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Black Pearl - Evocative of the sea's unplumbed mysteries. Gentle and lovely, but menacing and profound. Coconut, Florentine iris, hazelnut and opalescent white musk.
* Shadow - A subtly menacing blend of lemon verbena, white sandalwood and cedar, dimmed by droplets of the darkest patchouli.
* Ulalume - Starry white lilies lend an eerie brightness to the deep black wooded scents of cypress and oak, layered with a touch of crushed dried leaves and the faintest aquatic note.
Once in a while, something comes along that reminds me of the 80's dork I once was. Something gets past the Metallica obsession I've cultivated, and reminds me of my roots in 80's rock and pop. Of when I wallpapered my room with pictures of the heartthrobs in Tiger Beat and Bop magazines. One such man is:
I've had a crush on Rick Springfield since I was 12. I was lucky enough to meet him in 2000, I felt like I was that 12 year old again - I couldn't talk! By the way, he smelled like the bubblegum he was chewing, and when he posed for a picture with me he rested his cheek on my head... not that I'm obsessive or anything.
Now I've discovered that he's coming back to the casino here in town for a concert in July! I bribed a friend to go with me last time, and I don't think I can get her to do it again... so I'll have to find another victim.. I mean, concert buddy.
I think I'll do a BPAL-centric entry with current favorites. I first found the site in September 2004, and did my usual hem-and-haw browsing. I try not to be an impulse shopper as I could get in some serious financial trouble. I finally placed an order in October 2004 and received it in December: a 5ml of Perversion and a 6-pack of imps. Oh Perversion, you cheeky thing! What a great first scent to get, and I was immediately hooked.
I started purchasing off the forums and eBay on top of placing orders, but cut that out soon after (see above re: trying not to go overboard). So I place monthly Lab orders for no more than 3 bottles, usually on Lunacy dates, and of course swap whenever something good pops up. No bankruptcy yet!
Here are my current loves, in the order of the bottles hanging out in my box:
Dead Man's Hand
Tarot: The Star
Dia de los Muertos
Parlement of Foules
Yeah. That's a lot, and that's less than half of the total bottles (most of which I like but aren't madly in love with, unlike the above-listed ones). I am utterly hopelessly smitten.
I have never blogged before (please refrain from gasping ) so bear with me if my entries seem alittle too random, I'll try and do my best not to ramble too badly.
A random confession: I've never used an Ipod and I don't care for cellphones (althrough I do own one that my father adopted because he spilled a drink on his own cellphone).
....Is not a good idea. I find I tend to buy more items and spend more money if sleep deprived. My latest late-night acquisition was a dvd of Gankutsuou - The Count of Monte Cristo - Chapter 2 (anime), which I purchased at about 3am or so on (I think) Saturday. I can't wait to watch it, but its really the principle of the thing...
So, and this is a truly random topic, but I was reading the manga (graphic novel) Berserk Volume 3 a few days ago. The reason this is relevent is because the main character uses a huge broadsword, and has done a strength training exercise since childhood that involves doing a hundred repetitions of raising the broadsword in both hands above his head and bringing the blade slashing downward (keeping the sword held steady and aimed straight in front of him the whole time) in a controlled arc. He repeats this until he's reached a hundred repetitions of the movement. Being the Middle Ages freak that I am, I own several swords in my collection of medieval time-period related items and I suddenly, inexplicably, decided to try this very strength training exercise in the middle of reading the manga in question.
All of the swords in my collection are of decent or good grade metal but some are better made than others, or worth more, and all are of different styles. I chose a light-weight sword to practice this out with because I hadn't worked out in a while and still wanted to do all of the hundred repetitions.
I tried out this exercise in my upstairs living room (it was 11 pm at night; I am a bit of a night owl, and I couldn't practice out in the yard where there would be more space for safety reasons), so I took care to avoid the ceiling fan in particular amongst the furniture that might prove bothersome. I have practiced sword technique in my living room before so I know what to avoid (by previous trial and error of course! ). I started to ground (balance) my stance, one foot slightly in front of the other, and grasped the grip (basically, the handle/bottom portion of the sword below the blade) of the sword with both of my hands, bringing the blade to point straight north (as linear I could make it, anyway) in front of me. I raised the sword carefully over my head and then swung the blade downward in my best attempt to keep the swing of the blade in a steadily aligned arc of motion and then raised the blade again and repeated. I rested a few seconds after 20 repetitions and then repeated 20 more, and because I like to make things an even number, I did do this atleast hundred times, resting a few minutes every 20 reps or so. I watched Cartoon Network (which is basically comprised of shows like Family Guy around 11pm or 12am 6 out of 7 nights a week) while I did this and this exercise really was a nice change from doing pushups/sit-ups, etc. Afterwords, I could really feel the burn in my stomach area and upper arms, and I've been doing the hundred repetitions every few nights these last few days because the experiment has thus far proved a success, and works the stomach area alot more than I thought it would.
Its a much simpler exercise than practicing a whole routine of blade or staff moves (which is pretty difficult to do since my living room has a lot of furniture to worry about avoiding when moving around with a sword or staff) and its not as annoying as doing sit-ups on a hardwood panelled floor(ouch!). Plus, the act of swinging the sword up and downwards in an arc works the arms as well as the stomach and to a lesser extent the shoulders/back. Comparatively, I have found crunches (which is my most regularly used exercise move) to have much less (if practically any) impact on the arms and to often end up making my neck hurt. I also plan on trying this with my heavier staff (I own two staffs, one of a lighter weight and one that is much heavier and longer) just for a change of pace. I'll still do crunches, but I've found its good to have variety.
So there you have it. I got a workout move from reading a manga. Yet another reason to read graphic novels. And to be eclectic and bored.
He trusts her. He continues to work silently over blueprints scattered across the living room rug as she presses her lotion-chilled fingers into the welts, all the angry red patches on his back. She works to cover all the places his skin has betrayed him.
His body seems, in all its solidity, horribly frail. He is an unbalanced chemical equation tipping forward on his haunches, always threatening to tumble away from her. Away and down into the dark valleys where she can't find a path to follow.
She tries to hold on with her slippery hands. Her palms linger on his shoulders, much longer than needed to set the medicine into his skin.
She resists the urge to shake him roughly, shake him back into the man he was.
He trusts her not to do this, not to stomp and wail and disrupt the little bit of foothold he has left. He trusts her to hold on, keep an anchor, keep him steady. He trusts her to trust that he will come back.
I'm sleeeeeepy today. I worked late last night, didn't eat enough the entire day (that happens when I get hyped) and then a girlfriend from work wanted to get a quick martini after the legislature finally adjourned at 8:30 pm.
A Cosmopolitan on an empty stomach is rather potent. It pisses me off that I have to love the sterotypical "Sex and the City" drink, but I do, in spite of myself. I love Sea Breezes too, and maybe I should start ordering them. I just love booze and cranberry juice and I still prefer Cosmos to Sea Breezes because I could take or leave the grapefruit juice.
My friend had a dirty martini with olives and a little bit of blue cheese, or something like that, sprinkled on the olives. She said it was yum, it looked kind of good, but ugh, I know I would have hated it with a deep and abiding passion. I am a fruity sort, in so many ways.
My girlfriend is fun, a diva, and we had a nice chat. We've both been so busy with work that we haven't talked that much recently. Once the legislative session ends, we have to get back to that periodic check-in over martinis.
OK, my perfume is still in the Tunisian Patchouli and O rut, loving it, my bra is a pretty shiny pale blue fabric with almost goldish undertones, with a gold-bronze lace accent. The bits are covered by a thong, in this great retro tattoo print fabric. Mainly blue and white, but with some red tattoo heart designs.
I anxiously await a CnS on my first Monster Bait order (underbed) and a GC order. I've been tracking the CnS thread this week, and my time is growing near. I always feel like a virgin bride awaiting her beloved when I know an order is coming...
Hey! What's happening? I feel elderly as I have never blogged. So I'm testing!
I guess I'm pretty happy in general, as opposed to my blog title. Matt Groening (pre-Simpsons) used to have a little comic in LA Weekly called "Life in Hell" (maybe he still does? I haven't checked) and there were a few collections that were published in the '80s with such titles as "Love Is Hell" and "Work Is Hell." One of his strips was the 9 types of couples, and DH and I fit the mold of Sourballs vs. the World, i.e. "can you believe the crap that is on TV?" Hence the title of my blog and DH's website.
We started dating in January 1991, when I was 20 and he was 25. I know! That sounds like I was a baby, but of course I didn't feel like a baby because I was so effing mature. Heh. We got our own place in July '91, and my parents were pretty accepting considering their 20-year-old was moving out with some guy she knew for a year. But here we are, 15 years later. Things turned out fine, Mom.
Well, maybe not...that's a case of shock advertising for ya!
Last week Thursday-ish I developed chest pains, like I had been screaming for hours and my throat was raw. I wish my life was that exciting . It was accompanied by minor blah cold symptoms, but were easily forgotten and gone within 3 days. However, my cough is still here and is getting worse. It's a dry cough and I can't do anything about it. Cough drops, medicine, and liquids just don't seem to help. I blame moving to NJ with all its deciduous trees.
Anyways, I still prepared myself with these defense mechanisms for my evening international political economy class. Just as it was getting started, I was seized with an uncontrollable coughing fit. I'm not kidding you, I must have beet red, my eyes were streaming the tears as I desperately tried to make it stop. Class was stopped so everyone could stare at me...so embarrassing. Single-handedly the most out of control coughing fit I have ever had (and I've had nmeumonia and mono)
I spent the next 20 mins convulsing as the coughs tried coming up while I fought to keep them down. I must have looked so silly.
Cut to the end of the class where I'm walking out with the professor and she says to me, "you were quiet in class today."
whoo hoo, years or desire for the small bar have finally come to fruition! yahooooooo happy birthday to me, i gave myself a trip to the piercer, he custom ordered an 18g black crome cute wee labret, it didn't hurt a bit and looks fabu.
the flip side i had pt which once again kicked my ass, seems i am sliding backwards not getting better. i hate pt
I was all excited about placing into the college level algebra... went in today, and the instructor jumped into chapter 5. Chapter 5!!!@#$#$!!~@@#!!~!#$%&(#! Dude, I'm not that smart. Seriously. And it's the first day! I don't have my freaking books! I didn't get the financial aid check until saturday!! Then, she tried to play it off like it was school policy for us to have to get the customized book with the cd-tutorial thing so that we could all take our quizzes from it or some crazy shit, but when I went to the bookstore, the manager (not some student employee, but the actual manager) seemed flabbergasted that we'd be required to get that book. Also, a bunch of people in the class had already gotten the book, and hadn't gotten the one with the tutorial, which cost them an extra $40. And I knew it'd be hard, but I wasn't expecting it to sound like she was speaking a foreign tongue.
So I looked over the homework, and none of it is making any sense to me. At all. And it makes me feel awful, because it's not even that advanced, I just don't have the foundation I need, apparently. And I'm starting to panic because I need this class... If I can't cut it, I'll have to spend 3 quarters on JUST math. Which means it'll be a whole year of waiting to accomplish the prereq's for the radiology program, so it'll be pushed back to the summer of '08 instead of next year, and that's if I'm lucky and all the stars align and.... Wow, I'm insane. And english is sounding like it may become a class I'll hate, sadly. But I'm going to stay with it because I think I may like the instructor... tentatively. I don't know. I'm pretty insane.
Alright...My order for the update will be
The Monster Baits (maybe)
Imp Pack of
On thursday I have to pay about 60 bucks in decant circles and get an imp box I wanted.
As for the disappointment. I think I am going to give up on swapping. I have had good experences but it seems like people are getting a little elitist. Makes me wonder if people really do buy bpal just to sell it at huge mark ups. Makes me sad....I think I'll just swap or give away to those people on my friends list that I think might like the scents.
Saves me from worrying about shit...
The Snarks went house shopping this weekend.
And it was good. No, no future home came out of it, but they've made a connection with a realtor who seems honest enough. He might have laughed a little too hard at some of Snarky's jokes, but they were pretty damn funny.
They went to eight houses in about four hours. It was good to feel them all out, interact with them. But it was also very tiring. Walking through the empty spaces, voices echoing off of outdated tiles and fugly cabinetry. Each room demanded five alternative placements for beds, sofas, coffee tables (Yes, the Snarks own two. No, they don't exactly know how that happened.)
Each house was the setting for a new part of their lives together. Each house was the beginning of a different path. Their minds bloomed, unfurled into these eight different paths. Lifetimes bubbled forth like kudzu, trying to cover every inch of possibility.
But none of the stories were quite right. The corners were too sudden, the proportions grating against some invisible outline. They reeled back in all the strands of possiblity. Wrapped them into loose hanks to hang at the ready for the next throw.
Later that night, Snarky stood naked in front of the half-mirror in their tiny apartment "walk in" (more like, "side-step in and pivot") closet. She looked at herself, tried to prognosticate. Perhaps it was the morning's house-hunting exercises that gave her flickering future-visions. She saw herself whole, hearty, healthy. She saw herself shriveled, diminished, in pieces. She touched her chest and tried to find a clue to what the next chapter would bring.
I'm in a rut, but it's a lovely rut, and a rut that I am happy to wallow in. I'm still wearing Tunisian Patchouli with O slathered over the top. It is a nice dirt rut with a bucket of honey and nuggets of amber poured into it. It works for this time of year. My body chem is very seasonal and this is the Tunisian patchouli time of year; it gets too overwhelming when the weather cools off, and even now, I like I much better when it's layered and softened with the O.
I have a tattoo of a triskele on my sacrum; I got it because I love Celtic spirals and it reminds me of the New Grange stone carvings. I've had it for several years now and I only recently discovered that in "The Story of O," the protagonist (or maybe I should say the pro-agonyist) wears a ring with a triskele design. As a result, in some quarters, the triskele is a symbol for BDSM.
So I wear O, I have a triskele tattoo, someone give me my leathers and a whip! A friend of mine used to get a catalog from a place called "Dream Dresser," and he always passed it on to me. Oh my. It made me want to become a domme on the spot. He stopped getting the catalog and we looked up the company on the web, and sadly, I think they're defunct.
All that said, I never do the domme act. I think I have more fun making people believe that I would make them get down on their knees and bark like a dog, than I ever would have if they actually did so.
Oh yes! I have on an eggplant-colored bra. One of the VSC bandolier minimal-padding numbers. I really like the way that the straps look, they're wider-set and very flattering. And I love the color. My panties are black mesh bikinis. I do have undies to match the bra, but they tend to produce VPL (visible panty line) and I have on a pair of those long shorts/short trousers with dark hose. I didn't want to ruin the line.
So I've been told that men love VPL as long as it's not incredibly evident. Just a shade of it that find rather sexy, just because they get to think about your panties. But is that true? What have you heard? Do report back...consider it a research mission.
Back to my fragrant rut...
We're back from vacation! I'll post some pics in my gallery. Vacations are great, but there's no place like home. I must really be a homebody at heart.
I feel so out of the loop, with the forum being down from like 3/13-3/25 and then me being on vacation from 3/25-4/2! One of these days I'll get caught up.
Went to see the cherry blossoms today. I don't exactly know why we go each year when we have a friggin cherry blossom tree in our front yard. I tried to convince my parents that going sometime other than opening weekend and taking the metro would be easier as we wouldn't have to deal with crappy District parking, but my dad insisted on driving. So he did. Ugggghhhh. 40 minutes to drive into DC and another 50 to find a parking space.
That 50 minutes were spent driving at around 15 miles per hour and stopping to let the pedestrians cross where there weren't any crosswalks. Bastards. I hope some of them realize the only reason they didn't get yelled at was because they had a &*(^&ing stroller with them Other (DC) motorists weren't as nice. As you can tell, I haaaate large crowds. Also, when the sign by the WWII memorial fountain says Please Respect the Memorial by Not Wading In It and Not Throwing Coins, I think it means Please Respect the Memorial by Not Wading In It and Not Throwing Coins. Aside from the frustrations mentioned above, the trip was pretty good. The weather cooperated and was a beautiful, sunny 65 degrees, and we had a picnic lunch under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. Drove through Georgetown while I fantasized about doing damage to my credit card and the parents and I didn't fight. Not once. Victory!
Awhile ago, I think Bath and BW had some sort of buy three things for $25 deal I, on a whim decided to buy the antibacterial soap in Ginger and White Tea (or something). I am very happy I did. It smells like Embalming Fluid when it's still in the bottle. Happyhappyjoyjoy.
As much I despise Dave Matthews Band, I have to say that their collaberation with Ben & Jerry's ice cream yields some of the yummiest B & J's ever. One Sweet Whirled is one of my favorites but Magic Brownies (vanilla ice cream swirled with raspberry and brownie bits) is slowly but surely edging it out.
I find it almost impossible to believe that I have not mentioned shoes in any of my blog entries. Shoes of the high-heeled, ankle-strapped, bordering on Bettie Page fetish heels, retro-style shoes, platform thongs for the summer, boots of all varieties. The shoe fetishists always are agog. I have a pair of stiletto heels, pumps with the newer rounded toe, the fabric has small multi-color polka dots. When I wore them last week, they were compared to 1) confetti on New Year's Eve, and 2) cupcakes with sprinkles on the top, and 3) Easter Eggs. Are those shoes a Roschach test of sorts?
I once had someone tell me that the shrinks believe men become foot/shoe fetishists because they sat at their mother's feet adoringly as wee boys, and somehow the association with feet and the love of a woman merge in their brains. Well. Their mommas probably didn't wear shoes like mine.
One of my girlfriends calls me the shoe whore, and made up a Dr. Seuss book title of sorts for me, called: "Who Shore The Shoe Whore Of Her Shoes?"
However, for every yin there is a yang, and I also own two pairs of Dansko clogs, a really ugly but comfy pair of Keens, about 4 pairs of Birkenstocks (one pair is close to 20 yrs old) and one pair of Merrells. I have to keep my feel happy during their down time from the stilettos. And I'm wearing my Adidas athletic shoes as I write.
I won't even get into the effect that good lingerie and great high heels have when worn in concert. Just look at Bettie Page for the ultimate example of the incendiary nature of such combinations!