40-Day Bare Face: Day 7 - Hallowed

This morning, I’m wearing black, white, and red, a favorite combination of mine. I really enjoy wearing something that is at once very classic and also vibrant and high-contrast. I associate black and white lines with text, which is obviously a favorite thing of me, and red with fire, power, passion, beauty, and love—so that color, anywhere, brings me great joy. I have a long and deep relationship with the color red, and my preference for it is insurmountable.

I don’t love many things as much as I love the color red.

I declared something else “my favorite” the other day, and a friend dismissed it with “Yeah, well, you pretty much have a favorite EVERYTHING.”

It’s true. I do. I declare “favorites” all the time, and it’s not just that I’m prone to hyperbole.

Declaring “favorites” stems from an innate impulse to hallow things—to take that which is good and declare it sacred.

Set apart.  

Important.

I want to mark something as so good it must belong to God.

Sometimes I declare someone to be “my favorite”. Often I’m referring to someone else, but sometimes I look right at a person and say, “You. You are my favorite.”  Another friend dismissed this as “Jess, you have a lot of people who are your favorites. That doesn’t mean much.”

But that’s not true. It means everything. What I mean is that in that moment, I have powerfully understood that you (my favorite) are fearfully and wonderfully made. I know it. Right here. Right now. I have seen that your presence in this day is a great gift from God to us so we must worship.

In that moment, a debt of gratitude to our Creator drives my affection for you. Or, my affection for you reminds me of my gratitude debt to our Creator.

(I also fear I can’t afford to run around spouting that hallowing speech without sounding like a lunatic. I temper my passion with the word “favorite” so people don’t run away and I don’t lose further opportunity to hallow them. )

To spend my days on the hunt for new favorites, as I do, is to mine my days for the sacred.

You see, I am hungry for the sacred—I believe sacraments of God’s presence are in the very ordinary, and the act of hallowing brings us present with His presence.

I just caught my reflection in the mirror, and my black, white, and red really calls attention to my lack of makeup. It’s a crime against the color red to wear this gorgeous scarf (from a friend) without its matching lipstick. Black clothes make my features even more pale and I can’t find my eyes. Discouraged, I suddenly recalled these lines, from a favorite poem of mine. “Love took my hand and smiling did reply/ ‘Who made the eyes but I?’”

That poem is one of my favorite representations of God's voice. I’ll let the poem speak for itself, but I offer it to you. .  

Maybe you, too, will feel compelled to make it a “favorite.”

LOVE (III)
by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
        Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
        From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
        If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
        Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
        I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
        "Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
        Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
        "My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
        So I did sit and eat.

40-Day Bare Face: Day 5 - Liturgy & Lipstick

Alarm. Why. so.early. Who do I need to kill for this?  What day is it?

Sunday. Church. What am I going to wear?

I should have set my clothes out last night.  

I need coffee before I can solve this problem.

I have that red sweater clean. We’ll go with that.

 Oooh. That red sweater means red lipstick.

Yesssss…I love Today, I just decided.

Ok. Hair. I like the buttons on the back of that sweater, so I should probably put it up.

Hmm. It’s still curly from last night. Ponytail with a red ribbon. And a braid in front. Done.

I love this ribbon.  I think it came on that Christmas present from Mom.

 Man. I want to make things beautiful like she always does.

Wow. You can tell I had a good time last night. Those are some DARK circles.

Don’t care. It was worth it. That was a good beer. And everyone knows I’ll lose sleep for conversation like that, no question.  That thing he said… I wonder if he meant…? I must remember to follow up with him about that thought…eh. I’m probably the only one who’s still caring about that point. Still…

Where is my MAC concealer? That’ll help. Man. I love this Laura Mericer powder. It sure evens things out. I hope it lasts through this crazy day.

This reminds me of that conversation I had with Cortney about blonds having blotchy skin. Go ahead and try, you olive-skinned, dark-featured people. You JUST TRY to understand what we blondes are dealing with here. Yeah. “Blondes have more fun”, but we have to work a little harder to make sure last night's "fun" doesn’t show the next day.

There. That’s nice and even.

Even, but pale. Now some blush so I don’t look dead.

Ok, if I’m doing red lipstick, and this is church, minimal eyes.

 Don’t kid yourself. You don’t even know what “minimal” means. It’s all you can do to neglect those false eyelashes over there.

True. But I do NOT need false eyelashes for a Sunday. Technically, I don’t need them ever. #firstworldproblems and all that.

Besides, this is great mascara. I am glad the Sephora girl pointed it out.

Yikes. I look like a Kewpie Doll. Where is that lash comb? Ooh. I bet this other mascara will make them longer. And one more coat for good measure.

Eyeliner. Today? Like the Pan Am girls. Those are such cool cat eyes. I was born in the wrong era. Whoops. Too much. Fix that. We’re not going for Amy Winehouse, here. 

This MAC gel liner looks like a pot of fountain pen ink. I love that I get to put it on my face. Maybe that was Amy Winehouse’s problem. She liked the feel of gel liner, too.

No. That was NOT Amy Winehouse’s problem. She had bigger ones. She really needed Jesus. And less drugs. No drugs. She needed NO drugs. And real mercy for all that pain. Lord, I don’t know of  any, but I know there are people in Your church today with hearts that hurt like hers. Please have mercy on them. Bring them comfort and freedom. Show me how I can help.

Where is my eyeliner brush?  I have GOT to clean out this bag. I don’t need all this stuff.

I don’t need all this stuff. Now I sound like Lindsay.

But I DO need this new Urban Decay Shadow! I forgot I had that!

I can’t believe I’m donning an eye shadow called “Sin” for a Sunday Morning. I’m probably going to hell for that. Oh great. My other one is called “Midnight Cowboy Rides Again.”  If I don’t tell people that, no one will ask what he was riding… They might ask, though, why I have glitter on my face. Don’t care. This eyeshadow is pretty and I can wear what I want. But “Midnight Cowboy…” to church??

Ok. This is funny but it’s also Sunday morning. I need to get my head in the game.

God, grant me the ability to see Your people with Your eyes, this morning. Holy Spirit, please begin now bringing me present with Your Presence and the Father’s people.

Where's my...?  That’s right. I left my lipstick in my Kate Spade bag from last night. I think I’ll just keep using this bag today. It goes with my sweater.

It’s a good weekend when I get two days in Dior Red lipstick AND my Kate Spade bag. Remember Lord? Remember when you gave me this bag? And my lipstick was a gift from mom, too—or, YOU, rather, but through Mom. Thank you for blessing me with such vibrant beauty I can carry and wear. It's hard to forget you love me with these.

Oh! I can also wear my Kate Spade London Calling Bracelet from Beth! I LOVE that bracelet.  God, bless Beth and Ben today. Bless them the way they have blessed me.

Lipstick. I came out of the bathroom for my lipstick. Ooh. There’s a little coffee left. Ok. Finish coffee. Brush Teeth. THEN Lipstick.

Where’s my watch? Bathroom Counter. Damn. Is it really that late? 

Guess I’ll do my lipstick in the car. 

40-Day Bare Face: Day 2 - Shorn

Happy Valentine's Day.

The visceral response to this holiday really struck me today. I work in an office where I saw--all before lunch-- the full spectrum of all this holiday has to offer:  from a love note delivered every hour on the hour and carefully arranged on (his) desk or florist delivery vans out my window, to the people wearing black making snarky comments about commercialism and feigning to mask envy and resentment with irony and coolness. The magnitude of these responses to a fairly ordinary day betrays there's more going on in our hearts than most of us are willing to admit.

I am having my own response to Valentine's day. First, it's my parents' anniversary. I don't care who you are, it's a big deal when marriages last that long. Second, a couple friends have their birthdays today, one of whom we bullied against his will into celebrating--a kind of thing that warranted a real plan.  Birthdays are a big deal to me, and woe is the holiday that tries to win out over one. Hands down, birthdays take the cake.

Let the record show I actually like Valentine's day. I always have. It would be hard for me NOT to love a day devoted to celebration, appreciation, affection, mail, stationery, chocolate, flowers, and the color red. I consider it National Red Lipstick Day.

(Pictured is the best red lipstick of all time. It's Rouge Dior Rouge Favori from Nordstroms. If I had my way, I'd wear it every day for the rest of my life and then be buried in it. Note: If I look great--and more important, thrilled to be alive--I am most surely wearing this.)

Today, though, is Day 2 of the 40-Day Bare Face. My lenten fast rules out wearing my favorite way to mark the day I like with what I love. I feel like I lost something--like something was taken from me and now I'm noticeable and exposed. One might think that the red lipstick would make a woman noticeable and exposed, and it does, but this is not that kind.

Noticeable and exposed--bereft.

I feel shorn.

I came across a French proverb that translates, "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb".

And today seems to be a windy one for the shorn.

Sometimes our comfort isn't in stilling the wind. Sometimes it's in  trusting that even that which cuts cruelly is only a cool breeze--one that's already been tempered by the Good Shepherd.

40-day Bare Face : Day 1 - Fragile

I am undertaking the most intensive lenten fast I've ever done. I am abstaining from a few things, stepping away from a ministry that has defined my days for the last two years, but most obviously, I'm committed to no makeup for the season. There are a couple feast-day exceptions, but today I began the longest time without my lovely mask since I was 13 yrs old. I feel fragile and transparent. I feel like I can't see clearly (or be seen clearly) without my mascara.

But all I want to see is Jesus. I want to see His face when I catch my reflection in the mirror, and hear His voice answer the question, "Am I enough?".

The next few steps on the path of obedience for me are excruciating ones. But I take them with hope that there is beauty beyond them and with faith that this path leads to freedom. Two things today lent language to my head and heart.

First,

" Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day.  For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."  (2 Corinthians 4:16-18)

And second, this excerpt from Ch. 7: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in the Narnia series. This is where Eustace recounts how he went from having been stranded in a greedy dragon's body to his new self in new clothes: 

"I looked up and saw the very last thing I expected:
a huge lion coming slowly toward me.
And one queer thing was that there was no moon last night,
but there was moonlight where the lion was. So it came nearer and nearer.
I was terribly afraid of it. You may think that, being a dragon,
I could have knocked any lion out easily enough. But it wasn't that kind of fear.
I wasn't afraid of it eating me, I was just afraid of it -- if you can understand.
Well, it came close up to me and looked straight into my eyes.
And I shut my eyes tight. But that wasn't any good because it told me to follow it."

"You mean it spoke?"

"I don't know. Now that you mention it, I don't think it did.
But it told me all the same. And I knew I'd have to do what it told me,
so I got up and followed it. And it led me a long way into the mountains.
And there was always this moonlight over and round the lion wherever we went.
So at last when we came to the top of a mountain I'd never seen before and
on the top of this mountain there was a garden -
trees and fruit and everything. In the middle of it there was a well. . . .

"Then the lion said -- but I don't know if it spoke --
'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws,
I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now.
So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.

"The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart.
And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt.
The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of
feeling the stuff peel off. You know -- if you've ever picked the scab
off a sore place. It hurts like billy -- oh but it is such fun to see it coming away."

"I know exactly what you mean," said Edmund.

"Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off -- just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt -- and there it was lying on the grass:
only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobly-looking than the others had been.
And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been.
Then he caught hold of me -- I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath
now that I'd no skin on -- and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything
but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I
started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm.
And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again.

...I think you saw Aslan," Edmund said"

Top-five things I learned from Jennifer Strahl

Continuing the series, my greatest friends have been my greatest teachers.

Top-5 Lessons I learned from Jennifer Strahl:

1. The line between dressing and costuming is a fine one, and it's worth crossing occasionally.

2. What this situation needs is cupcakes.

3. If some is good, more is better.

4. You can be fearless if you have a map.

5. Never underestimate what Love can accomplish.

When I first started at MVA, people in my life observed some very strange behavior in me. I always had one response to their questions:

1. "Why do you do the school musical/play/Christmas pageant, etc?" Because Jen does.

2. "Why are you on the academic team, again? Why are you 'chasing the Nerd Herd'?" Because Jen does.

3. "Why are you adopting your students as sons/daughters/nieces/nephews/pets, again?" Because Jen does.

4. "Why are YOU listening to Dave Matthews, Paul Simon, Justin Timberlake, and house music?"Because Jen does.

5. "And just why are you going all the way to Winter Park for that?" Because Jen does.

And if you know the two of us well, you know this is only the beginning of the list.

H is for Happy Birthday

It is the fourth anniversary of my blog, and my 29th birthday. Or at least it was when I started this post.

A friend said that after today, I'm rolling toward 30 like a snowball headed for Hell. It's a colorful analogy, but I'm hoping its loaded with hyperbole.

I had a really lovely birthday. I got a badass leather jacket in the mail from my mom, as well as trip to Nordstroms in a little silver box. My sister-friend mailed me new Stila red lipstick, the Stila Paris palette, and some Chocolate shortbread made from pure crushed cacao. I had to work, but I got to go with Shannon for some life-changing pumpkin cheesecake at the Cheesecake factory.

I was so delighted by the sweets and the bits of glamour, but it was the Coleman kids who gave me a great birthday. Faith and Zach, who are 6 and 8 respectively, stormed my room at 7am to wake me with a big "Happy Birthday!". Zach had arranged all my presents by "my seat" on the couch. Kaelyn had scribbled a giant "Happy Birthday" all over the mirrors that I use. There would be NO missing her salutations. And then, when I got my coffee and curled up on the couch, there was the big reveal of the Coleman birthday tradition: The Birthday Turtle. Here he is:

The birthday turtle sings "Happy Birthday" and marches around. Faith informed me that everyone in our family gets to have the Birthday Turtle sing to them. And there it was. Everyone in our family. On my birthday, the Coleman kids did all the things that mark the special days of family members.

When I lived in Florida, I loved my birthday because of the fuss my students made and the chance to throw a party. Even though we were too busy to spend time together often, birthday parties were not missed. Once a year, I could be surrounded by my favorite people. This is a really important occasion for a single person who lived alone. There was one day when the warmth and celebration was more powerful than the sense of solitude and loneliness.

This year, I didn't have to manufacture the occasion. When the warmth and celebration found me, I noticed the loneliness and solitude were gone for the first time in years. This year I got the birthday turtle because I'm part of something to celebrate--full time. Every day.

Red-Letter Day

It was the end of the day before I noticed how great it was. It was the first day I felt like I was on summer vacation. I know I'm starting it about a week behind everyone else, but today is what it's all about.

I woke up to a relatively clean apartment, which I actually had time to tidy yesterday. I drank the full press of coffee, Whole Foods Organic Red Sea Blend. Delicious. I didn't have to leave any behind or carry it around with me. I could quietly savor it all.

I didn't have to rush through my morning routine; instead, I took delight in each unhurried cosmetic step.

I met my mom and sister for shopping at Millenia, something I haven't done in more than a year. I haven't had an outing with the girls in too long, and the shopping between moms and daughters and sisters is a grand and uniquely wonderful thing.

And then I found some great, and I mean great sales. The best one? My favorite designer jeans, normally embarrassingly expensive, on clearance, for $28.50. Really. Weirdly, they had TWO pairs in my size. I have never owned two pairs of these at once before. In fact, I've only ever owned 2 of these cost-prohibitive pairs in the last six years.

And it didn't stop there! Everywhere I went, it was like there was fairydust sprinkled by the Sale Fairy (who's never before been this powerful) and everything I wanted to buy was magically 70% off!!

I am not sure if my belief in the Sale Fairy is a sign I should shop more, or less, by the way.

During lunch, I got to see the U.S. come back in the second half to tie Slovenia, even if the win was stolen from us by the worst referee in South Africa.

And we had lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, which is so glamorous and lovely, and also had the soccer game on in the bar.

We hurried home and I got to meet a friend at Gator's to watch the England match. The game was poor, but the company was great, the conversation enlightening, and the beer so good I almost forgot about Wayne Rooney's uselessness.

My dad came home today, and he was in good form. I'm looking forward to a laid-back weekend celebrating Father's Day.

Finally, I had dinner tonight with my dear friends Jon and Anna, who met me for pizza. I have to confess, I had pizza twice today. It is (unfortunately, for health reasons) one of my very favorite foods. And this was two sets of fine, fresh, gourmet pizza. I'd call any day where a person can twice eat great versions of her favorite food a good day on its own, let alone all of this one's other shining moments.

Last, Jon and Anna are some of my very favorite people. I laughed so hard tonight the people around us were maybe a little annoyed. When I recounted my day to them, it was Anna who totaled it up and pronounced it a really great day.

I could only agree and hope to recognize the next great day for myself before its over.

Christmas Presents

This year I made most of my gifts for family and friends. Below is a set of paintings Ben commissioned for his sister-in-law(He chose the colors) , and at the very bottom is a jewelry set I made for my sister. I'm really quite proud of these!

Acrylic, 12x12

Detail 1

Detail 2

Necklace, Bracelet, and Earrings, Ribbon Closure
turquoise and silver glass

Christmas Traditions

Each year, my mom buys us a Hallmark ornament to commemorate something important to us from the year, or because the ornament shows one of our favorite things. We are each responsible for hanging our respective set of ornaments on the three. Some ornaments have a lost history, resulting in the occasional fight over ownership. These ornaments, however, have unmistakable owners.

Dad's. Obviously.

Mine, from the year I declared an English Major

Lindsay's, from the year she got Baron--her blond, deranged spaniel

Mine, from my year as captain on the Drumline

Tim's, because the kid carried a blanket until high school (not really.)

Christmas Lovelies

My mom was Real Life's Christmas Decoration task force this year, and it spilled over into her home. She put up three trees and put Martha Stewart to shame with the present wrapping. All of her Christmas festivity was so lovely I couldn't resist taking photos.

Notebooks

This summer, I started making my own books. I really love my Moleskine, but I wanted something with the same design of different sizes, distinct appearance, and varying page count. I need to tell one notebook from another.

From my moleskine design, I kept:

• blank, non-lined paper (a must! also hard to find in notebooks instead of sketchbooks)
  
• a closure
• a hard cover
  
• pocket
  
• a bookmark ribbon
  
• and hand-sewn pages that lay fully flat

I added:

• unique cover art
• varying page count
  
• wider page width

I have made about twenty now, and I gave most away as gifts. This is my most recent and some of my most favorite work:

Travel top-fives

I've spent a lot of time in airports this week, which got me thinking about my travel routines, particularly when I travel alone.


Five things I always do in an airport:

1. Buy magazines. I rarely indulge my appreciation for the Economist or The New Yorker.
2. Buy a bottle of water-- because I can't carry one through security.
3. People Watch. I usually travel alone, so while I am in the airport, there is a constant internal commentary on the people I see and the fiction I impose on them.
4. Wish I were carrying less.
5. Try not to look like an amateur. I don't know why I care or where this comes from. I always walk with purpose and go through security with the efficiency of a person who does this every day. I really don't, but this mindfulness let's me internally judge all of the other apparent "amateurs".

Five things I consider irreplaceable
I can't live without them.
Ironically, they are the five things I must have when I travel, which is where I am most likely to lose them.

1. My makeup bag--It's taken me years to find just the right versions of everything and to acquire that designer collection.
2. My Notebook--It's always worse on the way home, because I'd have lost my most recent travel notes.
3. My ipod. I shouldn't have to explain this one.
4. My pen. Since I spend so much time by myself, I always want to write more. This requires a good pen, but then if I lose one of my pens here, I'll never get it back.
5. My red messenger bag. I got this one in Florence, Italy, after years of searching and saving. It has all of the right travel pockets, including one for my boarding pass, drivers' license, and phone. I often get compliments on it; it's distinctive and beautiful, as well as (for me) uncommonly utilitarian.

The Witches of Macbeth

My Birthday

French Fete

I am really excited about my birthday this weekend. I'm hosting a French wine tasting, which promises to be a night filled with cheesy berets, eyeliner mustaches, and something other than Chianti (my obsessive favorite).

Here are the beautiful invitations and envelopes my friend Melissa made for the event:

Some Favorite Things

Old World Florida

Because of my sister's wedding, my spring break plans were in the air for a long time--which, as all procrastination does, resulted in me going nowhere.

This is particulary troubling because I get antsy from living in the wrong place. It is not that my apartment is wrong, or my state is wrong, it is that I am wholly convinced my continent is wrong. Those who know me well agree that I should have been born European.

And if I can't live in Europe, I need to at least be in a city that affords high culture and art. Through and through, I am a city girl--which is about the opposite from where I live and work.

For months I have been craving a city fix, so Spring break was crucial.

In spite of being grounded to Florida, and all of its theme-park superficiality, thanks to a good, gourmet friend, I have had quite the Old-World week, including yesterday.

• On Monday we went to the Vatican exhibit and had authentic Spanish food.
• Tuesday was a languid day including a Siesta.
• Wednesday, we wandered around downtown Orlando (not much of a city to speak of, but still tall buildings) with a glamourous lunch and cocktail-dress shopping.
• Thursday I met a friend for coffee and we sat outside Starbucks, cafe style, people watching and drinking coffee, enjoying the weather for hours. (If I was fixed enough on my friend and the poetry we were reading, I could maybe forget it was Hwy 50 behind me)
  

And Friday was my most European day--We spent the the whole day Gourmet shopping, then I cooked a fabulous Italian dinner. My purchases yesterday include:

--Crème fraîche
--Deep, Italian-Roast coffee
--Extra-Sharp, aged English cheddar cheese
--Greek chicken to cook for dinner
--Rome baking apples
--Fresh Romano cheese
--Mille Course-ground Dijon
--Baguette
--Basil plant
--a bottle of Carpineto Dogajolo
--a bottle of Tuscan Chianti that had a picture of Carvaggio's Bacchus.
--Banfi Rosa Regale

I had a great lunch, courtesy of Fresh Market, of a cranberry chutney, gouda, and turkey sandwhich, with Salt and Vinager crisps and Orangina!

For dinner I used my romano cheese to make a red-pepper sauce. (I sauteed the peppers in red wine with a few cloves of garlic then put it all in a blender with the cheese and screme fraiche) I put the sauce on the greek chicken and handmade QuattroFromaggio tortelli (courtesy of Fresh Market) and we have a feast!

For being stuck in Orlando, it sure was an Old World week.

Christmas List

I checked the refrigerator today when I got home for "tree-festooning," and all of my siblings had their Christmas lists posted. The problem with posting things on the fridge is that you can't add hyperlinks; one may look at a written list, but there is no compulsion to click on it. So I posted mine in the family pile, but here is where you can add specifics and pictures.

So, without further adieu, the interactive Christmas List:

• long sleeve JCrew tshirts. (XL, holiday red, black, and sapphire)


• a weekly London Engagement Calendar


• bookends


• a pretty inkwell


• The Blair Decade, PBS video


• Moleskine City Books, Boston and Dublin


• Moleskin large plain notebook


• Magnetic Poetry (I have never owned a set and always wanted one.)


• Levenger Ink in cobalt blue and emerald


• Style 101, from InStyle


• Elements of Style by Strunk & White (mine has dissappeared)


• This is Not a Book, by Michael Picard


• England, England, by Julian Barnes


• Joshua Tree, U2


• Under the Table and Dreaming, Dave Matthews


• Crash, Dave Matthews


• Stars: The Best of the Cranberries, 1992-2002


• Stella by Stella McCartney


• Weekly Subscription to The Washington Times


• A Subscription to Paste magazine.


• Anything from my Amazon Wishlist


• Anything from my Sephora Wishlist

I seem to have posted a series of shallow, materialistic lists. I will make a real post later.