CoverGirl Lash Blast Fusion Mascara Review

I was recently sent the new CoverGirl Lash Blast Fusion mascara to review. When I first received the packaging, I was excited to find it in its usual CoverGirl glory! A nice, sleek container – thick enough to withstand huge bags with tons of stuff, but thin enough not to take up a lot of room like its predecessor - the Lash Blast in the fat orange tube.

It took me a few days to get the chance to try the mascara out, but when I did, I was mildly surprised. It brushed on smoothly, taking every strand and extending it forward.

The problem I had with the big, orange tube of Lash Blast was that it never gave me length – just fullness. And my eyelashes are ridiculously short.

The Fusion mascara gave me some length – not a lot of it – but enough to show that I actually had eyelashes.

The color was a nice, deep black. I prefer the darkest blacks so my eyelashes look thicker and more prominent. I curled my lashes beforehand, so the mascara gave them an extra boost.

All in all, this was a delightful mascara to try. I’ve been sporting it lately with some false eyelashes and I have to say that along with it being a mascara, it’s a great glue to hold your real lashes and false ones together!

Ratings from 1-5:

• Thickness: 4
• Length: 3
• Color: 5
• Curl: 2

This wasn’t a bad mascara, but it certainly isn’t the best – however, I do prefer it over the other types of mascaras that CoverGirl has out at the moment.

Forgiveness & its Risks

People tend to walk all over me somtimes.

Not because I let them, but because half the time, I don’t realize that they’re doing it.

I won’t say that I’m weak or too nice or too oblivious, but I am so unconcerned with these matters, that they just never come to light until way later.

I’ve forgiven two friends at fault this summer. Two. And when I forgive, I do it with passion. I like to see the good in people and I take excuses and reasons into consideration. I listen with understanding ears. I try to remember the great times. And then I feel that a second chance – or fifty – is a good idea because there was a point in the friendship when things were glorious.

What I don’t appreciate, however, is not receiving the same benefit. Yes, I forgave you, and yes, we’re friends, but this doesn’t mean that things automatically go back to the way they used to be. I won’t make you promises and when I do, I might not keep them, but that’s because our friendship is still new. I won’t go out of my way to please you – especially with memories of you being both a shitty person and friend.

So if you ever accuse me of being an absent friend or not keeping my promises, just remember that you had done that same a million times before – and just when it’s my turn to make the same mistake, I’m immediately burned at the cross because you’re a self-righteous asshole who believes they deserve the best.

Guess what, baby? You don’t.

Foto Fuck & Quotes: Pink Wink

“Memory is a giggling sprite and will not be tamed. She takes flight the moment the present becomes the past.”

“You asked me who I thought I was before. I said maybe I was a fish because I love water. ‘If you were a mermaid’, you said, ‘if you were a mermaid, I was the sea.”

“It may have just been a moment to you, but it changed every single one that followed for me.”

Haven

*Note: picture above is not my room! It’s currently a mess.

There’s something about being in my room that makes me feel so safe.

I pretty much do everything in my bedroom. I watch television, write, read, eat, develop brilliant ideas .. you know, the usual.

Although my room is missing one very crucial thing – an actual door with a lock, I still love the security that it gives me. I don’t know what it is, but being in here, in a place that’s my very own – with things that are mine – it’s like being in a completely different world.

I’ve plotted novels and stories – written poems about love and stupidity – everything I’ve done has been in this little room of mine. I can’t even think of one thing that I haven’t done in here.

What I find so funny is that I can concentrate, but be distracted, in here. I can sit down at my laptop, put the fingers to the keys, and prepare to continue my novel, but there is just so much going on at one time. I’m still buying textbooks in other windows, watching my favorite tv shows, listening to the air conditioner blare, figuring out my wardrobe for work, answering my Blackberry, surveying the decrepit mess that is my floor.

Shoot me now.

My room is peaceful, but stressful; and confusing as that may seem, this is the only place I could ever feel at home.

Let’s take what I expect out of the equation

I need to make a change.

Not some ordinary change – nothing I’ve done before – but something that will change everything and that will not only mend my heart but break it as well.

I want something different.

After carefully assessing the beautiful mess that is my life, I’ve decided to combat my inner demons and become more than I thought. I want something. I want to be someone. And this someone doesn’t necessarily have to be famous or rich, but what I want is fulfillment.

So, I made a list. A nice, simple, lovely list that I will try so hard to abide by – that I will keep forever in my heart until I have finished every last line.

Let’s start with the first one.

I want to lose 50 pounds. I already lost 20, but gained back 3, over the past couple of months, but I’m headed there. I have so much belief in myself when it comes to this that it terrifies me. There’s something about wanting to be healthy that will make me feel – not only more confident – but so much more proud of who I am. I remember being in my aerobics class when my trainer yelled, “I used to weigh 260 pounds. I lost all my weight. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. Don’t need it. You have to want it. Because when you want something, you will rob and destroy everything in your path just to get it.”

When she said these words, I felt something within in me – and that’s when it clicked. I wanted it.

I want to date someone who is not my type. I have such ridiculous standards that it even makes me laugh. I list off these hysterical bullets like I’ll find Mr. Blue Eyes, Bright Smile, Nice Ass, Huge Dick, Great Sense of Humor, Tons of Money. YEAH, RIGHT. I used to make these preposterous qualities because I was afraid of being with anyone, but this is going to change. It’s time to date – winners, losers, idiots, sweethearts, nice guys, bad guys.

I want to travel the world. I want to live like a gypsy. There’s something about backpacking in Europe or swimming in South East Asia that makes me feel like the world isn’t as terrible as people say it is. There’s a beauty that I want to witness in the eyes of the natives, in their languages, and especially in the way they live their lives.

I want to start opening up more. I slowly began doing this now in the summer, but I want to go all out. I want to be lively and free and say what I want when I want! God, that would feel so liberating. So here’s to saying inappropriate statements at horrible times!

I want to kiss more. I use my mouth mainly for conversing and eating and applying lipstick, but I should exercise my tongue.

I’m going to publish my novel. This isn’t an I want. This is an I know. And my soul has been connected with this novel since it’s fruition and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from finishing it, finding an agent, and publishing it for the world to read.

I’m going to be unstoppable - because the only way you can get what you want is to tell yourself that you’re going to damn well get it. And it’s even more perfect when the people who doubted you from the start begin to see the results of your glorious success.

Now, let’s go get what we fucking want.

The Last Resort

I recently went on a road trip with two of my good friends to South Carolina. One of my friends wanted to see her best friend there, a marine, and she invited me to come. I figured – why not? Marines are usually always gorgeous and I’d always wanted to revisit the south and see what’s going on.

The trip was not what I expected.

Now, before I go into extensive and gruesome detail, let me just discuss that before leaving, we established a goal for the three of us. We’d each find a marine and see where things go. I’m never the kind of girl to do these things, so I was excited at the prospect of shedding this good girl image and going bad for once.

It didn’t really go as planned.

My friend’s marine did not have a great lineup and I found myself wondering where all the beautiful marines were & why they hadn’t stumbled upon us by the grace of fate.

Before I go on with my story, here are a list of characters for you to get familiar with:

• M1 – My friend who planned the trip.
• M2 – My friend who came along.
• S – M1′s best friend who is a marine.
• B – One of S’s friends.
• J – One of S’s friends.

Are you confused yet?

If not, let’s begin.

M1 and S have this thing – this weird best friends but with benefits and love thing. It’s technically not a relationship, but it’s something, and when you throw in the fact that they were all over each other throughout the entire weekend, it’s safe to say that they feel something for each other.

S had two friends over that weekend – B & J. B was nice enough, his Southern accent was ridiculous, but J was a different and disgusting story. He reeked of alcohol constantly and was extremely racist. He claimed he hailed from California, but not Californian I know acts like a racist and self-entitled douchepack.

Guess who got stuck with J?

That’s right – yours truly.

I was not physically attracted to this guy. Not at all. And when I’m not attracted to someone, I don’t pursue them. Simple, right? M2, however, saw things differently. B wanted her – and wanted her bad – and because she wanted to achieve her goal – she hooked up with him, even after explaining to me that she felt absolutely nothing for the guy.

I couldn’t believe it. Was she really going to continue this just for a measly goal? For a ridiculous mission that we made our of nowhere? I understand the rush - the fun – of pursuing a guy – especially a man in uniform – but I knew I could never touch - let alone kiss - a guy that I was not attracted to.

The entire night was filled with everyone trying to convince me to. I was so fed up within the hour – so tired of this pushy, aggressive way of making me do something I knew I didn’t want. What made it worse was that J was trying actively as well – but in a way that freaked me out. He was touchy, verbally aggressive, and insulted me constantly. The list of things he called me: shallow, horrible, stuck up bitch.

I couldn’t believe it. I made no sign of wanting him – I did not even hint at it. I stated, clearly, that I was not interested, but even after, he pushed continuously at me – at my friends. And they went with it. For now, I will blame the alcohol. What really sealed the deal for me was when he came up behind me to dance and pinched me. Yes, you heard me right. He fucking pinched me.

Who pinches a girl? And who finds this attractive?

I was upset the entire night. Upset at him, my friends, and his friends. I resorted to making up a boyfriend to B so he could relay that information to his buddy, but to no avail. J simply stated that it didn’t matter.

I couldn’t believe this guy.

I came home and told my brother, who seemed angry about it. He said it was disrespectful. And that he knew I wasn’t that kind of girl. And that just reassured me of my morals.

I could care less if I’ve told you that was I going to fuck a million men, but when the time comes, and I’m not ready for it, I refuse to do it. I have morals for a reason. I don’t kiss men I don’t like. And I will never sleep with someone I don’t feel anything for.

Even if he’s the last damn man on earth.

On to you ladies. Would you ever hook up or sleep with a man you were not physically attracted to? Would you just do it because you said you would?

More Pictures from Syden’s Secret Soiree

The Wannabe Asshole

So, I’ve known many assholes in the past. You’ve got your assholes since birth, your developing assholes, and then you’ve got the wannabe asshole. In my perspective, the latter is the absolute worst.

I know a wannabe asshole. He’s the nice guy that was hit so many times with the same damn bow that he’s decided to turn into a douchecock because he feels like he’ll attract more girls.

Here’s the deal, Hercules, you won’t.

I’ve known this guy since I was a kid – he was that pudgy, weird dude with the glasses and the ability to answer math questions like a genius. The kid that got picked last for dodgeball and sang – a little too happily – whenever we were in chorus. He was pretty much the guy the girls flocked to when they had real guy problems.

He’s that guy that every girl seems to always hurt.

I’m a girl that has hurt him. A few months ago, we talked a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean a lot. I considered the guy a great friend of mine, and I trusted him with the most important of things. I told him my insecurities, I joked with him like I do with my girlfriends, and I found him to be such an amazing person.

What really ticked me off was that he translated this to me wanting to be with him.

Now, let me just state, that it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with him, but because, in that point in my life, I didn’t want to be with anyone. I still don’t. I feel like I want to jumpstart my career and my life first because adding anyone to this complicated equation.

He started asking me things – asking me to change for him, telling me that my sarcasm hurt him. I was literally reeling with confusion. Was this boy actually asking me to change? Who the fuck was he to ask me something like that? Did he honestly think he had that much of an impact? I don’t change for anyone – except for me.

I told him to fuck off – that if he didn’t like who I was, then he needs to stop speaking to me.

After a while, our friendship faded.

And now that we’ve begun speaking again, I find that he’s not who he used to be. He has become that guy – that wannabe asshole. It’s upsetting and pathetic and I wish it hadn’t happened, but I guess I can somewhat be blamed for it.

I just don’t understand. How can someone change who they are so quickly just because one person seemingly rejected them? Is this the norm? Do people do this?

I miss who he was and how great our friendship used to be. I miss just being friends without that added thought of being together. Oh, God damn, I miss it all.

It’s sad.