Monthly Archives: May 2013


First off, I want to thank everyone for their input on my new ‘do.  I took it all into consideration, and came up with this:

New Hair2

It combines Carla Gugino’s Sin City bob (as recommended by The Kangaroo Muledog Press) with Thom’s suggestion to “leave enough for a handful,” and Pete’s recommendation that it be “punkish but posh.”  My future intent is to take Eeon’s suggestion and grow it out long, and maybe if it’s, say,  Dorito Nacho Night (oh yes) it might get “messy, with food in it” as Dave suggested.


Massage your hair and scalp thoroughly with a vegetable oil, then steam the hair and scalp for half an hour by wrapping your head in a hot, damp terry towel” Arlene Dahl, Always Ask a Man.

Before I go and get my BRAND NEW HAIRCUT (coming soon!), I wanted to give my old hair one last hurrah with a hot oil treatment (also, if it went really badly, it wouldn’t matter because I was getting it professionally shampooed and they could deal with it).  Since we were out of olive oil (except for the rosemary and garlic kind, good on bread, bad on head) I decided to go with coconut oil, because it says on the package that it’s what the beautiful people use for shiny hair.  I want to be both

I melted it down and it didn’t go in quite as easily as I thought it would.  The hot towel posed a whole other set of problems, since we just went through a cold snap and the house isn’t exactly balmy.  It went cold every few minutes, and I kept having to microwave it, which meant pausing the terrible SVU rerun I was watching on Hulu because the new season of Arrested Development made me feel uncomfortable and sad (yeah, I said it).

At the end of all of it, my hair was shinyin a guido, unwashed hair kind of way.  It took a few shampoos to get all of it out and even then it looked a little weighed down and sticky.  Live and learn, I guess.  Onward to new hair! 

One Day More

Just one more day to vote on what I should do with my hair!  Here are some highlights from the votes thus far:

1) “Leave enough for a good handful” Thom (Fresh!)

2) “Option Four: Aeon Flux” Pete (Eeon responded “Didn’t her hair turn into a sword?”  I would totally get sword hair)

3) “Your Dano-Esq hair looks great and you shouldn’t feel any pressure to change it” Mike (awww!)

One more day!  Leave them in the comments, email geek.girl.goes.glam (at) or find me on twitter @libbycudmore

The Best Pot Pie Pretty Much Ever

“Remember to keep plenty of Carnation Evaporated Milk in the cupboard.  No other form of milk has as many uses as Carnation!” Mary Blake, Teen-Time Cooking With Carnation


And speaking of yummy . . . .

I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve pretty much conquered pot pies.  Yep, got it down.  And this one is 60’s housewife easy, so you can hold your daytime typing gig and still be home in time to get dinner on the table when your man gets home from work, but loose enough where, if you’re so inspired, you can do it all from scratch.  It’s inspired partially by the chicken and bacon jacket pie that Ian had when we were in London to see Ewan McGregor in Guys and Dolls.

The Glam Geek’s C&B Pot Pie

1/2 Rotisserie chicken (or leftovers from a previous chicken dinner) shredded

4 strips bacon (get the really good, thick cut, applewood smoked from the butcher–none of this frozen, Oscar Meyer junk)

1/2 sweet onion, roughly chopped

1 bag of frozen veggies (California mix or stir-fry)

1 box frozen pie crust, thawed (you’ll need both pieces)

2 golden potatoes, cooked and mashed to your liking (leftovers or from the grocer’s deli counter may be used)

Really good sharp cheddar (I got some amazing, extra-aged NY sharp cheddar from Sperbeck’s in Cooperstown)

Carnation evaporated milk

Put the veggies on to steam. Fry up the bacon until crisp and drain on paper towels. Using at least half the bacon grease, saute the onions until glossy and mellow.  Reduce heat to low. Tear up the bacon and toss it in there, along with the chicken.  Heat until warm and douse with Carnation Evaporated Milk until covered and then throw the steamed veggies in there too.  Make sure everything is coated with milk, add herbs to your taste (I like sage, thyme, a little tarragon, some parsley and basil, then just enough pepper to taste–no salt, though, the bacon takes care of that) then set aside.

Roll the pie crust out into a deep pie pan (you might need to use a square casserole dish)  Spread the mashed potatoes over the bottom, then grate the cheese over that.  Add the meat and veggie mix, cover with the second crust and bake in a 400 oven until the crust is golden brown.


Crowdsourcing my ‘do

I think it’s about time I got rid of my accidental, once-called-Paul-Dano-esq flip hairdo, as it has grown to an odd, shaggy length that, while cute, is sort of boring me.

But, like makeup, I am terrible at picking out a haircut, so I thought, why not enlist the help of the internet?  They ALWAYS make good decisions (see also: The return of Arrested Development)

Hair Front

I’ve got three specific choices, but I’m up for suggestions.  I want something cute, but needs minimal maintence, but sexy.  Here’s what I’m thinking:

OPTION ONE: Leave it the way it is and grow it out.  Should be long and even by fall with only a few basic trims.

OPTION TWO: The Sin City “Lucille” bob.  Downside: Have to curl it under every day.

OPTION THREE: The Victoria Beckham/Faye Valentine angled bob.  Downside: I’d have to straighten it every day, and will probably burn my ears


Option #2

OPTION FOUR: Suggestions?  Tweet them to @libbycudmore or email them (with pics!) to geek.girl.goes.glam (at) gmail (dot) com


Option #3

A Lover Sings

“You’re the kind of girl who likes to open a bottle of pop too early in the journey” Billy Bragg, “A Lover Sings”

My friend Liz RT a post from a former, older male friend of mine: I could never be the cool dad. Unless tween girls think surliness & drinking & discolored sweatpants with weak elastic are cool. Do they?

I’m not going to go into all the moderately-scandalous details of our friendship (ask me about it at a party sometime) only that at one point he may or may not have referred to me as “his secret girlfriend.” *  But it was my early 20’s, and I was young and eager for affection, and he later broke my heart via a mix CD with Billy Bragg’s “A Lover Sings” (who does that?!?) and quit speaking to me until years later, when we got back in touch, had a too-long and awkward lunch and never spoke again.  

But seeing this tweet made me very, very sad.  He was never quite a fashion plate, although I do confess that I would swoon whenever he wore his yellow button-down and dark blue jeans, and he did have this cute blue scarf he wore clumsily looped around his unshaven neck.  He was a proto-hipster, a mix CD making, pulp reading, Chandler quoting genius.  And now, apparently, he just hangs around drinking gin and wearing gross sweatpants. But he was always surly.  Glad to see some bad habits never die hard.

Arlene and HGB and Dorothy put so much pressure on US, ladies, to stay fit and trim and cordial and pretty.  And there was no one on earth I tried to be as pretty for as him.  I would have DIED before showing up for one of our coffee dates in jeans and a tee-shirt.  Once, I wore cute go-go boots for him and he told me I looked like a streetwalker.  See what I mean about surliness?

But if a man isn’t going to put pride in his appearance, why should the woman he’s trying to woo put any into hers?  And then haven’t we all just given up?  Because it’s not about the clothes–it’s about the effort.  It’s about saying “I respect and care for you enough to put in some time” the same way we put time into our appearance when we go to work.  Looking good is not a crime.

And there is a time for sweatpants, a time for pajamas, a time for baggy jeans and a time for too-big tee-shirts. But it’s as if he’s given up.  It’s as if he’s given in.  The man who used to share his Junior Mints with me at Clive Owen movies and sat so close to me during Rififi that our knees were touching is no more, just one more sarcastic, bitter, middle-aged man loafing around while life goes by.  And those, darlings, are a dime a dozen and not worth a tenth of that.

Maybe that’s not the case, I don’t know.  Maybe I’m reading too much into it, attaching value and meaning that isn’t there.  But what I do know is that the man I knew, the man who gave me vintage crime paperbacks and taught me to love French Roast coffee wouldn’t be caught dead slumming like that. 


*Answer: He totally did.

Don’t Mess With My Mouth

I’m in NYC for a few days, and finally decided that if anyone was going to teach me about makeup, it was going to be Sephora,  My favorite lipstick, which I never wear because it’s pretty intense, came from Sephora, a present to myself for my first publication sale to some nerd magazine about chem-free college dorm life (Oneida 4 A-L REPRESENT!) and I am finally able to afford maybe one little treat for myself.

I went into the store at Union Square and was immediately terrified.  Too much color.  Can I wear green eyeliner or will I look like a bad drag queen? (not an awesome one like Miss Uschi)  What do I do with THAT cream?  OH GOD HOW MUCH STUFF DO I HAVE TO PUT ON MY FACE?  Moisturizers, primers, glitter, bronzer . . . I almost had a panic attack standing in front of the Urban Decay stand.

Luckily, Desiree, who was wearing insane purple glitter eye shadow and rich dark red lipstick came to my rescue.  “You’re beautiful, and I’m going to tell you straight because you’re putting your trust in me,” she said in a thick, sassy accent  She even sat me down and dusted my face with Bare Minerals primer powder, smeared some bronzer on me and turned me loose in the mirror.

I could not believe what I saw.  I was beautiful.  I was a knock-out.  I looked like a doll.  My skin was even, flawless, perfect.  Wow.

I didn’t buy the primer.  Not at $27, but she packed a sample up for me and I’ll try to find a similar one back home.  But she showed me this awesome Moxie lipgloss which satisfied my desire to look like a dame while not leaving thick smears of dark red lipstick all over my coffee cups, and I picked up an electric blue eyeliner pencil because HECK YEAH.

I will probably never be a heavily made-up dame.  Desiree was cool with that.  She didn’t try to dump a bunch of products I would never use.  She showed me some tools for beauty and, better still, taught me that I had the power to use them.  And damn if that lipgloss doesn’t bring out my big wet smacker (easily my best feature)

Reader Submission

Melissa, who awesomely tweets under the handle @nursethebeer as “The future ex-Mrs. Malcolm” (it was pretty much love at first RT.  Seriously, follow her, she’s hysterical) sent me this amazing collection of video tutorials about keeping clean, neat and pretty enough so that people won’t run screaming from you.  For instance, internet, did you know taking a bath every day is a good habit?  Also, don’t wear red nail polish if you have stubby fingers.  It’ll draw attention to your gross deformity, and you’ll probably end up in the Mutter Museum, you freak.