was, in fact, at the correct apartment. Our trio headed to grab hot dogs in the valley, Kaleb being the quieter type, but making a highly inappropriate joke about situps - which shall remain a secret - that nearly made me pee my pants in the backseat of the car. At lunch, I offered to get him a refill on his soda, and he looked at me, and responded, as though I was insane. Despite our wacky first meeting, we connected as friends, and found out we had a lot in common. Over the coming months, we talked more and more online - since Kaleb is about an hour and a half outside of Los Angeles - and helped each other deal with problems that came up, including the finality of two very sour relationships ending. Kaleb had been out of a relationship for several years, I had found out some disturbing things about my ex by this point, and we finally got to hang out in person. Nearly kicking and screaming (not really, but it took a lot of invites to finally get the guy to hang out with me), Kaleb came down for a little birthday party I threw him in May, where I got to meet some of his friends. We had only seen each other twice before in person, but we had spent so much time talking online that it was like seeing an old friend. A few weeks later, Kaleb graciously came down to help us move into our house, and by June - after many failed hints and me finally breaking down and sending a box of brownies which read, in M&Ms, "I Like You" (which Kaleb dreadfully opened at work, to the chagrin of his fellow employees) - we were dating. The rest is history. Or, I should say, our history is being written day by day. But I know this much: I have found the man of my dreams, and he was, and continues to be, worth every moment of heartbreak and sorrow it took to get to him.

I don't exactly know how to go about describing Kaleb, because, when that question is posed to me, the question of, "well what is he like?", my voice grows quiet and my smile takes over, just glowing as I think about where to begin.
Kaleb is a rare gem, a perfect example of chivalry in a society where that is an antiquated - yet much needed - trait. He opens every door, including the car door. He always offers to drive, and rolls his eyes when I stubbornly say it's my turn. He holds my hand in public. He has no shame about hugging and kissing in the middle of Trader Joe's, so in love and perfect that the guy re-stocking the wine selection jokingly says, "get a room," at which Kaleb and I smile. He adores his great grandmother to the point that we make her homemade birthday cards and talk about going over to just have tea and talk, which he says she would love. He acts like a big brother to his friends, and gives advice on whatever is asked, without being overbearing. He is steady and quiet, yet loyal as can be, and his sense of humor never fails to make me laugh, even when the world seems like too much. He is thoughtful to the point of making me tissue paper flowers, which I can keep forever, because he knows I love flowers and can't always be there to buy them for me at Whole Foods, when he sees my eyes light up at the sight of lilies and downright insists on buying them. He is happy with what he has, whether that be incredible food at a surprise birthday dinner for me, or our meal of leftovers at home by a fire, talking until four in the morning, because it's cheaper - and quite frankly, cozier - than a date out. He is kind beyond reason, forgoing sleep and work to hold me or to talk to me if I am overwhelmed or sad, always putting himself last and everyone else in his life first. He is devoted, cleaning up all of the dishes, at his own house and at mine, because he knows how hard his dad works, and how I'm usually the one who does it here. He works harder than many people my parents' age, taking two jobs on while going to college, and all the while keeping it to himself. He strengthens my faith in God, explaining how our relationship is what has made him believe in soulmates, and describing his theory that, "we're going to be okay; God brought us together, to each other, and he figures that we can do the rest, that we can take care of each other now." He keeps me childish and playful, which I am so lucky for, because he will still let me tickle him to death, and will still be just as excited to make crayon artwork with me, when we are ninety. He is as stubborn as I am - a very, very difficult thing to be - but because of it, brings balance to my opinions. He is quietly charming, turning to me at our first dinner with my father, which happens to be at a nice seafood restaurant, and whispering, "Babe, why did the waitress put that knife in front of me?", as I smile and respond that it's not for the table's bread, but for the steak he has ordered. He is handsome as the day is long, with loving eyes that mirror my own deep hope for our future, and a smile that makes me melt, no matter how frustrated or pensive I may be. He is patient, realizing that an education, a puppy, and a relationship all take time and care to flourish. He is gentle, offering a massage or a soothing word or kiss at the end of a long day. He is loving, always wanting to cuddle as we fall asleep at night, talking about our dreams for the future and about how blessed we truly are. He is my lucky star, my compass, my "other half", as we like to say.

I sometimes joke about where he was hiding for the first twenty-three years of my life, but I know one thing; that even if, after ten years, I have decided that acting in Los Angeles is not for me, I will be forever grateful to it for leading me to Kaleb.

I am
so grateful for this.
I will wait as long as it takes.

On Giving: A Healthy Recipe for a Pumpkin Spice Latte

It is officially fall - heck, it's almost Thanksgiving - and who doesn't love pumpkin this time of year?? Here's a delicious recipe that you can make at home (sugar and dairy-free!)

*2 Tbsp Pumpkin
*1/4tsp Pumpkin Pie Spice
*1c Milk of Choice (I prefer unsweetened almond or coconut)
*1tsp Vanilla Extract
*Truvia or Honey to taste

Whisk the above ingredients together, then add in:

*3-4 Tbsp Strong Coffee

..and whisk again. Voila! For an added festive touch, add some whipped cream on top.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Gratitude & Giving

Where do I begin?

It has been a long, long time since I have sat down to write. I miss writing dearly. In the moments when inescapable reality sits on my shoulders and I can't stand up, I generally resort to one of the following: ninety minutes of intense, sweat-covered yoga, thoroughly cleaning or crafting to classical music, cooking and baking for loved ones, or writing. There is something therapeutic and calming about these activities. Perhaps it is the fact that I am able to focus on a steady task with a goal, the outcome of which I have total control over. Perhaps it is the freedom that comes with creative whimsy, which exists and flourishes, regardless of perceived financial limitation or excess. I don't know. Perhaps it is the opportunity to invest worried and frenetic energy into a healing gift of nourishment for someone I deeply care about. With writing, it is a chance to lasso the tornado of the mind, the barrage of noise and ricochets of emotion, and to sit calmly in the eye of the storm. And I adore it. It is like seeing an old, old friend for the first time in a long time and simply saying, "ah, there you are." A smile of instant relief and comfort.

It has been over a year since I began writing about my life in Los Angeles, and this time around, things still seem as precarious as ever. But one thing has changed, and that is that I have settled somewhat into my own skin. The need to be perfect has eased over these past months, and I have begun to accept - and even to embrace - the imperfections, the flaws in my body and in my character. It is so nice, so soothing, to look at this industry, and at this world, and to say, "Here I am, this is me; take it, or leave it." The funny thing is that more often than not, you find that people take the imperfect, because it is true, because it is trustworthy.

Let's see where my life is at right now..

I spent the last two months being considered for the part of the Pink Power Ranger, on a show I grew up watching (and even went to the Houston convention for, with my dad and my sister, after she won tickets from a random gas station raffle). I made it through three rounds of auditions, including the producer's session. I wore pink and black, including a pink ranger tee shirt, which I stumbled upon at Hot Topic one day. I kicked and practiced routines in my living room, for my roommates and my boyfriend, who gave me tips and feedback and wished me luck every time I drove to Culver City for the next round. Because this will be the 20th anniversary of the show, and because it is the number one show on Nickelodeon, the producers have pushed back casting until March or April of 2012. It took me two months of waiting and hoping and stressing to find this out. And the lesson was this: you have to live life for the day, for the moment. There are zero guarantees, and it's better that way; you take less for granted.

I spent eight weeks training in spinning and pilates, for an hour or more each day, to find out that the studio was willing to pay hardly anything for instructors. So I am getting certified as a spinning instructor this Saturday to take matters into my own hands. What did I get out of the process? Well, beyond some nicely-toned legs, I learned that you always ask up front, because it's not personal, it's business. I also realized that I don't need a gym or a studio to stay fit. I recorded my own pilates workout, and now myself and one of my best friends do it together at my house, two mornings a week, from 5-6am. I learned that there are multiple doors.

I spent hours each day scouring Craigslist for odd jobs here and there, just to make a little cash to help pay the bills. This led me to an interview with an agency for a permanent fit model position (I did subbing for this last fall and loved it), and I am going to meet with them this week to sign my contract, which will open a whole set of new opportunities. I learned that even in Hollywood, you get out what you put in. For a long time this summer, I was frustrated, because some people come to Los Angeles and never succeed as an actor. Jenna Fisher, who plays Pam on "The Office", talks about how, at some point, you have to realize that you love acting enough to do it without the crazy paycheck, and that is success. The amount of energy you invest in yourself is what you get in return.

With all of these things, I have tried to see the positive. Kaleb has been a help beyond words, and now I have adorable Iggy, as well as a Christmas tree in my living room. Our house is cold, because we can't afford to heat it. But with the combination of the above loveliness, I am able to stay cheerful. This may be the first Christmas that I spend away from my family, yet I have one of the best families around, with dedicated and selfless parents, and incredible, yet silly, siblings, who are my two closest friends in the entire world. So from now until Christmas - 48 days - I am focusing what could become sour energy on something I am grateful for, and considering how good I really have it. I have a feeling that, at 80 years of age, the things I am doing now and the people I am doing them with will stand out in my memory, while the finances and daily struggles will have vanished. I hope I have laugh lines then. That is the thankfulness part. Today, I am thankful for Iggy being healthy again, after a full recovery from Parvo. Atta boy.

The giving part.. hm. I do not have very much to give. But one thing I learned from watching the claymation version of "The Little Drummer Boy", which my mom recorded from tv onto a VHS tape when we were kids, is that a little is a lot to someone. So I will give by posting as often as I can, in the hopes that someone out there actually enjoys reading these little tidbits and thoughts. I will post a healthy recipe or a workout daily, so that I can give my loved ones, friends and family who could use it, the gift of health this holiday season.

"To share a simple kindness could set your heart aflame,
and you'll get more than you'll ever give away."

Boy, if that isn't the truth.