Let's just say it's been a long time since the last entry on AllstonProper. It's actually due to a lot of things, from serious to the not-so. Another reason for this break- leave of absence? that sounds more justifiable...- is that I (Jeremy) get excited about things and, a few high-speed (caffiene-fueled) thoughts later, find something else to obsess over.
This time that "something else" was a couple of things. With classes over, and actual free days throughout the week (which is the worst thing for an over thinker), I've become intent on painting my apartment's bathroom (I know, I know... that's so "Dad on Sunday" of me). As it stands, I've spackled, sanded, smoothed, primed, and now am facing a tough decision: Waterflow blue, Bearded Iris purple, or Secret Garden Green.
We've still not decided, but have come to at least one conclusion: If Sherwin-Williams accepts interns, then it's the interns who are tasked with naming the hundreds of similar shades of every color.
Most of the friends I show these color sticks to are pretty un-helpful. They "just like all the colors I circled and Alana starred, because they're nice shades of" blue/purple/green, that "would look really good in the bathroom, like better than it was before. Definitely!"
Considering the bathroom, since we moved here in September 2007, has been a pale white with brown stains, which requires no explanation to understand exactly what they look like, this advice is of little help.
But back to the names- see, I'm easily side tracked. Yesterday, Abbi, our summer roomate, was in my room looking at colors when the name conversation came up, and we were thinking about how fun it would be to spice up our vocab with some colored descriptors. They'd actually be pretty relevant. If you don't believe it, check out these new and improved sentences:
Before: "Hey, can I borrow your purple booty short for gay pride?"
After: "Hi good friend, would you mind letting me borrow your lamay hot pants for gay pride, you know... the ones Riverton Heights purple?"
or:
Before: "I can't believe Dolly Parton rescheduled her Boston concert-- I was really looking forward to hearing 'Jolene' because relationship problems have got me feeling blue."
After: "I've been feeling really Blueville blue lately, not Radiant Skies blue, but a real dark Blueville. Man, I just need to hear 'Jolene.'"
...Just a thought.
15 June 2008
04 April 2008
This week in Allston!
While Boston cried over a hawk attack, Allston residents dealt with real problems: They got their purses stolen, tires slashed, and necks poked.
- In an act of good measure, a tire-slashing vandal left behind a gift bag full of dog poop on 3/24. According the victimized car-owner, this is not the first time this has happened. We're not sure why, but two words come to mind: angry ex-girlfriend.
- The Citizens Bank at 2000 Beacon Street was robbed on 3/29 by a man the Allston-Brighton Tab has described as non-hispanic, in case any of you were wondering.
- A pastor- yes, a pastor, was attacked by an unidentified man on 3/30, in a Brighton church. After he told the pastor, "You have death points against you," the man struck him in the neck with two fingers.
- A 34-year-old Allston woman was arrested on 3/30 for stealing a Dora the Explorer book from Stop & Shop. She was carrying no identification at the time of the arrest and told police that she "just got here from Vegas and hitchhiked to Stop & Shop."
- A 20-year-old, "non-hispanic" male mugged a female student on Wallingford Street on 3/30. However, we're still not sure why the Allston-Brighton Tab included the second descriptor.
- In an act of good measure, a tire-slashing vandal left behind a gift bag full of dog poop on 3/24. According the victimized car-owner, this is not the first time this has happened. We're not sure why, but two words come to mind: angry ex-girlfriend.
- The Citizens Bank at 2000 Beacon Street was robbed on 3/29 by a man the Allston-Brighton Tab has described as non-hispanic, in case any of you were wondering.
- A pastor- yes, a pastor, was attacked by an unidentified man on 3/30, in a Brighton church. After he told the pastor, "You have death points against you," the man struck him in the neck with two fingers.
- A 34-year-old Allston woman was arrested on 3/30 for stealing a Dora the Explorer book from Stop & Shop. She was carrying no identification at the time of the arrest and told police that she "just got here from Vegas and hitchhiked to Stop & Shop."
- A 20-year-old, "non-hispanic" male mugged a female student on Wallingford Street on 3/30. However, we're still not sure why the Allston-Brighton Tab included the second descriptor.
02 April 2008
Alabaster in Allston: What's blonde got to do with it?
For years I have struggled with deciding on a hair color. As a young woman, I have the choice: to bleach or not to bleach. And since moving to the city I've learned that THAT is a very important question. I moved here in September as a blonde. (No, I am not a natural blonde, but I've had some good times as one so why not shed some shades?) Also, I forgot to mention that I moved here not only blonde, but single. Very, very single, and looking to meet someone.
Once I started working in a spa/salon, I had the opportunity to further my blonde-ness, and rightly did so. The first few days, I was excited to see the results, expecting to be swarmed by attractive men from John Hancock as I passed the building-of-mirrors every day on my way to work.
However, the only things that swarmed me were homeless men. Every day one would come out of the woodwork with a compliment for me, whether it be the homeless-ish black man serenading me with, "Sheeee's got beeeautiful leeeggsss" at the 66 bus stop next to Marty's; or the one coming out of the alley way behind the same package store with the ever-so-romantic "You got a cigarette? Aww thank you miss, you're beautiful you know that? Are you IRISH?". After weeks of only being hit on by the borderline-crackhead-but-nonetheless-very-homeless men, I had enough. My dream man was replaced by one of these nomadic wanderers, and I. Had. Enough.
Around mid-December I made a drastic change and dyed my hair dark brown. I said to hell with it, the blonde isn't working like I had hoped. Instead of being blown away by the wind at Copley, I was getting blown away by the lines these homeless men threw at me. The first day as a brunette, though, I noticed a change. That night not a SINGLE cracked-out, felon-looking creature hit on me. This is GREAT, I thought, and I was really happy for the remainder of the week. But then something happened that rocked my entire world...
I'd been a brunette for a month and still nothing happened for me in the love department. Not only did I meet zero prospects, but even the homeless men I once despised stopped hitting on me. Why did their oppinion even matter? Was I that desperate in search of a man that I let these bums get to me?
Then, in a Carrie Bradshaw-inspired move, I got to thinking: Do homeless men know something that no one else understands? I tried to brush these thoughts away but just couldn't shake them. So I gave in, and demanded that my co-worker throw a few foils in my hair-- I was a woman on a mission. A personal mission, for now, as I couldn't talk to anyone about my homeless hair fixation; they'd just think I was nuts.
Now, this might sound superficial, but the downward descent into lighter shades was comforting, like returning home for Thanksgiving. I was on my way back to blonde, and in February I added even more foils, making blonde a platinum reality. The first DAY I had my foil I was noticed by one of the cracked-out, broke-ass men I missed hearing from so much. I was walking down Newbury and he asked me for change, and not wanting to give any, I apologized and started to walk. But before I got even four steps away, he said four words that almost caused me to turn right back around and donate to his crack habit.
"You've got GREAT hair!" he said, and I was back in business. All it took were those four words and I was considering ash blonde. No longer did it matter if I met a great guy; all that mattered was the attention of the men who wrap themselves in trash bags and drink cheap booze at ten in the morning to keep warm.
It's now April. I am pretty damn blonde, and the compliments don't stop. I mean, it's easy to say a homeless guy hit on you, but how many people can say that the men go into detail about their hair? Most of my friends think I'm a little crazy for even letting the homeless impact how I feel about myself and my hair, but I believe that the Boston homeless are our most important critics. Think about it for a second: They are EVERYWHERE and they see hundreds of people daily. But if they take the time to make a comment that lights up your day, then does it really matter if it's coming from a half-drunk, crack-hungry, derelicht-looking man?
Once I started working in a spa/salon, I had the opportunity to further my blonde-ness, and rightly did so. The first few days, I was excited to see the results, expecting to be swarmed by attractive men from John Hancock as I passed the building-of-mirrors every day on my way to work.
However, the only things that swarmed me were homeless men. Every day one would come out of the woodwork with a compliment for me, whether it be the homeless-ish black man serenading me with, "Sheeee's got beeeautiful leeeggsss" at the 66 bus stop next to Marty's; or the one coming out of the alley way behind the same package store with the ever-so-romantic "You got a cigarette? Aww thank you miss, you're beautiful you know that? Are you IRISH?". After weeks of only being hit on by the borderline-crackhead-but-nonetheless-very-homeless men, I had enough. My dream man was replaced by one of these nomadic wanderers, and I. Had. Enough.
Around mid-December I made a drastic change and dyed my hair dark brown. I said to hell with it, the blonde isn't working like I had hoped. Instead of being blown away by the wind at Copley, I was getting blown away by the lines these homeless men threw at me. The first day as a brunette, though, I noticed a change. That night not a SINGLE cracked-out, felon-looking creature hit on me. This is GREAT, I thought, and I was really happy for the remainder of the week. But then something happened that rocked my entire world...
I'd been a brunette for a month and still nothing happened for me in the love department. Not only did I meet zero prospects, but even the homeless men I once despised stopped hitting on me. Why did their oppinion even matter? Was I that desperate in search of a man that I let these bums get to me?
Then, in a Carrie Bradshaw-inspired move, I got to thinking: Do homeless men know something that no one else understands? I tried to brush these thoughts away but just couldn't shake them. So I gave in, and demanded that my co-worker throw a few foils in my hair-- I was a woman on a mission. A personal mission, for now, as I couldn't talk to anyone about my homeless hair fixation; they'd just think I was nuts.
Now, this might sound superficial, but the downward descent into lighter shades was comforting, like returning home for Thanksgiving. I was on my way back to blonde, and in February I added even more foils, making blonde a platinum reality. The first DAY I had my foil I was noticed by one of the cracked-out, broke-ass men I missed hearing from so much. I was walking down Newbury and he asked me for change, and not wanting to give any, I apologized and started to walk. But before I got even four steps away, he said four words that almost caused me to turn right back around and donate to his crack habit.
"You've got GREAT hair!" he said, and I was back in business. All it took were those four words and I was considering ash blonde. No longer did it matter if I met a great guy; all that mattered was the attention of the men who wrap themselves in trash bags and drink cheap booze at ten in the morning to keep warm.
It's now April. I am pretty damn blonde, and the compliments don't stop. I mean, it's easy to say a homeless guy hit on you, but how many people can say that the men go into detail about their hair? Most of my friends think I'm a little crazy for even letting the homeless impact how I feel about myself and my hair, but I believe that the Boston homeless are our most important critics. Think about it for a second: They are EVERYWHERE and they see hundreds of people daily. But if they take the time to make a comment that lights up your day, then does it really matter if it's coming from a half-drunk, crack-hungry, derelicht-looking man?
29 March 2008
One month!
"My new album is called Hard Candy," said Madonna. "And I hope people in Allston, Massachusetts, like it because I like Allston, Massachusetts."
Note: Madonna may or may not have said the second half of the statement; in fact, Allston Proper may or may not have made it up. The only hard facts here are: Madonna is releasing Hard Candy on April 29 (a month from today!); and Madonna's new album will be called Hard Candy (which is not new news by any means, DUH).
Note: Madonna may or may not have said the second half of the statement; in fact, Allston Proper may or may not have made it up. The only hard facts here are: Madonna is releasing Hard Candy on April 29 (a month from today!); and Madonna's new album will be called Hard Candy (which is not new news by any means, DUH).
7: tips..
for posting a Missed Connection on Craigslist:
1. Be specific Everyone listens to an iPod; there are probably 20 Starbucks in the area; and a lot of people with hair and cell phones go to work during the week.
2. Don't be predatory! Yeah, you might have wanted to plow your unrequited love interest, but withhold that information until the first date.
3. Do write in euphemisms. If you want a response, don't describe yourself as short, chubby, and wearing a white trenchcoat on the t.
4. Never, ever, say "I don't usually do post on this, but..." It's probably not true, and you probably read the Missed Connections everyday anyways.
5. Keep your interests to yourself. Let the other person find out on his/her own that you're cute and dumb/weird/tasteless.
6. Don't post weird pictures. Or, for that matter: amateur nudes, full-on uglies, or random, irrelevant pictures of animals and/or landscapes.
7. Read, don't write. Craigslist has a cult following, of secretive readers. If you do post, don't give out too much personal information or you'll be the "weirdo who actually posts on Craigslist."
1. Be specific Everyone listens to an iPod; there are probably 20 Starbucks in the area; and a lot of people with hair and cell phones go to work during the week.
2. Don't be predatory! Yeah, you might have wanted to plow your unrequited love interest, but withhold that information until the first date.
3. Do write in euphemisms. If you want a response, don't describe yourself as short, chubby, and wearing a white trenchcoat on the t.
4. Never, ever, say "I don't usually do post on this, but..." It's probably not true, and you probably read the Missed Connections everyday anyways.
5. Keep your interests to yourself. Let the other person find out on his/her own that you're cute and dumb/weird/tasteless.
6. Don't post weird pictures. Or, for that matter: amateur nudes, full-on uglies, or random, irrelevant pictures of animals and/or landscapes.
7. Read, don't write. Craigslist has a cult following, of secretive readers. If you do post, don't give out too much personal information or you'll be the "weirdo who actually posts on Craigslist."
28 March 2008
This week in Allston!
Our posting lagged this week, but, for interest's sake, crime didn't. Let's see what our trouble-making townsfolk were up to this week:
- A college community mourned on 3/22 as Allston said goodbye to three more drug dealers. The men were arrested on the corner of Brighton and Cambridge Streets. If their girlfriends had taught them anything, it should've been to NOT conduct business on a street corner.
- Police got lucky on 3/20, when they stopped a male who looked like a suspect from another crime. Though he wasn't their guy, a little touchy-touchy produced a bag of greenstuffs. "I'm not going to lie; it's weed," replied the 25-year-old.
- Police arrested a 30-year-old male on Ashford Street on 3/20 for looking into peoples' windows. Our advice worked!
- A taxi driver was arrested while dumpster diving for used car parts behind an automotive warehouse on Cambridge Street. He is suspected of stealing during business and hiding his finds in the dumpster. His excuse? He was "trying to pee." If only he were stealing a GPS, THEN we'd rally behind him.
Ohh, and people were arrested for drug possession; someone was robbed at knifepoint; and a man with an arrest warrant ran from the cops. Yawn.
[Source: Allston-Brighton Tab Community bulletin]
- A college community mourned on 3/22 as Allston said goodbye to three more drug dealers. The men were arrested on the corner of Brighton and Cambridge Streets. If their girlfriends had taught them anything, it should've been to NOT conduct business on a street corner.
- Police got lucky on 3/20, when they stopped a male who looked like a suspect from another crime. Though he wasn't their guy, a little touchy-touchy produced a bag of greenstuffs. "I'm not going to lie; it's weed," replied the 25-year-old.
- Police arrested a 30-year-old male on Ashford Street on 3/20 for looking into peoples' windows. Our advice worked!
- A taxi driver was arrested while dumpster diving for used car parts behind an automotive warehouse on Cambridge Street. He is suspected of stealing during business and hiding his finds in the dumpster. His excuse? He was "trying to pee." If only he were stealing a GPS, THEN we'd rally behind him.
Ohh, and people were arrested for drug possession; someone was robbed at knifepoint; and a man with an arrest warrant ran from the cops. Yawn.
[Source: Allston-Brighton Tab Community bulletin]
25 March 2008
Breaking news, from Planet Claire
What's cosmic, owns a lime-green dog, and sported a tall beehive decades before Wino lit the crack pipe?
The B-52s, duh! Today the cosmic quartet- Keith, Fred, Kate, and Cindy- release Funplex, their first record of the 21st century. "It's loud, sexy rock and roll, with the beat pumped up to hot pink," says guitarist Keith Strickland on the band's website.
I just bought the CD, and, in the words of my father- an elitist new waver, still- it's bumpin' and is full of good tunes (To listen to two new songs and some wedding-reception classics you might recognize, check out the B-52s MySpace page.).
Lucky for us, they invade Allston on April 24 when their Funplex Tour 2008 stops at the Paradise. Tickets aren't cheap, but they put on a pretty stellar performance. Just ask my parents-- for their anniversary, I bought them tickets to the B-52s show at the Pavillion a few years ago. Hm, maybe that's not a selling point...
Anyways, it's not just music for your parents (unless, like mine, yours are of the new wave generation), so ch-ch-ch-check it out!
24 March 2008
It's not fashion, but...
it's better than pink Red Sox hats.
Proximity to Boston, our old uncle that now boasts a mean ball game but moves as quickly on legislation as he does on his walker, means the reinstitution of many bad things when our tights-wearin' ball boys fly north from Fort Myers (i.e. drunk suburbanites on the B line-- because it's apparently the "only" route to Fenway Park).
However, the worst side effect of "Sox" fever sits atop greasy girl hairs everywhere: Yes, I'm talking about pink Red Sox hats. Not only do they flaunt a blatant disregard for the team's blue-and-red policy, they defy basic rules of matching colors. If I recall correctly (which I do; I've a keen eye for color), pink and red match only once a year: February 14.
That's where The Red Seat comes in. It's not exactly Marc or Jack, but it's a step above Champion. Plus, their designs aren't all that bad. A victim of baseball fatigue, even I can get simple pleasure from any examination of a fan's brain that simplifies it to thoughts of "peanuts, sausages, and Fenway flavah" and "the wave." (What with the pressures of teknolojee and the interweb, it's nice to know that some people have resisted evolution.)
Sass aside, though, it's a pretty cool website that anyone with some taste and an interest in the Red Sox can appreciate. It launched in 2004, so I'm a bit late, but with baseball season approaching, the site is defintely worthy of a mention. It's the philanthropic rule of thumb: If by posting this I can save at least one person from pink-hat ugliness, I'll know I've something done good for the entire Allston/Boston community.
For everything from Sox-on-the-brain coasters to sexxed-up track jackets and holiday cards, check out The Red Seat online: www.theredseat.com.
Proximity to Boston, our old uncle that now boasts a mean ball game but moves as quickly on legislation as he does on his walker, means the reinstitution of many bad things when our tights-wearin' ball boys fly north from Fort Myers (i.e. drunk suburbanites on the B line-- because it's apparently the "only" route to Fenway Park).
However, the worst side effect of "Sox" fever sits atop greasy girl hairs everywhere: Yes, I'm talking about pink Red Sox hats. Not only do they flaunt a blatant disregard for the team's blue-and-red policy, they defy basic rules of matching colors. If I recall correctly (which I do; I've a keen eye for color), pink and red match only once a year: February 14.
That's where The Red Seat comes in. It's not exactly Marc or Jack, but it's a step above Champion. Plus, their designs aren't all that bad. A victim of baseball fatigue, even I can get simple pleasure from any examination of a fan's brain that simplifies it to thoughts of "peanuts, sausages, and Fenway flavah" and "the wave." (What with the pressures of teknolojee and the interweb, it's nice to know that some people have resisted evolution.)
Sass aside, though, it's a pretty cool website that anyone with some taste and an interest in the Red Sox can appreciate. It launched in 2004, so I'm a bit late, but with baseball season approaching, the site is defintely worthy of a mention. It's the philanthropic rule of thumb: If by posting this I can save at least one person from pink-hat ugliness, I'll know I've something done good for the entire Allston/Boston community.
For everything from Sox-on-the-brain coasters to sexxed-up track jackets and holiday cards, check out The Red Seat online: www.theredseat.com.
23 March 2008
Happy Easter!
What to find and where to find it on your Easter egg hunt:
1. For baby-bearing eggs, dive into the closest dumpster!
2. Lost your syringe and need a quick fix? Venture across the bridge to lower Allston!
3. Need an egg with dolla, dolla bills ya'll? Three words: anywhere BUT Allston.
4. Already out of pot and beer, and it's before noon? No worries: Take a stroll down Greylock Street!
5. And lastly, for rat-infested Easter eggs, check out any apartment managed by RCG!
Hope this helps! Hoppy Easter all. (Sorry, we can't resist a good pun when we see one.)
1. For baby-bearing eggs, dive into the closest dumpster!
2. Lost your syringe and need a quick fix? Venture across the bridge to lower Allston!
3. Need an egg with dolla, dolla bills ya'll? Three words: anywhere BUT Allston.
4. Already out of pot and beer, and it's before noon? No worries: Take a stroll down Greylock Street!
5. And lastly, for rat-infested Easter eggs, check out any apartment managed by RCG!
Hope this helps! Hoppy Easter all. (Sorry, we can't resist a good pun when we see one.)
22 March 2008
Alabaster in Allston: the pro-beard revolution
...and I'm not talking about the clueless girl on the arm of that impossibly femme guy-- that's a different beard.
If you haven't noticed, the pro-beard movement made it's way through Hollywood and has since infiltrated our trendy little enclave. It's like you can't even swing a purse on the T now without hitting at least three of these Adrien Grenier-esque motherfuckers.
Not to brag or anything, but lately I've been indulging in the trend by partaking in some serious make-out sessions with a bearded guy. I'm not ungrateful or anything, but it's taken a serious toll on my skin. And considering that beards are "in" right now, I'm willing to bet quite a few of you ladies, and maybe some bros, too (this is Allston), are in the same boat.
Beards have come at a time of the year that is already hostile toward moisture, and consequently, toward our skin, too. While engaging, a full-on lip lock with these gentlemen- their beards included- is hazardous to the face, especially if your skin is already dry and sensitive to begin with. Too much kissing and too little care, and you may start to find yourself with the girl version of a beard. (No, you won't be growing facial hair, but you will have a distinct line of demarcation that resembles a beard... of dry skin. )
What is a girl to do, you ask? No, you don't have to kick your bearded boy to the curb; just take a few precautionary skin-care measures.
First, and most importantly: Exfoliate! I don't mean go out and buy St. Ives scrub (In fact, don't ever use that shit on your face. It's like rubbing shards of glass all over your skin, and if you have any minor breakouts they'll spread like wildfire when the exfoliating beads break up and spread the bacteria.). You can, however, find some products that have gentle beads in them at a local pharmacy, like CVS or Rite Aid.
But if you're spending day and night in a permanent state of lip lock, you may need an exfoliant that is stronger. Any products with enzymes is great. They work hard destroying dead skin cells, and that, after all, is what we're trying to rid ourselves of here. One of my favorites right now is a green apple fruit peel by Juice Beauty, an organic line of skin care. I like to put it on before getting into the shower; then I leave it on for ten minutes while the steam works its magic (hint: steam will enhance and add moisture to ANY face peel, so applying right before a shower is best). After that, remove and BAM, I have a fresh, new complexion.
The next step is moisturize, which you should be doing daily anyways, so this won't complicate your skin-care regimen. During winter it's okay to use a heavier moisturizer. Because this is New England, feel free to use a creamier one until early- to mid-spring. Once the season changes, though, so too should your moisturizer, to a light, oil-free one.
Two things to keep in mind: exfoliating once or twice a week; moisturize day and night.
If you cannot change a man, you shouldn't force him into beard submission. Besides, he'll eventually lose the beard and making out with go a lot smoother. But until then, the only thing we can do is put ourselves and our skin first.
If you haven't noticed, the pro-beard movement made it's way through Hollywood and has since infiltrated our trendy little enclave. It's like you can't even swing a purse on the T now without hitting at least three of these Adrien Grenier-esque motherfuckers.
Not to brag or anything, but lately I've been indulging in the trend by partaking in some serious make-out sessions with a bearded guy. I'm not ungrateful or anything, but it's taken a serious toll on my skin. And considering that beards are "in" right now, I'm willing to bet quite a few of you ladies, and maybe some bros, too (this is Allston), are in the same boat.
Beards have come at a time of the year that is already hostile toward moisture, and consequently, toward our skin, too. While engaging, a full-on lip lock with these gentlemen- their beards included- is hazardous to the face, especially if your skin is already dry and sensitive to begin with. Too much kissing and too little care, and you may start to find yourself with the girl version of a beard. (No, you won't be growing facial hair, but you will have a distinct line of demarcation that resembles a beard... of dry skin. )
What is a girl to do, you ask? No, you don't have to kick your bearded boy to the curb; just take a few precautionary skin-care measures.
First, and most importantly: Exfoliate! I don't mean go out and buy St. Ives scrub (In fact, don't ever use that shit on your face. It's like rubbing shards of glass all over your skin, and if you have any minor breakouts they'll spread like wildfire when the exfoliating beads break up and spread the bacteria.). You can, however, find some products that have gentle beads in them at a local pharmacy, like CVS or Rite Aid.
But if you're spending day and night in a permanent state of lip lock, you may need an exfoliant that is stronger. Any products with enzymes is great. They work hard destroying dead skin cells, and that, after all, is what we're trying to rid ourselves of here. One of my favorites right now is a green apple fruit peel by Juice Beauty, an organic line of skin care. I like to put it on before getting into the shower; then I leave it on for ten minutes while the steam works its magic (hint: steam will enhance and add moisture to ANY face peel, so applying right before a shower is best). After that, remove and BAM, I have a fresh, new complexion.
The next step is moisturize, which you should be doing daily anyways, so this won't complicate your skin-care regimen. During winter it's okay to use a heavier moisturizer. Because this is New England, feel free to use a creamier one until early- to mid-spring. Once the season changes, though, so too should your moisturizer, to a light, oil-free one.
Two things to keep in mind: exfoliating once or twice a week; moisturize day and night.
If you cannot change a man, you shouldn't force him into beard submission. Besides, he'll eventually lose the beard and making out with go a lot smoother. But until then, the only thing we can do is put ourselves and our skin first.
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