valentina

In the bottle, Theodosius is very strong, masculine and not at all sweet. The initial application on my skin, before drydown, is where the resemblance to Dorian most strikes me -- the fougere, musk and vanilla really bloom and I get a shot of that tart-but-sweet Dorian essence. Then Theo dries down and it becomes something altogether different, because the bergamot essence of the Earl Grey tea leaps out, but most pleasantly so. It's crisp and clean. After an hour or so, I detect the undertone of the jasmine leaf, which seems like a greener and less heavily floral jasmine. I am so lucky, this is a scent where the balance of the components holds on my skin, so I can't say that any one element is dominant. Theo also has a nice amount of holding power -- I put some on about 4 hours ago and I can still pick up its crisp, clean scent. Theodosius is my idea of a "clean" scent -- it's not too sweet or too citrusy or too musky or too vanilla-y or too floral; I do sound like Goldilocks, but this one is just right.

It looks like it was a beautiful and elegant wedding!

If you've read my blog before, this is hardly news to you, but to anyone who might have happened to stumble into here for the first time, I have an insanely annoying coworker. The only way we maintain sanity is to vent at each other via email. Fortunately, we have a relatively good sense of the absurd, and my other colleagues can be quite hilarious. Here's an example of some of vents that are just too funny not to share. If you can use them at your workplace, be my guest, steal our snarks: First, a rant of mine. I titled the note "I Must Document This Process:" The way that she is eating whatever foodstuff is on her desk sounds like this: Imagine people were bobbing for apples, except that they were supposed to suck them up out of the water rather than biting at them. There would be some really intense air intake and schlurping. Then there would be a lot of coughing due to the schlurped water, and nose blowing due to the schlurping and coughing. Now, imagine that they were bobbing for caramel apples, and once an apple was snagged, the caramel became stuck to their tongue and the roof of their mouth. Lots of smacking. To get relief from their intense effort, they'd take a huge swig of a tasty beverage, make that weird little gluggy noise that happens when there's too much liquid heading down the gullet, slam down the glass and exclaim: "AHHHHHHH!" -------------- Me: Sometimes, I swear, I listen to her and think of Louis Armstrong. Coworker: I see skies of blue and clouds of white The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night And I think to myself, what a wonderful world why do I have to sit here and listen to her. ------------- Annoying person is on a low carb diet, and announces it frequently: Me: I am going to sit back here and munch my ass off on my carb-laden crackers. Coworker: When she gets on that kick (OK, every day of her life!!) it just makes me want to sit there and eat an entire loaf of bread. ------------ Me: Here's my horoscope for today. Good grief! Daily Overview for September 08, 2006 Provided by Astrology.com Quickie: Extend a kind hand to the people in your life who use anger to hide their sadness. Overview: An extra dash of sensitivity will help your day run much more smoothly, especially when it comes to some bossy or moody types in your immediate vicinity. They may even return the favor in the near future. Coworker: Haven't your heard???? The horoscopes have been all screwed up since the damned astronomers decided to boot Pluto from the planetary alignment. Don't MESS with mother nature!!!!! I rechecked Yahoo for your Pluto-adjusted horoscope. It reads: Quickie: Extend a kind hand to Wield a meat clever against the people in your life who use anger to hide their sadness. Overview: An extra dash of sensitivity cutlery will help your day run much more smoothly, especially when it comes to some bossy or moody types in your immediate vicinity. They may even return the favor remain quietly in their cubicle in the near future. ---------------------- Me: Isn't she a delicate thing? Coworker: ----------------delicate…….like a thorn in your retina. ---------------------- In addition to being on a low-carb diet, the annoying one has a Labrador Retriever that is the most of whatever you're talking about -- bigger, smarter, horribly-behaved, best-behaved, toughest, wimpiest... it doesn't matter, because as one of the guys in the office wrote: My dog's bigger than your dog, My dog's bigger than yours, My dog's bigger than your dog, Because he's been on this low carb diet to try to lose some weight, don't you know, but it's just so hard, it's just---so---hard…..and he just can't seem to stick with it…..he likes the cottage cheese, but all that other low carb yucky stuff he just spits out and runs off to eat a bag of chips or a bowl of popcorn or a loaf of Wonder Bread or an entire angel food cake or a pie (he just loves pie) with lots of high carb sugar in it; he won't even eat meat loaf unless it has Grape Nuts or oatmeal filler in it; sometimes he'll eat some of that low carb yicky stuff, but then it just goes all to hell because he'll just run off to his dog house (he has a really cool dog house, you know) and drink a bunch of beer and eat a couple of bags of Cheetos and a big pile of French fries smothered with a huge mountain of mashed potatoes and then he gets all depressed and refuses to go to obedience class and just lays around thinking about carbs; it's hard, it's just--so--hard, it's just--so--very--very--hard; but, My dog's bigger than your dog, My dog's bigger than yours, My dog's bigger than your dog, So to hell with everybody in South Beach!

for the Return of the Darkitysnark! I think there is a darkity photographic style emerging, and I could see an art show titled: "The World Through Darkity Eyes." Lots of intriguing back-of-head shots, profiles, reflected images, half-face shots. Seriously. I love photographs like that. They make me laugh and they pique the imagination. It looks like the cruise was nice; beautiful sunsets and FOOD. I too want to hear more! Edited because I shouldn't write comments and talk on the phone at the same time.

I am especially fond of running across people in relatively odd get-ups. Outfits that are vaguely off rarely mean much to me; instead, I'm talking things that don't even fit in the fashion faux pas category because you don't know where to begin. Things that are almost mind-bendingly odd, because they are being worn by a person who is obviously not mentally ill. There is a very distinct difference between mixed-up clothing thrown on by some poor soul who has a lot of personal difficulties and by an otherwise functioning individual whose innate style compass has become seriously skewed. It's one of those weird autumn days when you just don't know what to wear; it's sunny, but only about 62 degrees and it's windy. Days like today are always a good opportunity to find some weird clothing combos going on, and I saw one when I was walking back into the building after lunch. This woman was evidently out on a late-lunch stroll for a bit of exercise. She had on a long, almost ankle-length skirt that had a design on it that was a cross between a batik print and a tropical print. The background was black and the design was a bright blue. I like black and bright blue together, and it was a nice skirt. But on the top, she had on a casual, sporty, waist-length, zip-up, water-repellent material windbreaker. Some sort of Nike design/lettering on it; the colors were white with baby blue. She had short hair and she was wearing a blue and white visor. On her feet she had blue and white flip-flops. The pretty skirt drew me in and then the picture became oddly distorted. But my favorite weird combination is one I saw about 4 or 5 years ago; it was again about this time of year, but it was a cool and rainy day. I was walking downtown on my lunch hour and looked across the street as I waited at a light. There was a woman in a sort of Laura Ashley-style skirt, long, fluttery, a cream-colored background with a tiny rosy flower print. Suntan-colored hosiery. (Arghblargh! Maybe that's what Andy Garcia caught sight of at the end of "Ocean's Eleven?") Cream-colored, 1980's style pumps that were looking a smidge rugged. But on top of all of this, she wore a black NASCAR pit crew jacket. And the jacket was boldly emblazoned with the team sponsor logos, most prominently, Tide detergent soap. I think there was at least one beer logo, and maybe Slim Jims jerky snacks. I know all of this in detail, because the woman had her head down as she walked into the wind and misty rain, so she didn't see me when I stared at her as I walked by, and then when I turned around and walked backwards to check out the back of the jacket. I mean, wow. It's my favorite of all time. If she'd had on black leather pants and biker boots, the jacket would have been fine. If she'd had on a huge Irish sweater, I would have forgiven the '80's pumps. (Suntan colored hosiery is something that I never forgive. White legs are a far, far better thing, and actually make sense with a Laura Ashley theme.) The combination was, and still remains, unprecedented. So, the guy at Meadowlark who always tells me he loves me, the one who said his name means "Wandering Gypsy" in Czech and calls me "gypsy girl?" He just put out an album. I am serious; it's a small local recording company. They're selling his CD at Meadowlark and he saw me this morning and cajoled me into buying one. Here is something from his liner notes: "A special thanks to all the girls I have known, starting with my Mother, for giving me such great material for my songs. And to all the guys, remember that you need more than a good line and a lure to get the girl of your dreams. I love you all." And amazingly, his CD isn't bad at all. So if you've read this far and you're the first reader to respond, I'll send you his CD. Not my copy, I'll buy another one! There may be a lot of you thinking, oh my hell, I am so NOT responding until someone else reads halfway through the blog and decides to respond about bad clothing combinations! So really, if you don't want his CD, just say so, because I do want to hear about bad clothing combos that you have seen in your life and time. I love you all.

I love perfect little black dresses! Long or short? Sleeveless or sleeves? And now I must look at the socklady site, because while I like socks, my friend Ron loves socks even more. He is known to wear rather sassy socks with an otherwise very normal outfit. I am rather happy because today I found a pair of $79 dollar pants on sale, and purchased them for $13. I also found a Kenneth Cole tank top with a bit of a glitter in it (very low-key) that will work beautifully under suits when I pretend to be a grown-up in the winter. I think it was a $50 top and I got it for about $8. Love, love, love those sales!

I think that question could be a modern-day Zen koan!

We have a winner! And Kevin (my pal) would love you too. Lots. I'm PM-ing you...

Damn! I think the woman with the long dark hair was trying to get some rest next to your hubby and the jealous Samoan dude was having a fit! That is pretty freaky. No wonder you've watched "Poltergeist" so often that you've memorized chunks of dialogue!

I have never heard the term, but it kind of makes me think of a consipated weener. It's not a football term. What the Sam Hill? Son of a buck! (Sorry, I just had to use those terms because they always make me laugh.) I asked a couple of guys in the office and they've never heard it. I may have to Google it, now you have me so curious! ETA: From the anti-Webster's, the Urban Dictionary: http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=cock+block

It sounds to me like you were too damn tired and stressed to remember everything, and in my experience, it's often the most basic things that you forget when you're bordering on burnout. You have a lot on your plate right now! Are you sure you want to tell your mother that you forgot? Just from what I know of you here on the forum, "taking a break" to attend to other matters probably isn't your style, but it's the excuse that I'd use, sneaky slacker little shit that I am. Congratualtions on buying a house. It is a very positive event, but it is stressful, no matter what. That's rather high up there in the "big life events" category. I'm thinking you're going to have a glorious garden next year! You and darkitysnark will make Martha Stewart look like an amateur hack. ETA: Real estate agents and mortage companies exist to keep you from overlooking little details, especially when you're a first-time buyer. Don't worry! And, I hope your mom's surgery goes uneventfully and successfully. I know a woman in her mid-50's who has had both hips replaced, and it's astonishing how fast her recovery was each time. And she told me that compared to the pain of her bad hips, pre-surgery, the operation wasn't a problem at all.

Since Dawndie has written about this, and now Filgree Shadow has told her story, I guess I'm brave enough to tell my own paranormal story. If anything, they make good reading! My maternal grandfather died when I was 3.5 years old. My mother had helped my grandmother take care of him until he became too ill to stay at home, and she used to take me along. Just as an aside, this was not a good move, but my mother was of the opinion that little kids didn't "get it." She tends to think very small children simply don't have the ability to understand what's going on. But my first memories are of running through a room where he was in bed and I was utterly terrified of him, because cancer had moved to his brain and he was in a state of delirium. Today I have a galloping case of hypochondria, and the seed was no doubt planted at that early age. But I was his youngest grandchild by about 8 years, and word has it that when he was well enough to live relatively normally, he doted upon me. Based upon photos from what my mother always pronounced in melodramatic tones to be: "That. last. Christmas," this was, in fact, true. I also remember his funeral and my brother working very hard to keep me quiet, because I was rather giddy. My grandfather was dead, and he wasn't going to be around to scare the crap out of me anymore. And my beloved grandma might eventually stop crying. She always felt a lot of anxiety about me seeing him so sick, and my reaction to it. Then I felt bad about making grandma feel worse. Is it any wonder than I'm angsty? What I recall is that sometime after he died, I was sitting in the waiting room of a doctor's office with my mom. I wasn't sick -- I was getting some sort of immunization. The door of the waiting room opened and my grandpa walked in, dressed exactly as he was when he was well. He sat down across from us and was looking at a newspaper. I leaned forward and stared at him. I looked at my mom, who hadn't glanced up from her magazine. Because my mother has always been an inveterate people-gawker and normally seizes the opportunity to engage a captive audience in a conversation, this wasn't normal. And it was her dead father that she was ignoring! Dood, he's back, at least say hi! I kept staring at him then looking up her. He kept glancing up and saw me staring at him. He looked a little chagrined and wouldn't look directly at me. He acted like someone who was trying to not be seen. I leaned forward even closer, thinking he'd at least say hello. He laid down the newspaper and walked out. My mother kept flipping through the magazine like no one was there. I remember looking at her like she was insane. I can see this entire event in my mind so clearly, it's like it happened this morning. I always attributed this event to the notion that I was, in fact, sick, and my feverish little brain was working overtime. I never told my family about it. Then about 5 years ago, my mother told me a story about sitting with me in the waiting room of the doctor's office, less than a month after my grandfather had died. She couldn't remember why we were there, but she remembered that I wasn't sick. She said I became extremely, extremely quiet, and then turned, looked at her very seriously and very distinctly said: "I think if you look around here, you'll find grandpa." I never told her what I remembered, she wouldn't have accepted that as anything but my wild imagination. I've often read that little children can see and hear things that adults can't, and that the social maturation process shuts off that corner of our mind. I tend to agree with that. Also, never take a toddler along to do hospice care. Not a good idea at all.

I think people who retain the ability have adults around them who don't make them feel ashamed or silly when they talk about it. And you're hardly a poseur! If you weren't open to the notion, you certainly wouldn't have told us about your husband's experiences. And sometimes I think a lot of subtle things are happening to all of us on a routine basis, it's just that they's small enough that it doesn't draw as much attention.

Thanks for your story... I love it that you now knock on the basement door before going downstairs! I have a coworker whose mother was in a hospice during the final weeks of her life; the nurses who work there told my friend (who's very open to this sort of thing) that strange, inexplicable things always go on in hospices all the time and they just accept it as a fact. They said if you tried to stay scientific-rational about it, you'd go nuts. However, like you noted, they find it comforting and not threatening -- one nurse, in fact, told my friend to not belabor this issue or think she was crazy, but simply to be thankful that she able to witness the energy.

Well hells belles, I haven't written an entry in almost a week! What have I been doing? I'm getting busier at work and it cuts down on my recreational writing time. Whatta gyp! Last night I went to the pet food store to get some kitty food for Puddin' Tom, and the Italian Greyhound Rescue organization had a table set up by the door. The guy who's the local IG rescue coordinator was there with two of his foster doggies. The one was a bouncy youngster, about a year old. The other dog had some white on his face and was obviously a mature fellow. When I kneeled down to pet them, the older guy came over, put his eensy teensy little paws on my legs and snuggled his head against me and kind of whimpered and cried. The sweetie, the honey! There was another woman there and I wanted her to be able to pet him, but this little dog kept coming back and just leaning on me. I asked the IG rescue guy what the story was with the older dog -- he said it was an owner surrender. This couple had owned two IGs since the dogs were pups; one dog was 9 and the other was 8. They decided that the dogs were getting older and might get more high-maintenance, so they just turned them over to rescue. Kind of like the dogs were motor vehicles. What doucebags. This little dog kept looking at me with his big sad eyes, and you could tell he's just confused. And sad. And frightened. He's being very well-cared for in his foster home, I know, but the poor little guy wanted to adopt me. He broke my heart. Look, IGs are really delicate little creatures and I already have a bossy Basset and a very possessive male Boxer. I would seriously fear for the poor little guy. I only hope that he turns on the big-eye nuzzler act on for other women and he gets a wonderful home very soon, so he can be curled up on a couch with a little comforter thrown over him on chilly autumn nights. Wayward dogs and pain in the ass men, they all love me.

This is way too cool! Keep it coming! I had one very weird thing with a dead person happen to me when I was about 3 years old. I still remember it and my mom (who has Alzheimer's!) still hasn't forgotten it. So I love to hear about things like this happening to other people, it makes me feel not so whack.

The college football team that has the big-ass stadium in my town is currently in L.A., playing USC. I have some family members who flew out to L.A., and they're sitting in the stadium, watching it right now. I have the TV on in the other room and I'm only semi-paying attention. If I hear a lot of yelling, I stop and listen to what happened. I haven't been to a Nebraska home football game for, I don't know... over 15 years? I never sit and watch one on TV; it seems like a giant waste of time. When games are on TV, it's actually a very good time to go shopping, but there's a thunderstorm moving in and I really don't want to be in a store if a tornado warning happens. And we had one of those last night... it did rain like a bastard, but the ominous wall cloud skirted south of town. But, back to football. It's not like I never watched football -- I used to watch it all the time. It's difficult to avoid growing up in this state. My brother started playing high school football when I was about 2 years old. I remember being miserably cold and bored at my brother's games. And even though I don't watch it very much at all these days, I can still turn into one of the boys for a play or two and get into discussions about the design of the play, spot the holding or facemask violation or watch a receiver closely enough to see if he's in or out of the field of play when he comes down with the ball. But then I get bored and leave. Too many people in this state base their identity around the football team's success or failure. There are many things in the world that you can use to make yourself miserable, but I don't think the relative success or failure of the Huskers is a valid excuse for depression. Actually, what I did find depressing was when I flipped past the Nebraska coach's TV show the other night and he had on the most butt-ugly sports jacket I have seen on TV in years. From a distance, I thought it was some ultra-cheesy blue denim sports coat from the '70's. I kept watching the show just to see a close-up. It was a lighter (denim-colored) blue wool coat with a bit of a plaid design in it. Even worse! Shades of Rodney Dangerfield in "Caddyshack!" The previous coach turned the team to shit, but he was dapper enough. He was a spokesperson for a local men's clothier and they supplied him with clothing. I have no idea who is giving the current coach his clothing, but Pat Riley he is not. Hmmm... I think the thunderstorm has passed and I can go to the gym -- it's another good thing to do during games. The game is usually on the TVs, so I can look up and check the score to see what's happening. Actually, I always want Nebraska to win, or to at least play well, because then I don't have to deal with everyone else's bad mood and complaining on Monday morning. In closing, I really want to go spend money for sateen bedding. I have one set, and I want more. Why does it matter to me what the thread count is of pieces of fabric that I lay on when I'm mostly unconscious, or at least in an altered level of consciousness? I don't get it, but it so nice to wake up and fall asleep on sateen sheets, especially when I wear Mme. Moriarty, which smells so insanely good that it makes me want to have sex with myself. I can't think of anything else to say after that last comment, so I think I'll just stop. Go Big Thread Count! ETA: OK, I misspelled "thread" as "tread" because I was being inattentive, as all the weather bulletin beepers went off and I did want to jump up and run off to see what that is all about. A tornado was 50 miles or so north of us, around Omaha. It proceeded to rain like a bastard and even hailed a little bit, so I decided to not go to the gym. Once I ascertained that the tornado wasn't hitting hard in Omaha (it didn't do any damage), I somehow became entranced watching a cheesy infomercial for a 10-CD set of '70's music. The video clips of the '70's artists featured on the CDs were hypnotizingly odd. These CD sets have a lot of the pop music of the '70's, and the word "geek" kept going through my head. There was one guy, however, who was a one-hit wonder and he did look a lot like the guy who played Denny on "Gray's Anatomy" last season. I think the score of the game is USC 21, Nebraska 10. A respectable effort, considering we sucked two years ago and they were national champions. (See, I know more about football than I want to admit.)

I have to be careful calling them that, even in jest on the forum, because if it gets to be too much of a habit, I will slip and call them that to some who will take mortal offense. Then I will have outside my door. However, I do have a visual -- if they were called the Cornholers instead of the Cornhuskers, you know how USC has the dude in the Trojan outfit riding the horse around the stadium, and Colorado has the buffalo that takes a mad dash across the stadium before the game? The Cornholers would have to have a Boxer dog run across the playing field, being chased by a Basset Hound. A Boxer wouldn't be that slow, but getting a Basset Hound to run 100 yards, even in pursuit of a cornhole, might delay the start of the game by a good 20 minutes.

I'm glad snark is happy with the career change, and I look forward to tales of snarkyfamily adventures on the cruise! I hope everyone has a wonderful time!

In the imp, I smell Dragon's Blood and rose, but very little wine, at least not to the extent that I smell wine in scents like Wanda or Urd. Once it's on my skin, I do smell all three elements, a first the wine and blood, with rose in the background. When it dries down, the rose does its monster thing on my skin and takes over the scent -- damn my body chemistry and rose! I was hoping that the Dragon's Blood and wine might muscle their way in, but this scent stays predominately of rose with a bit of Dragon's Blood (and just a bit) in the background. Once th rose finally burns off, there's very little of the Dragon's Blood or wine remaining. I am simply not a big fan of rose scents, but I think anyone who enjoys rose and whose body chemistry could hold the balance of this scent, would enjoy it greatly.

Mme. Moriarty, in the bottle, has that same musky scent as Smut, only not as strong, with some very fruity-plum undertones. Once it hits my skin, the red musk amps up, again very much like Smut. Then the patchouli leaf takes over, and I do think that the patchouli leaf scent is different, because it smells the way a patchouli leaf smells when you pick it off of a live plant and break it open. It has that patchouli oil smell, but there's also a lot of green leafiness. I also pick up the vanilla bean, and it's not a sweet, creamy vanilla, it's the pungent bean. I'd agree with kakiphony's prior review, that this brings an almost sandalwood-like smell to the mix. What's fascinating about this scent is that it can smell very different if I catch a quick whiff of it, or if I hold my arm up to my nose and take a longer, more detailed inhalation. The quick whiff brings more musk and plum, and if I smell it at closer range, the patchouli leaf and vanilla bean take over my impressions. While this scent has been frequently compared to both Smut and Snake Oil (and Snake Charmer, but I've never smelled that one), it's very different to me, because it doesn't have the sweetness of either blend. Everything in Mme. Moriarty has a bit more of an edge. I never write reviews that are this long, but damn, this scent is fascinating, and to get to the point, I do like it! It has layers in it that intrigue me, and it's a multi-bottle keeper!

Her scent is bewitching, almost intoxicating: a sensual incense of crushed mums, red ginger, and pulsing musk … and the air is thick with leaden brown opium smoke that hangs thickly over a seductive mixture of red musk, body-warmed perfume, and hypnotic Eastern flowers. Normally I do really restrained reviews in a certain sequence, and I'll try to be that way again, but doods, I have no idea what is happening to this scent on my body. In the bottle, I adore Chrysanthemum Moon; it's dark and smoky, but there's an undertone of green. Just lovely. Then I put it on my body, and at first the scent is predominately floral, but it's very spicy, opium-laced way. Then it morphs...into something. Whatever my body is amping smells just like body odor. It's not a warm, round musky smell (as in Smut or Fenris Wolf) or a white musk smell. I'm thinking that the "body warmed perfume" in the scent description is something that turns pretty pungent on me. Heck if I know, but my farmhand body chemisty shoots this gorgeous scent all to hell. Someone is going to be getting my bottle so this lovely scent will be worn properly!

You know, by the time I got to the hand-crank flashlight, I was really laughing. It's sort of a bath-and-body care package for those days when the power grid goes down and you want to look clean, buffed and pretty even though the lights are out. And your food will not be bland. And you can avert boredom by reading the Evanovich book by flashlight. I like to give theme packages to people, but normally the theme is somewhat discernable. However, in the instance of your mother's packages, perhaps one has to go a little deeper and employ formulations used by chaos theory researchers in order to uncover the hidden logic? I sent the link about the crazed hoarding mother to a coworker who is more than a bit of a packrat in his office and tends to get a bit obsessive about eBay, but usually only in the pursuit of vintage Nebraska Territory maps. He felt so normal after looking at it that I think he's back on eBay, trying to find more maps.

For anyone who would like to do a little retail therapy, or simply likes to do some online window shopping, I present a few sites for your perusal. Most of the sites are not the favorites of the retail therapy section of the forum, although there's one or two that may have been prominently mentioned. Good incense is in the nose of the beholder, and my nose has different moods. But for both Fred Soll incense (very resiny, strong, smoky, long-lasting) and Nipon Kodo incense (classic Japanese) and everything in between, and all in one order, I go to: http://www.bambuddhas.com In between Fred Soll and Nipon Kodo is Terre d'Oc incense, which difficult to find and not cheap, but very much worth the money. It can be found at: http://www.sensia.com There are endless goodies at both Bambuddhas and Sensia that will tempt you mightily, be warned... Mentioned frequently in the powdered mineral makeup thread of the Bathing Beauty section of the forum is Alima powdered mineral makeup. It is the greatest stuff, beautiful colors, subtle coverage, and you can order samples. Support a small business that includes cool little philosophical sayings on the back of cards that you receive with your order: http://www.alimacosmetics.com For anyone who wants to get that great western U.S. smell into their home, via wreaths or incense or tea or soap or jellies, go to: http://www.juniperridge.com I smell their products and this flatland girl is back in the western mountains. She's a forum member and we did a swap, me sending her Khajurajo and she sending a necklace from her web site. The photos do not do the jewelry justice; it is beautiful and delicate and drapes beautifully: http://www.todiefordesigns.com And her clothing is gorgeous. Beautiful jewlery, a lot of animal and celtic designs. Just fabulous. I have the Irish Wolfhound pendant: http://www.black-horse-design.com Just fun! The name should tell you so! http://www.stuff-o-rama.com Really great designs for the goddess in you -- surely this site has at least one that is you: http://www.thaliatook.com I'd like the Jeanne d'Arc t-shirt, because it's a name thing, the Green Tara design is gorgeous, I really like Nyx, and the Rhiannon design is beautiful, but unfortunately, if I wore it, I would keep thinking of a goat because it reminds me of Stevie Nicks singing that Fleetwood Mac song. ETA: My coffee guy! Even though he closed the coffee shop that was my refuge from the perv postman and the other oddities of downtown coffee houses, he still runs a custom coffee roasting business. The best coffee I've ever had, hands down -- he buys only the best beans and is a stickler for roasting. No burned beans from this guy! http://www.coffeecultureonline.com Thornefolk Solutions -- A neat little female-owned business, bath goodies. Check out the fizzing skulls for Halloween/Day of the Dead favors, their bath salts are great and they're having a sale on Pixie Sticks (their samplers of bath salts) right now. It's a great deal! http://www.thornefolk.net

If you order from Terrance, tell him you know me. He delivers freshly-roasted beans to me at my office every other week -- the benefit of being a regular at his old coffee house! And if you order from him, you can then be regaled with his Monday morning reminders, which have a bit of a cult following. People who don't drink coffee ask me to forward his emails to them, simply for the entertainment factor! And seriously, his coffee is the very best!