Monday, October 27, 2014

In which Tryph looks at Mascara

So yeah, we've talked before about my love of makeup.  I have a fair bit, but no where near as much as some people... but more than the average bear I think.

Anyhow, I've been an ipsy subscriber  for a few months now, and for the most part have been quite impressed.  It's one of those monthly "box" subscriptions where you get makeup (either full size or sample size) every month.  I have gotten to try a lot of things I likely wouldn't have purchased on my own.

I figure since I've got all this new makeup that I've never tried, I'll try my hand at reviewing some of it.

Last month one of the items I got was Revlon Bold Lacquer Length & Volume mascara in Blackest Black.  I had to dig a bit to find the price, but it looks like it's approximately $9 at your local department store or chemist.

I was skeptical if I'm totally honest.  I've been using the likes of Urban Decay, Lancome, and Bombshell and have been very impressed (if a bit grossed out by the fact that I was spending close to $30 on a tube of mascara every few months) with them.  More often than not, you get what you pay for with most products.

My first impression was that this stuff is messy as all can be.  There were gobs of mascara all over the brush, and gooping out the top of the tube.  I'm always a bit concerned when I see this.  I don't have the steadiest of hands, so I'm apt to making a mess, and this looked like it was setting me up for trouble.

 But, I was determined to try it, so I soldiered on.
You should also know by now that I've got a flare for the dramatic, so I like my lashes to be big and bold.

I have to say I wasn't let down by this mascara.  It isn't quite as intense as I've gotten used to, but I think it makes for  great day wear.

Which is an area of makeup that I need to learn more about.

So anyhow, long story short, two coats of this stuff isn't bad at all.  let me know if you try it out and what you think.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

In which Tryph sabotages herself, with style

I've long since made peace with the fact that my personal style is going to hold me back in a lot of respects.

Currently I have purple hair (only half of it), a few tattoos that I make no effort to hide, a drawer full of vibrant makeup, more boots than the average person could shake their fist at, and a wardrobe that would be a teenage goff kid's wet dream.

There are times that I can and do dress like an adult, but even then, I do so with a bit of an edge.  What can I say?  I like my boots with dresses and skirts.  I feel like every outfit is improved by the presence of a sweet pair of doc martens.

And honestly, I've found that my crazy hair, and costuming has been more of an asset than a detractor.  I'm more approachable, or at least more people approach me.  They'll comment on my hair, my clothes.  Hell, I've even made an acquaintance of someone simply based on our mutual love of boots.

But, image is image, and I was definitely reminded of this at work the other day.  Hair colour was mentioned to me as something that "raises a flag" of concern in the workplace.  Now, I know that they weren't speaking of me (they even said as much), but it still hit a note with me.

I've never acted in an unprofessional manner in the workplace.  And even on my worst days, I'm at least as well dressed than most of my colleagues.... but because I don't fit into the world like a cookie cutter stepford type person.... I will always hold myself back.

This.. well it makes me unendingly sad.  The person who made the comments about hair, they went on to say that our eyes are our most developed sense and therefore image will always be an issue.  I just wonder if maybe we should rely less on our eyes and rely more on our brains.

(for note, this was written while wearing a headband with a skull on it.  Not quite the little hat I was hoping for, but still cute)

Monday, September 1, 2014

In which Tryph is something of a makeup junkie

Maybe I just need purpose in writing, maybe that'll help make things that much easier to get words on the screen.

Who knows.

Anyhow, I've become a bit of a makeup junkie, so I'd like to make Mondays a day where I review and talk about the different brands I've tried, my experiences and all that.

First up, DuWop - Eyecatchers.

I was so excited to try this one out.  I love eye pencils that can be both a shadow or a liner.  The double duty pencil is definitely something that gets a lot of use in my makeup drawer.  So about a year ago I stopped by the local drug store and picked it up.

I have been miserable with it since I got it.  I don't know if it was just a bad batch, or it is just the formula, but I really hated this stuff.

It was dry, didn't sharpen well and nothing I could do to it would make it go on my eyes evenly.  I tried heat (it just made it firmer, had the texture of a crayola crayon), and the tip kept snapping off every time I sharpened it.  The only thing that worked to get any kind of a line was running it under hot water for about 30 seconds.

Which would end up making the tip so soft that it'd snap off anyhow.

Overall, I don't know if I'd give DuWop another chance.

What makes me really sad is that this was the closest colour to Raven by MAC that I've been able to find.

Next week, mascara.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

In Which Tryph Wages War

Depression is something that has been on my mind a lot lately, which isn't really a surprise given that it took the life of much loved comedy icon Robin Williams just over a week ago.

I've been trying to find a way to scrape the words together to share my thoughts on this disease, and some of my own experiences and struggles with it.

Let me first say that I've always described depression as a battle, but I'm thinking that's not quite the right word for it.  Depression is an all out war.  It's a war of perception (internal, external, imagined, and real).  It's a war of voices (again, internal, external, imagined and real).  It's a war against yourself, for yourself, if that makes sense.  It's a war for and against everyone who loves you.

And I call it a war because it's a series of battles and skirmishes, sometimes they don't last long and sometimes they feel like they'll never end.  Sometimes you can go a long time between battles, and others they're back to back to back.  It's impossible to know what battle you're facing, and even worse, you have no idea how many battles are happening at the same time.

I have fought a war with depression since I was at least 12, but maybe younger.  When I think back to being a child, I don't remember being truly happy or content, but maybe I'm just jaded in my old age.

Anyhow, I have managed to successfully wage this war, and it's not always been by choice.  There have been many times that I've tried to take my own life, both as a child and as an adult.  Depression isn't a war I was always committed to winning.

Because you can't win every war.  You can't win every battle.

I'm not condoning suicide, please don't get me wrong.  I am an advocate for the fact that things can get better if you're willing to keep fighting the fight, but I understand how tiring it can be to wage a war every day.  Sometimes something has to give.

People are compassionate when a cancer patient asks to stop their treatments because they're not seeing progress, and are tired of the fight.
People campaign for the right for someone in terminal or palliative care to be able to access compassionate assisted suicide.

And yet if someone loses the war to depression, it's considered "selfish".

Suicide isn't selfish.  I'm not saying it's right, but it isn't selfish in any way.  It's just... it just is.  In the moment that a depressed person makes the choice to end it, and actually takes action... it becomes as natural as breathing or brushing your teeth.


I don't really think I added much to the discussion on depression to be honest, but since writing this post has been bugging the crap out of me for months... I'm just going to post it.  Maybe we can talk, and others can share their stories.

Thanks for reading.

Thursday, July 31, 2014

In which Tryph is never the same girl twice...

This is the soundtrack of this blog post.  I hope the music makes it easier for me to finish writing it.  I've always found music liberating like that.

I've been trying to write this blog post for about 3 or 4 months now, and just haven't been able to quite form the right words.  Everything keeps coming out contrived and wrong.  I haven't quite been able to hit the right tone in what I'm trying to say.  There has also been the fear that anything I write here will be read into, ripped apart and reassembled, but I suppose that is always a risk that you take when you put your thoughts on the internet.

Anyhow, I'll just try to say it plainly.  I have changed a lot in my life, and I will continue to change as I move through it.

Sometimes these changes have been negative.  I cannot and will not deny my self destructive nature, and the times I succumbed to it.  The times I blamed others for my choices and my faults.  The times I spoke before I thought.  The times I acted without all of the information.  There are many times within my history that I did not like the person I was.

In fact I have spent a lot of time listening to the negative voices both inside and around me.  No one has ever torn me down more than I have though... and this post isn't about anyone else.

A year ago, I wrote that I wanted to be deleted.  I was lost in a fog of pain, and sorrow and regret.  A miasma of "could have been" or "should have been" swirled in my wake.

I was full of toxicity in every sense of the word.  I was bordering on alcoholism with how often I would be completely wasted.  I took more pills than were absolutely necessary to sleep... sometimes for 24-48 hours at a time.  And my heart was poison.  Full of hate and anger and jealousy...

A year ago, and beyond that I was at a very low point.  I felt like I couldn't get ahead, and in truth I couldn't because I was holding myself back.

Then things changed.  I don't know what it was, but something changed.  I wish I could take ownership of it myself, but I don't rightly know what caused the shift, but something caused it.  Maybe it was resorting to a job I dreaded having to take.  Maybe it was finally cutting ties to the man who wasn't right for me in any way.  Maybe it was realizing how badly I had screwed myself financially and learning to accept help in surviving.  Maybe it was finding people who chose not to dwell on darkness and negativity.  Maybe it was recognizing that I was anything but fit for my son, and a major overhaul was necessary to make myself right for him.

Maybe it was all of that, or none of it.  I don't know, but I know that where I am right now... a year later I'm in a much better place.

My heart still sometimes hurts, and I still sometimes cry over what could have been.  I'm still not good enough in a lot of respects, but I'm more than good enough in others.

I am confident in who I am, and I don't need anyone else to tell me who I am, or what I need to be... because honestly, by the time they're done talking, I probably won't be the same.

Thanks for listening.