![]() I didn’t always understand facial oils and, like so many, thought they were somehow better for other people. I love facial oils! In fact, I prefer them to conventional cream moisturizers. I had always intended to cap off my winter series with a final piece on the best facial oils for dry skin. I’ve been slugging just about every other night for the last two weeks and I have to say my skin is as plump and hydrated today as it is on any hot, humid day in July. My #slugging Essentials: Skinfix 911 Ointment and Skinnies Waterless Sungel SPF 30 is available to read here. ![]() ![]() I followed up my series on the best face creams for dry skin and all skin types in the cold with a piece on the best hydrating face mists titled, Favorite Face Mists for Keeping Skin Hydrated in the Cold - available to read here.Ĭontinuing with my recommendations for keeping skin optimally hydrated and preventing trans-epidermal water loss, or TEWL, in mid-January I published an article on what I consider the best Hyaluronic Acid serums titled, My Favorite Humectant Serums - which you can catch here.Īnd last week, I crafted an article on one of my favorite new skincare trends for keeping skin healthy, happy and hydrated in the deepest, coldest, tundra-like conditions: #slugging. I never got the chance to tell her what she meant to me and to thank her for the remarkable path through life she paved for me. Never again would I be anything but a fantastic, passionate and gifted writer. Never again would I feel shame about who I am. That’s the most romantic name I’ve ever heard.” And my fate was sealed. There wasn’t even the slightest hesitation in her reaction. What I didn’t say was, “Are you happy now? You just destroyed me!” She repeated, only louder and more emphatically this time. Suddenly, every other student had stopped what they were doing, focused their attention on me, and witnessed me defying Miss. Shea was actually asking me to speak my name in front of the entire class?! My silence, and defiance of her, only made the situation worse. I said nothing, couldn’t speak I was overcome by complete terror. Like my given name, it was uncommon, unusual, and classic Sicilian-Italian. The only thing I hated more than my mispronounced first name was my rare and ridiculous middle name. Suddenly, she turned to me and asked, “Carmine, what’s your middle name?” She was quizzing us about something we’d read, scanning the room from her perch and randomly calling on students by name. Shea’s classes that literally altered the course of my life. There was a single moment in one of Miss. ![]() And I wouldn’t have the confidence I have as a writer today if it weren’t for her strong belief in me. I hung on her every word, soaked up all she taught. Unlike the vast majority of students in the class, I was animated and engaged, paid attention to every lesson. And, as I remember it, I was her favorite student. Shea was one of the most influential forces of my young adulthood. That confidence had been seeded two years earlier by my high school English teacher, Jay Shea. On my first day of college, as my parents were driving off campus and leaving me alone for the first time in my life, I turned to my new roommates and introduced myself as “Car- mine.” It felt like I was correcting a mortal wrong and, in retrospect, was a seminal moment for me as a confident, independent man. It reminded me of Carmen Miranda, the whacky Brazilian lady who wore fruit on her head! In Italian-American slang, it was pronounced “Carmen” - which I detested. My first name, Carmine, was not pronounced as it is today. In fact, I hated both my first and middle names. Until my sophomore year in high school, I hated my name. I was chubby, which kept me from going to the beach and sustaining the kind of sun damage early on that comes back to haunt you later in life. When I was a kid, I had my share of insecurities.
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