Saturday, June 18, 2016

Wallflowers: Scented Anxiety

Bath and Body Works is having its semi-annual sale again.  These events make me crazy because 1) I can't stay away even though I swear I will, and 2) I end up buying stuff that I don't want, making at least one return trip necessary.  So far, I have visited four stores.  You have to shop around because they all have their own cool stuff.  Everybody knows that.

This year, just to shake things up, I have ventured into a new area: wallflowers.  Until now, they seemed too scary to assemble, but I figure what the hell, I'm a big girl - I can handle this.  The scent holders themselves are puzzling...I can't imagine under what circumstance I would want a 5-inch anchor jutting out of my wall, or a seashell.  Or a turtle.  And what scents are best?  By my count, there's five thousand and forty options.  Baffled, I stare at them for a long time and wonder how I want our rooms to smell.  Like fruit?  Flowers? Cinnamon rolls? They have 'em all.

After sniffing the matching candles, I settle on three scents: Vanilla Beach Flower, Georgia Peach and Frosted Cupcake.  When I get home, just for fun, I read the reviews of these room scents and promptly decide that they all suck.  By relying only on my stellar instincts alone, I have chosen three of the lowest rated scents on the website. 

According to reviews of long time wallflower warriors, Heirloom Pumpkin is a stunning scent with 'throw' and longevity.  B-man likes the smell of pumpkin, which emboldens my decision making. Certain I have avoided a what stinks debacle, I trade the three losers in for three of the pumpkin saviors and hurry home to plug in my very own wallflower, waiting to swoon in delight.  

I hate Heirloom effing Pumpkin.

More smells might be tested, but the process already has me stressed out and gearing up for an Oscar worthy anxiety attack. There's a reason I stayed away from wallflowers all these years.

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Friday, June 10, 2016

Ode to the Flu...My Week in Review

Stale breath
Unwashed hair
Stinky armpits
Chicken soup
Sweaty sheets

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Saturday, June 4, 2016

Perfume That Made Me Eat Crow: Heiress by Paris Hilton

Paris Hilton's Heiress has popped up several times on this blog.  I thought if I mentioned it in passing, like 'I wear it, but only at night,' or 'I bought the body spray because I was bored and it was there,' no one would judge me or confiscate my ID card to the Perfumista Club.  Probation is a constant threat, but I still use words like 'flanker' and 'sillage.'  That's got to count for something.

To demonstrate my loyalty to said club, I scoffed at Paris Hilton perfumes for years so that everyone would know I had higher standards than they did and was therefore superior.  And I scoffed out loud, not in my head like usual.  I'm talking audible pshhh-ing plus an eye roll with my nose in the air. Chortling may have been involved.

Then came Heiress, which produced an almost obscene OMG moment.  Maybe it was the skittles-wrapped-in-dryer-sheets vibe or maybe the feeling that I was walking past a lilac tree while peeling an orange and chewing bubble gum.  Either way, Heiress is a girl crush in a bottle. 

Bad news is the journey from scoffing to swooning requires eating a few helpings of crow, which sucks because I almost had the chortling thing down.  And crow tastes nasty.  But I must be getting used to it because I just bought two more Paris Hilton perfumes unsniffed: Passport Tokyo and Passport Paris. The most embarrassing part, other than standing in the checkout line forever so everyone knows I'm buying Paris Hilton perfumes? I actually like them.

What the hell...I faked the ID, anyway.

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