And like most ladies I load up on every product that will keep my face looking fresh, clean and daaaamn good.

But according to a recent article in The New York Times, most ladies are pretty dumb for buying into all that facial cream mumbo jumbo.

No matter how smart we are, we all want to believe that a skin cream can fix all of our problems. Yes, even relationship issues. And it doesn’t hurt when the beauty companies throw scientific terms into the mix, furthering our beliefs that this product is different, and that one really will work!

But if what all the experts in this article say is true, we could get the same effect from a wash cloth and some basic soap that we would get from purchasing a $40 bottle of “rejuvinating night cream.” The same goes for all those “cellular level cleansers,” “biomolecular” eyecreams, and that “microsmoothing” face serum.

Yes, the stuff works, but it really doesn’t take much to do what those bottles are doin’.

I don’t know about you, but I just feel sorta dumb. The cabinet under my sink is full of miracle bottles that promise to make me look like Jennifer Garner even after a night of binge drinking and dancing on tables. But it’s all a sham.

A big fat lie.

It looks like the only thing that we need to keep our faces lookin’ so fresh and so clean (clean) is a cheap bottle of soap and a nice thick layer of concealer.

You’re in a relationship. Obviously, there’s something compatible between you and your partner. But once the break-up hits, BAM! Everything changes. It’s very difficult to get back to the friendship level, if possible at all.

Breaking up doesn’t just mean you’ve lost a mate, but a really good friend as well. In fact, you’ve probably lost several friends, because now it’s taboo for either of your own friends to associate with the other’s ex. It could also mean you’ve lost a confidante, a study pal, a Guitar Hero partner (or the entire game, if it was his!), a personal chef, or whatever your now-ex used to do that made the relationship special.

It also means a definite disturbance in many, most, or all of your daily routines. Whether you called each other every day to talk through your commutes to school, or you were living together, suddenly, there’s something missing. And even if the break-up was necessary or inevitable, that void is a gaping hole in your life. That keeps getting bigger. And just won’t go away.

If you think about it, breaking up is kind of like quitting a job: when you quit your job, you find yourself alone in a sea of opportunities. But which one is right for you? You might stay unemployed for a while, or you might bounce around from job to job for a little bit because you can’t find another decent job. If you’re lucky, you might fall right into a perfect new career. In either case, when you leave the first job, you change your routine, you see less of your former coworker-friends, and you have to actually quit.

But, sometimes leaving a job isn’t so bad. If you leave on good terms, you get to put in your two weeks notice. Everyone knows it’s coming. Suddenly, the irritating bits aren’t so bad because you know it’s almost over, and you can reminisce about the good times you had over the years. On the final day, you get to hug everyone and promise to keep in touch, and maybe even go out and celebrate by drinking your face off. The best part? Leaving a job on good terms might leave the doors open; you might be able to saunter back in and say, “I made a mistake, and I’m ready to come back.” Or get a glowing reference for the future.

Is it possible for the breakup to go the same way?

If only we could give two-weeks’ notice to our mate. Get in fourteen more days of the good stuff, hell, maybe squeeze in a lusty goodbye screw, and then leave with a clear conscience. We’d have plenty of time to clean out our metaphorical office– i.e. the drawer he cleaned out for you in his dresser– and say the things you really want to say before you go back into the dating scene. Plus, if we can call our former employers for networking, references, or career advice, maybe there would be hope to dial our exes when we need the sage advice only a former bedmate can give. Or, just maybe, some cute friends we might be able to meet?

Is it true though? Or are the tabloids just running exaggerated fantasies to harpoon mass appeal? It’s hard to know because these grandiose lifestyles are perpetuated by the attention drawn to them (unless the celebrity is actually talented). Case in point — the Kardashian sex tape.

Bad publicity is good publicity, I suppose… especially for the venues that become associated with celebrity attendance (who doesn’t want to go to places where you might see a rockstar in a bar fight or catch Paris Hilton stripping down to… well… a slightly more naked version of her usual self?).

When talking about club publicity, nothing turns up the temp on a particular venue more than the drug habits of the celebrities. The scandalous behaviors of one Miss Britney Spears has made headlines for a variety of clubs in New York including an all time personal favorite, Marquee. Yes, she has been caught using drugs in the public bathrooms all around town and she’s not the only one. The question then becomes, of course, how many drugs are being done in these places? Certainly you run a high risk (pun intended) of being caught abusing drugs if you are a celebrity, but what about us ordinary folk? Are drugs swimming through the clubs as the tabloids would have us believe?

The answer is YES. I would never consider myself a drug abuser, but I know first hand that almost every club I have been to has it’s own underground microcosmic drug scene. Club Stereo was closed last year after several cocaine busts, though this came as no shock as Stereo was known for being “pot friendly” and leaving the club was like opening the Scoobie Doo van (smoke pouring out). Tenjune turns the other cheek when it comes to smoking the reefer in the VIP section and won’t ask why there are so many girls leaving the bathroom with runny noses. The real shocker comes from Le Souk where I witnessed some special k being snorted in the wide open.

I have also witnessed people getting arrested. Again, Club Stereo, you win in this department with flying colors. On two — no three occasions I witnessed drug raids there, but in the end, drug use was far far more frequent than the arrests that were made. This can probably be said true for almost any club and can be said especially true for celebrities. Amongst my celebrity encounters few involved sobriety (or much respect for, I dunno… THE LAW). Indeed, the Studio 54 mentality lives on in places like Bungalow 8 (where you might just order “a rum and coke.. hold the rum”).

These scenes are often under the radar of the public because of tight security. It’s nearly impossible to get in unless you know someone, ARE a celebrity or (at the very least) have your very own assistant. Places rarely have to answer to the law because undercover cops simply do not fit the demographic of these super-dooper (more like super-doper) high-end venues.

This doesn’t mean that the celebrity lives we read about aren’t embellished to perfection, but it certainly adds validity to the stories. The truth of the matter is, we aren’t living lives so separate from those we read about and if anything can be learned from the tabloids, it’s two things: 1) where the drugs are 2) where people get caught doing them.