In an effort to avoid aging into a pile of melted candle wax, I recently upped my beauty and health regimen from its lifelong level of “Absolutely Nothing” to “Whatever It Takes, So Long As Whatever It Takes Doesn’t Involve Needles, Surgery, Or Any Effort On My Part.”  The transition has been a bit of a challenge, especially since it turns out that focusing on fixing your flaws makes you VERY AWARE of just how many flaws you have.  It’s gotten to the point that one of my lovely and kind friends had to interrupt my laundry list of disgust and gently tell me, “Amanda, that’s enough with the self-criticism.”

It also turns out that my journey to ageless beauty has not been without bumps (hot tip: don’t pick at those); in fact, let me give you a brief glimpse of what it’s like to be glamorous ol’ me in this week’s

The Tale of the Dry Oil

From Dry Shampoo to Dry Soap to Dry January, Women love DRY.  Dry is good.  Dry is good, everything else is bad.  We want to be moisturized and hydrated, and we want it to happen without the use of liquid.  It’s only a matter of time before someone opens a Barbie-esque spa where guests can take waterless showers and swim in waterless swimming pools and the owners will have to purchase hot pink waterless canoe paddles to beat back the throngs of women who will pour (but dry-pour) into the place.

I bought some non-dry shampoo and conditioner because – well, there was no excuse – and my husband said my hair smelled good after I used it.  Since the only thing I like more than attention is compliments, I went onto the company’s website and purchased every single product they made in that same scent, including an item identified as Dry Oil.  My last foray into Non-Dry Oil was back in the 1990’s when I would suntan in the backyard (bad) slathered in baby oil (bad) listening to my Janet Jackson cassette on my boombox (good), and I was excited to get back into the world of “silky hydration” (their words, and mine) in a new and beneficial way.  Interesting, the photo of the product on the website was of a viscous solution in a spray bottle, but the title clearly said “Dry” and that was much more believable than my own eyes.

My Dry Oil arrived a few days later, and I immediately coated myself in what turned out to be a solution similar to PAM – but different, since it was Dry.  Kyle came into the bathroom as I was spritzing on my final layer, said something like, “Smells good” (success!), and then attempted to touch my shoulder as he gave me a kiss on the cheek.  His hand slid off.

“Slippery,” he said.

“No,” I said.  I showed him the bottle.

“What makes it Dry?”  He asked, but then our eight-year-old came into the bathroom and reminded me that we were going on a bike ride to the nearby golf course for lunch and so I decided to answer Kyle’s question later.  I pulled on a pair of linen shorts (which I own because I enjoy the farce and hope of ironed linen) and grabbed a bottle of Dry Sunscreen on the way out the door, unleashing a cloud of it onto Eight and myself.  Eight hopped on his bike and headed down the street, and I followed…except that I didn’t, because the Dry Sunscreen combined with the Dry Oil on my thighs and made mounting my bike seat similar to the experience of picking up a puddle of yogurt with my pinky fingers.

After a substantial amount of slip-sliding, my (wrinkled) linen shorts absorbed enough of the goop that I could actually sit down.  We rode slowly to the golf course, which would have been a much faster expedition if it hadn’t been hot and my thighs hadn’t started to sweat and, as a result, my silky, hydrated legs hadn’t flopped off the pedals roughly every third rotation.  At the restaurant, and Eight admired my situation as I tucked our bikes together.

“You are very shiny!” he said.

“That’s because I am fancy like a diamond,” I told him.

We went inside, and Eight found us a dining spot while I went to the restroom to tone down my shine so as not to make all of the other women in the restaurant jealous.  I was dabbing myself with a Dry Paper Towel when a woman emerged from the stall.  She stared at me for a few seconds, washed her hands, made a move towards the door, and then stopped.

“I’m sorry to tell you this,” she said, “but I think you have something on your shorts.”

I twisted around.  The entire back-half of my linen shorts looked as you would expect if a person sat in a bucket of PAM and then on a bike seat.

“Oh, it’s fine,” I said.  “It’s Dry Oil.”

“Okay,” she said, as one would if they were sorry to have done a good deed.

I contemplated rinsing out and drying my shorts, decided not to bother, and went to the table with Eight.

“You smell weird,” he said.

“Good weird?”  I asked.

“No,” he said.

“At least my skin is silky,” I said.

“My skin is silkier,” he said.

“Hold onto that forever, kid,” I told him, as I called over the waitress to get a stack of napkins for my chair.

---

The photos above have absolutely nothing to do with each other and only one has to do with this story. The tiny picture is of me back when Kyle and I were first married, and I wanted to use it to illustrate how young and dewy (no oil necessary) I used to be – but it’s like 1″ x 1″ and too small for this post, so I stuck it on a photo of Kyle from our trip last week. We got a license plate game for the kids to track all of the plates we saw on our way to and from Michigan. The kids lost interest after about five cars, but Kyle and I had the time of our lives and just about cleared the board (and we found a plate from Washington D.C.!).

---

This week on North Dakota Today, we talked about the generous kids in the SPA program in Grand Forks, and about three fantastic ladies who spent their Memorial Day cleaning gravestones.  Check it out! (North Dakota Today)

Congratulations to Gladstone’s Joe Wanner, is a 32-year fire chief, 45-year firefighter, and an all-around great guy.  Here are three stories on his recent honor with the Stark County Spirit of Excellence Award: “Gladstone’s Greatest,” “Neighbors in Gladstone Pay Tribute,” and “Recognized for Excellence.”  (Facebook) (Dickinson Press) (KX Net) (KFYR TV)

Eighteen-year-old Jack Paulson has started Carrington’s first-ever youth soccer club. (Jamestown Sun)

You have until August 5 to participate in the Fargo Library History Hunt, which takes you on the trail of 12 downtown landmarks. (Valley News Live)

Speaking of history, here’s an interesting glimpse back through history at the 100-year-old Camp Rokiwan, located near Jamestown. (Jamestown Sun)

The Bismarck Larks’ Benjamin Rosengard and Joe Zollo delivered some balloons and a bat to a young boy named Brody who was recently in a car accident. (Facebook)

Congratulations to Grand Forks’ Shelby Frank, who took 5th at the USA Track and Field Outdoor Championships and is now headed to Costa Rica for the U23 Worlds! (Grand Forks Herald)

I think we all know that there’s no messing around with pickleball in North Dakota. (Fargo Forum)

Food on a pitchfork gets everyone hot and bothered: Medora has been named one of the most romantic towns in America. (Hot 975 FM)

There’s a new pup in West Fargo and his name is Labby. (Valley News Live)

This is a story of hope from a Fargo man named Jayde Pickar and his cat, Adon;s (pronounced Adonis). (Fargo Forum)

You probably know Turtle Mountain Animal Rescue from their videos on Facebook, so you may already know Trooper, who overcame 200 ticks, mange, and hunger thanks to Keith and his helpers. (KFYR TV)

As a reminder, I’ll be appearing on North Dakota Today on Monday mornings. Tune in, and send me the people and stories that make you go, “Oh, for nice” (and if you have already sent me stories – THANK YOU!).

---