Best Lipstick Formulas 2019

Longtime readers of my blog will know that I've struggled with eyeliner for my entire makeup-wearing career, which now spans six years. One of my first ventures into makeup involved a black Maybelline pencil eyeliner, with which I drew awkward, thick lines across my upper lashline. To my credit, I soon figured out that this looked terrible, but my second attempt wasn't much better: I spent a good three years trying on and off to perfect a cat eye with a black liquid liner, Maybelline Line Stiletto in Blackest Black. I was eventually forced to conclude that the outer folds of my eyelids would always foil my attempts to wing out my liner. Cat eyes were just not going to happen for me, no matter how many articles and YouTube tutorials swore that everyone —yes, everyone — could achieve Elizabeth-Taylor-in- Cleopatra perfection. Finally, I settled on black or dark brown eyeshadow smudged along my lashlines with a narrow brush. That gave me a bit of definition without the challeng...

I just finished The Scar , the second book in China Miéville's Bas-Lag trilogy, which takes place in and around the diverse, sprawling, corrupt city of New Crobuzon. I love fiction about cities —not just set in them, but about them —and Miéville clearly shares my passion. The Scar centers on the linguist Bellis Coldwine, ex-girlfriend of the protagonist of the first Bas-Lag novel, Perdido Street Station . Fearing that New Crobuzon's militia will arrest her for knowing too much about the catastrophic events of Perdido Street Station (though in fact she knows nothing), Bellis flees the city for one of its far-flung colonies. But her ship is captured and taken to Armada, a floating pirate city built entirely on boats and ruled by a vampire, a pair of sadomasochistic lovers, a council of women with scarabs for heads, et al. So much is contained in that "et al": Miéville has an astonishingly fertile imagination, and while that occasionally works against him in Perdido ...

I've spent the past two weeks in dissertation jail, bouncing between several of San Francisco's fine coffee shops while completing an extensive rewrite of my Hobbes chapter. With the help of massive doses of caffeine, sugar, and k-pop ( I'm good, I'm hot, I'm fresh, I'm fly! ), I wrapped up the damned thing yesterday and sent it to my committee. I started writing this post a week ago and have been typing a few lines a day in my spare moments, but it feels so good to finally have enough time to finish it. Of course, I have to start reworking my job materials almost immediately after this, but today is a day of freedom. My daily view while waiting (sometimes up to 20 minutes: SF's transit system is notoriously dysfunctional) for the streetcar. As many of you know, I grew up in San Francisco and come back twice a year to visit my parents. The city has changed dramatically (mostly in the direction of aggressive gentrification) since we moved here in 1995, but a ...