Attention Deficit Friday

Yesterday, I caught myself in mid-attention deficit mode.  Not that it's the first time.

A glimpse into my world:

I should e-mail my team about the event on Wednesday.

But I'm hungry - don't I still have half a grapefruit in my fridge?

Wait, leave a post-it for Sarah about the database update first.

Where are my plastic spoons?

Eating grapefruit with a plastic spoon is going to be 

a pain in my ass.  

I should have peeled it like an orange.

I have to pee.

First, I'll e-mail the event on Wednesday.

What if this grapefruit squirts all over me? 

And where are the documents I printed for my 

10:00 meeting?

Okay, here they are.

Is that grapefruit juice on them?

That reminds me of the time I spilled Diet Coke all over my presentation.

I need to add a quote to my presentation in April.

I'll just google that quickly.

Now I really have to pee.

But wait, what about Wednesday's event?

Dammit, now I'm late for my 10:00 meeting...

The rest of my day was just more of the same.

Attention deficit?  I prefer 'multi-tasking.'

The only consistent thing about the day was my perfume, Moschino Couture.

Image from youthchg.com

Ode to Le Parfum by Sonia Rykiel

Melted Candle Wax

Roasted Red Pepper

Celery With Peanut Butter

Frangelico

Peach Crumble

Steel Beams

Silk Brocade

Image from perfumeemporium.com

Rant: Don't Chocolate Me To Death

One more chocolate chip cookie and I might snap.

Not that I eat them.  Some of us aren't crazy about chocolate.

So why do people continue ruining perfectly good cookies by lacing them with annoying little bits
of chocolate?

At work, cookies are provided at certain meetings I attend.  Last week, the cookie selection included:

Chocolate chip cookies

Dark chocolate cookies with chocolate chips

Oatmeal coconut cookies with chocolate chips

Pumpkin cookies with chocolate chips

WTF?

Would it kill them to include a couple of peanut butter cookies?  Sugar cookies?  Even oatmeal raisin could work (I've become quite adept at picking out the 'buggy' little raisins while preserving the integrity of the cookie).

And just try going to a banquet or any group event without being served some dark chocolate dessert with chocolate filling and chocolate frosting. 

How about some lemon meringue or cherry pie? 

Cheesecake? 

When people hear that I don't like chocolate, they look at me as if I have announced, from a microphone, 'Puppies are Ugly.'  

Some chick flick must have taught us that all women love chocolate like they love receiving fresh flowers.

Yeah, I don't like either of those things.  Flowers and a box of chocolates will just annoy me.

Wait, let me get this straight...you spent good money on all that when you could have just brought me cheese?

Chocolate seems to have meaning that goes beyond just food; it communicates a universal message of connection. 

If you eat chocolate, you must be one of us. 

Baaa, baaa.

Aside from the occasional Snickers (the peanuts, caramel and nougat keep the chocolate pinned in the corner, where it belongs), chocolate is not my thing.  

And I'm not alone.

So please, give us a break on the chocolate chip 
cookies, huh?

Image from muchmenus.com

Just A Typical Day At Our House

Me:  What stinks?

B-man:  What are you talking about?

Me: Something smells sour. (I sniff all around the kitchen at counter level.)

B-man:  What is it you smell?

Me:  It's the dish rag - that's just nasty.

B-man:  I just put a clean one out and they're 

brand new.

Me:  Well they must stink when they get wet, 'cause 

it's gross.

B-man: (Picks up the dish rag, smells it and shrugs)

Me: Sorry I'm so weird about smells.

B-man:  You're a  freak with that nose.

*Silence*

Me:  Wow, I am, aren't I?

B-man:  Yeah, but it's fun.

That's why we've been together 24 years.

Image of Ozzie and Harriet from originaloldradio.com

Put Your Little Foot Right There

Yesterday morning, I'm getting ready for work, doing my make-up and hair routine like any other day. 

(I try not to deviate much from this ritual and just hope to God the phone doesn't ring so I don't resume the process wrongly and end up forgetting my deodorant.)

To tolerate my growing hair - it's happy as a clam in the awkward stage - I've been letting my natural curl rule, 'scrunching' the hair while it drys.

At one point, squeezing my hair rhythmically with both hands, a tune begins to play in my mind.

Put your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right there;

Put your little foot, put your little foot, put your little foot right there.

I stop in mid-scrunch and remember my grandpa down the street doing this little dance with me, both of my hands in his.  I must have been about four years old.

He used to call me 'Peanut.'

Tears spring to my eyes as I am overcome with nostalgia and wonder.  Through the winding journey of my life, far from home, this precious memory has survived.

Gently, it taps me on the shoulder to ask for one 
more dance.

Image from coachinglifedesign.com

Great Perfume Loves...That I Never Wear

Some perfumes are so beautiful, I could cry.

Full bottles have been urgently purchased with the absolute intent of wearing them constantly, possibly even resurrecting the 'signature scent' theory.

I rarely wear them.  

What's up with that?

A few that fall into this category:

Ambre Sultan

Sycomore

Cabochard

Femme

L'Heure Bleue

Fracas

Eau du Soir

It's like they are so gorgeous, they belong in another time, or at least a dimension outside of my real life.  

Yeah, that's it.

No, this is really it: they reveal a side of me that is so private, so intimate, it's almost like I'm naked in public when I wear them.

Total and complete crap.

Okay, here's the reason...it's because I have so many perfumes that I just don't get around to wearing them, which is okay because wearing them cheapens their allure anyway.

Uh-huh, right.

The real reason?  

I have no f-ing clue.

Do you do this?  If so, what's your theory?

Image from hotref.com

Cuir de Lancome: Too Polite To Love

I like Cuir de Lancome.

Even the Diet Pepsi top note doesn't turn me off because I know right behind that is an amazing floral/leather heart note.

Heavy on the leather.

The first hour following the drydown teases me into believing I have found the leather perfume that will end my search forever.  For an hour, Cuir de Lancome is Absolute Perfection.

Riding boots with iris bulbs where feet should be.

After a couple of hours, however, I can't smell it at all.  Well, I can smell it by stuffing my nose into my wrist, but it's not the same perfume.

Now, it's all carrot juice and daffodils and dollar bills.   

Where the hell did the leather go?

Tonight, I apply L'Artisan's Passage d'Enfer and find myself wishing that Cuir de Lancome had more of that dirtiness in the drydown.  

But somewhere along the way, Cuir de Lancome starts feeling guilty about the bold, ballsy leather of the first hour.  She spends the rest of the day trying to act like the girl next door.

Gee, sorry if I got too leathery - just kidding.

Doesn't she know?  Great leather perfumes are never people pleasers.

Image from amazon.com