Ever Been In One of Those Moods?
(sharks commenting on how most surfers deserve it)
my occasional musings on life, love, art, perfume ... what else is there?
For Wiccans, Samhain is a time for letting go of the old and looking ahead to the new, a time when the veil is most sheer between living and dead; Samhain is the end of the harvest season, a time when Pagans pay their respects to departed loved ones, ancestors, and guides in the spirit world.
The Princess of Pique is having a nostalgic moment tonight. And sees fit to regale you with the lyrics from an old favorite Beatles song. (Unfortunately, not from Revolver, which would go with the illustration. Dammit. But from Meet the Beatles (thank you, Aral.) (Good song, nonetheless.)
Every perfumista has a lemming (or twenty) that they fell out of love with ... the perfume you had to have, got ... and now: meh. What better time than Halloween ... All Hallows Eve ... The Day of the Dead ... to pay homage to those bottles where you lost that lovin' feelin'? Mine? *whisper* L'Artisan Voleur de Roses. My first love. Now either the bottle's gone bad or my chemistry's changed or ... the thing just stinks. I have cried over it and moved on. Why don't you list yours and do the same? Poor dears.
No matter where one stands on the political spectrum, it is inappropriate to take any pleasure out of this indictment. And, frankly, rabidly partisan liberal Democrat that I am, I'm shocked to feel this way.
In the middle of the first term of school, and I'm assessing how I'm doing with the dealing-with-humans part of it all: that's always the tough part, I think. Figuring out the "emotional intelligence" of your work environment. And I think I'm doing ok.
Approximately 1800 of the 2000 died since the end of major combat and President Bush's announcement of "Mission Accomplished."
Because we** at c'est chic are not solely concerned with smelling good and learning legal, as a public service today we reprint the list of Superfoods (as espoused by Steven Pratt, in his book SuperFoods RX: Fourteen Foods That Will Change Your Life.) *we keep wanting to call him Jack Sprat*
Liz is 40! And the mother of Nicholas, and a graphic designer, and a really wonderful knitter, and a sweet, thoughtful human, and the paramour of Peter (!) who actually seems to deserve her, and she has long legs and blonde hair and good taste and is a skilled photographer and makes excellent tomato-red pepper soup and spinach salad and has taken care of me when I've been broken hearted and is one of the dearest women I have ever known. Happy Birthday, sweety! The yarn is in the mail!
When my father met my mother
Our dear friend, Still Life, of Dancing In Place, wouldn't ask ... but I'm offering: the power of all of our positive thoughts for her as she recuperates from a hospital procedure.
Today's fragrance: Christian Dior Hypnotic Poison. Considering how strident and, to me, FRUITY, the original Poison was, this fragrance was quite a surprise. Almost translucent on me, even though I applied a cream of the same fragrance underneath. I really like the subtle woods/bitter almond/ vanilla of it. Sheerly Ladylike. As opposed to the Blatant Hussyness of CD Poison *open a window and get that purple bottle away from me!*
And I think you know what I mean.
I have a test on Tuesday and I hope some of this sticks. Wish me luck?
I received a sample order from DSHperfumes[.com] and included was this week's favorite fragrance: Ashram.
Today, British playwright Harold Pinter won the 2005 Nobel Literature Prize. A prolific writer, his work includes plays, screenplays, prose and poetry. His politics are vehement ... he is adamantly against the war in Iraq and one can't help but believe his selection in some sense reflects a global community's applause of this worldview.
Maybe it's because I feel very pressured. Or maybe it's because it is Yom Kippur and my soul is working hard elsewhere.
My 23rd post was titled But A Rose Is Not A Rose Is Not A Rose and the fifth line of text read: "There is a subtle subset of unexpected rose fragrances designed, sometimes I think in defiance, by the most accomplished and least known perfumers in the world."
It's a privilege and an honor to be tagged by Janey of Janey's Journey!
So, behaviorally, Bucky has been a wonderful dog, lately.
Jim is of Croatian extraction and has long talked about wanting to see his ancestors' homeland. Sadly, even though he lived in Germany, he was never able to see it ... because it was then still behind the Iron Curtain. And it was far from my list of places to visit when I was in Europe.
There was a discussion in one of my classes last week on the various stereotypes that can affect a just legal outcome.
I like to lie there in bed when I first wake up, checking symptoms.
I've been blogging since March 25, 2005 and keeping blogstats since June. This morning I woke up to find we crossed the 20,000 hit mark! 20,013 as of this very minute! And I'm not sure what they mean, but below are the usage patterns for the past four months.
I was digging through some stuff in my beauty file (Yes, I have a beauty file. Your point?) and found this article by Anna Johnson (an Australian writer who wrote one of my favorites: Three Black Skirts is All You Need to Survive. Seriously, I love that book.) that inspired me (LBOS isn't the only one divinely inspired) to share with you (I added a few comments).
We watched a PBS special on Bob Dylan that we'd taped ... and I've been carrying around the music for three days now. Thrown back to a time when I still thought there existed a rarified, counterculture few who really knew what was going on. Little hippie chick in my overalls with the embroidered rainbow, sitting in a coffeehouse, listening to friends butcher music like this:
So yesterday I'm sitting in the Contracts class, for which I turned in my videotaped writing assignment and in which we are supposed to have a quiz the last 25 minutes of the class. And she's lecturing along very interestingly. And lecturing. And lecturing. And I'm staring up meaningfully at the clock BECAUSE IT'S TIME TO HAVE THE QUIZ, dammit and she lectures right through the quiz time. Because she was on a roll and forgot we were supposed to have a quiz. BUT MY BODY CHEMISTRY WAS ALL WORKED UP TO HAVE THE QUIZ, dammit and I can't believe how disappointed and even upset I was over not getting to take the quiz and so she says we can take it home and do it openbook and turn it in next class and I think WHAT GOOD IS THAT? Does that give me an opportunity to show off and leave my 19 year old classmates in my dust? I submit to you IT DOES NOT.
The Jewish New Year -- Rosh Hashanah -- begins at sunset tonight and ends at nightfall on Wednesday
Today Bucky has been with us a year, and since we don't know exactly when he was born, we're celebrating it as his 8th birthday. I'm baking him a dog cake *this ought to be interesting* and here's the recipe (Happy, happy birthday, dogboy!)
A man made a daily trip to the restroom in his office, for the obvious reason. Each visit, he noticed a spider in the toilet, scrabbling up the side, barely missing being drowned each time the toilet was flushed.
The performance anxiety dreams have started. Not two weeks into the semester and last night, I had my first dreams about turning in papers and, when it's time to get our marks, waiting anxiously for the feedback, preening a little because I know how good I am (heh): NO PAPER COMES BACK TO ME. It disappeared. It's as if I never turned it in. I don't exist.