The Makeup Artist

My secret to keeping a youthful appearance? Having a young makeup artist. His application techniques are unorthodox, and he takes a lot of bold risks with color and shading, but I always feel so glam when he’s around.

Thank You

Thank you to everyone who shared such sweet birthday wishes with me yesterday! I enjoyed the memories that popped up with each name and notification, and I‘m grateful to have you all in my network. Danke sehr!

Here’s to 38

It’s my birthday!!! And I got exactly what I wanted: sitting around barefoot with a big chocolate cake in my lap. But then I got a phone call from the local Mercedes dealer: when would I like to come pick up my birthday gift to test drive for a weekend before going in to customize it? 

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First Day Out

My first adventure out of the house! I figured the supermarket would be easy enough. I WAS WRONG! It‘s Easter weekend, and today is the only day the shops are open. Zee Germans are packed in here, moving with a speed and aggression I haven’t seen since the last 10 minutes of “Supermarket Sweep.”

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All About the Girls

That post-op tube top is so stylish!

I’m home from the hospital now. I got my first peek at my “new” breasts when my surgeon pulled the drains and changed the dressing in her clinic.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel my chest drop down to my belly button, didn’t feel the tug on my shoulders. Even with the bruises and stitches now, my breasts look and, most importantly, feel so much better.

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Butterscotch Bits

Feeling super glamorous hugging bags of frozen vegetables and butterscotch bits. 

Drinking lots of tea and multivitamin juice, too. The pharmacy didn’t have the pineapple extract ready, so I get that tomorrow. It’s mostly razor burn pain. Very intense razor burn.

Surgery Day

10:52 am: Surgery underwear and gown. The heat wasn’t turned on in my hospital room until just a moment ago, and it briefly snowed here in Stuttgart the other day, so, you know, it’s cold. I’m holding off on slipping into these bad boys until the last possible moment. 

11:14 am: I just learned I will be wearing compression leg warmers, too. Equally as charming as the gown and gauze, I assure you.

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Always the exhibionist.

For most of my adult life, I thought about cosmetic surgery the way I think about haute couture fashion and tiny, expensive sports cars: fun for daydreaming, but completely out of context to my life to seriously consider for myself.

Sure, I stood in front of a mirror, and pinched the fat and lifted the skin to imagine what things would look like if something was pulled here, rearranged there. I researched the surgery, compared before-and-after photos, watched the reality television shows about extreme makeovers, and yeah … I wondered.

But such a thing was too vain. Too expensive. Too extraordinary to realistically consider.

Until I went trick-or-treating with my sister.

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The Stasi Museum

We visited the Stasi Museum in what was the headquarters campus of the MfS (the Ministry for State Security) to spy, terrorize, manipulate and control its own people in East Germany. I paid a little extra to get the photography button.

This is a display depicting the enemy: Western culture, Iron Maiden, and agents of NATO. I would not have been well liked in Eastern Germany.

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