A show of hands

It's not easy being beautiful during a plague. I mean sure, I make it look easy, but it's really not. Basically I've had to cut down my beauty regimen to just one essential element. And you're looking at it.

I've mentioned here before that I've always washed my hands like I was Howard Hughes. But in the last crazy, unnerving, scary, germ-infested, toilet paper and Clorox wipes hoarding weeks, I'd say I've at a minimum doubled my already ridiculous hand-washing routine.

After touching every doorknob.

Handling every piece of mail.

Taking off a pair of my disposable pink latex gloves (just because it's a plague doesn't mean I can't make a fashion statement).

When I'm done handling dirty dishes.

After I pet the dogs.

And that's just for starters.

As you'd imagine, all that increased volume of hot city water leave my hands more than a little raw. That's why I turn to Bamboo Bergamot from Dani Naturals.

I stumbled on to this fabulous hydrating lotion when I was out to breakfast at the Coffee Cup Cafe with the wife and kids.

The wait, as always, was ridiculously long. So, as always, we wandered into Twig & Willow, the sweet little boutique store next door while we waited. My daughter likes going in there because she's sure she'll walk out with something to wear in the way of clothing or jewelry, thanks to her old man. What can I say? I'm a pushover for my girly.

Anyway, on one of the shelves was a plethora of hand and body lotions with a tester bottle for each of one.

I've found that in shopping, as in life, it's always good to sniff before you buy.

I took a whiff of the Bamboo Bergamot and I was hooked. Its scent was actually reminiscent of the shampoo I used to steal, er, use at the Hotel Del Coronado before it sold and they changed suppliers. It used to be this great fresh, ocean scent. After the sale it was some kind of citrus whammy jammy. Seaside hotel, hello?! Don't get me started.

The good news is unlike toilet paper, disinfectant sprays and wipes, bottles of Bamboo Bergamot are in plentiful supply online. I highly recommend it for keeping your hands and skin silky smooth, hydrated and on the right side of the law, aromatically speaking.

I know there are more pressing issues in the new world order right now. But let's remember the time will come again when we'll get back to being close enough to smell each other.

My advice? Apply liberally.

Three class acts

You know all those problems, big and small in our lives? The ones we bitch and moan about. The ones that are so inconvenient.

Here's a little something to put them in perspective.

I have always been on team Letterman. I find his combination of intelligence, humor and compassion unique to late night television. Plus he made Paris Hilton cry, so what's not to love?

This past week his class and tact was yet again on display during an interview with quadruple amputee veteran, and double arm transplant recipient Brendan Marrocco. The respect Dave has for this young man's courage, persistence and remarkable attitude given the circumstances is tangible.

And Brendan, along with the doctor who headed up his surgical team, are nothing short of inspiring.

When I see an interview like this, I realize how very little I have to complain about in life.

It probably won't stop me from doing it, but it will make me think before I do.

Clock in

Every clock in my house reads, acts and sounds different from the other ones.

Not unlike my high school girlfriends, some are fast, some are slow. Some are loud, some are quiet. Some are easy to read, others not so much.

My friend Kelly Kliebe posted a picture of the Word Clock on his Facebook page awhile ago (although interestingly, he didn't mention what he had for breakfast, which team he was rooting for, or how I could get free tickets on Southwest).

The minute I saw it I had to have it.

For obvious reasons, it's a real writer's clock. And if I ever run into a real writer, I'll make sure and tell him about it (who of us didn't see that one coming?). Because the time is in words, there's no mistaking what time it actually is. I don't have to make an educated guess about the proximity of the hands to the numbers. There's no annoying ticking while I'm trying to sleep. And it serves a dual purpose: it also makes a great nightlight.

I ordered it from Doug Jackson at Doug's Word Clocks in Australia. I ordered it at the beginning of December, and actually forgot that I did until it arrived today.

Time gets away from me like that sometimes.

On his page you can see some of the variations in colors and materials you can order. I know it'll come as a surprise to all who know me that I chose black. Each one is custom ordered and hand-made, which makes it even more special. And more expensive.

I can see from the clock on the wall that IT IS TWENTY MINUTES PAST EIGHT.

An excellent time to wrap this up.