valentina

Lyonesse is the other new Wanderlust that I ordered almost immediately upon reading the description. And for good reason! In the bottle, Lyonesse is very mellow, very reserved and understated. And upon application, it remains reserved, but on my body, the lily and sea moss scents seem to come to the front at first -- it's a quiet floral with a lot of vanilla and amber underneath them. After a half hour or so, the blend really balances out for me. It's so complex that I can't pull any one scent -- and still, it is very refined and dignified. This is a scent that I will wear on those days when I want my fragrance to be a bit more restrained and not act like a wrecking ball to the nose or to the libido. However, this is a scent that could sneak up on a person, because it's not stodgy or traditional. It's pretty but not girly-girly, nor is it matronly; it's not floral and it's not foody and it's not resiny. I'm saying what everyone else is saying -- it's sort of an ineffable scent that has a very low-key appeal that really grows on you after a while. I love its complexity and its subtlety, and it's a keeper!

Oh me oh my, I LOVE this scent! In the imp, it's sweet and very foody. I feared it might turn into a diabetic coma-inducing sweetness on my skin, akin to what happend between me and Gluttony. But no, from initial drydown to going on 3 hours later, it's just beautiful, sweet-but-spicy, damn near edible. There's an edge to this and it must be coming from the spice in the sweet cake and a bit of wine. Take my sometimes odd body chemistry into consideration before you read this next comment, but on me, Cockaigne is very similar to Monster Bait: Underpants. I even put a bit of Underpants on the opposite arm and did a comparison. Don't ask me why, but they are a lot alike on me -- Underpants has more of a bite from the saffron and sandalwood, but there's a distinctly similar sweet-but-spicy quality to Cockaigne. I think it's mellower and less edgy, but for me, they are so very much alike. And I adore Underpants, so I adore Cockaigne. ETA: Peter Brueghel the Elder, "The Land of Cockaigne:"

Funny you should mention that -- she played the organ for Samantha's sister's wedding in Sixteen Candles! We came full circle! Dawndie! You get to yell "Scoreboard!"

Wow, "Poltergeist." I always remember that weird little lady who was almost a midget and her weird voice. Didn't she play the organ in a church? She freaked me out!

Actually, I think I scared the hell out of him! I was so sweet and shy in high school.

Retail therapy, moi? Well, I must stay true to my word, and when I say in my sales thread that I'll reinvest the proceeds from my sales in the Lab (and then some), I must follow through. I placed a tidy little order for a bottle of each of the following: The Brides of Dracula, Theodosius, the Legerdemain and Snake Oil. The Brides of Dracula was the only scent of the recent LEs that really tripped my trigger. I hadn't ordered the Legerdemain with my Carnaval order because the jasmine made me jittery. Then I tried Siren, fell in love with it and realized that jasmine need not be a reason to rule out a scent. So the Legerdemain it is. And of course I need a bottle of Snake Oil to sit in reserve and age like a fine wine while I use my current bottle. And in the wine mode, I just finished regaling a friend about a Austrian (and I mean Austrian, not Australian) white wine, brand name Lois. Specifically,, it's Fred Lois Gruner Veltliner. It's very nice white wine, not too sweet -- dry, but not dry in an icky way. It's delicious. Really, really nice. As in, grab a bottle of it and sit in the sun and eat cheese and crackers over the long weekend. Preferably with someone you like, but if keeping yourself company is the best option, don't forget to treat yourself. Put on your favorite BPAL scent and let it waft around you. What is it that the Lab's postcards say? Sensualist stimulation? By all means, go for it.

Woot! My scent twin ordered it, so now I know it will work!

I did think of your blog entries when I heard that Ann Coulter pronounced that "things are going swimmingly in Afganistan." I'm glad you weren't hurt, but having the hell scared out of you isn't exactly easy to take either. Do take care of yourselves!

Thank you all for your encouragement! A little empathy goes a long way in helping me maintain my sanity. I just got back from a long lunch with another story, and now I am just laughing at how my day is going, because it's like something from a Richard Linklater movie (especially "Slacker" or "Waking Life.") I went back to the coffee house and the owner is no longer teary-eyed and is feeling rather relieved. I found out (from the girls in the import store down the way) that the barista who was terminated had not been popular with other baristas. I knew she was a little domineering, but whew, I didn't know how bad. In this person's defense, she has a real nutcase for a dad and her stepmom (now divorced from the dad) is damn near certifiable. That she has a few, uh, adjustment problems is not shocking. On the way back to work, I stopped at the natural food co-op to get a little something to eat, and the very nice, chatty guy who was in line behind me asked if I was someone who had gone to his high school. Since I'm from a small town and he named the town, I turned and looked at him in amazement. He knew my name, and I said: "And you're...?" He was a senior when I was a freshman. He was really really cute. It was kind of like Molly Ringwald's character in "Sixteen Candles" running into Jake, the dreamy senior class guy, after a really long time. He didn't look so bad for me to declare that The Bloom Is Off The Rose, but the rose was looking a bit sun-beaten and tattered, and not in a Clint Eastwood cowboy sort of way. He wanted to sit and visit for a bit, and long story short, he used to work for a power company in California, got in an industrial accident, and had his right leg amputated below the knee. His attitude is really great -- he went back to school to become a drug-alcohol counselor, and that's what he's doing right now. And it wasn't like he was needy, he was just catching up with me. But I'm sure we talked more today than we ever did in high school! OK, so I will stop bitching (even internally to myself) about MY life. It is difficult for me not to believe that some cosmic force is trying to bitchslap me into perkiness. In addition to talking to someone who got fired and someone who has had a stroke, now I find that the dreamy senior class guy of my freshman year has a prosthetic lower leg. How weird is that?

Is September already over? Is summer almost over? Waaaah! I don't know why I'm always so romantic about summer, but I am. I think I took summer romance songs entirely too seriously when I was in high school. And I love autumn, so why am I sad to see summer go? I don't get it. However, it's a good excuse for that case of wistfulness and poignancy that I like to carry around with me, although if you were around me at all, you'd probably never guess that those tendencies were part of my baggage. Ah, baggage...we all have it, and it's recently started to amaze me how people who a lot younger than I am already have a lot of really serious baggage. Nothing against them, not at all... I think it's more a reflection of my relatively sheltered upbringing and generally cautious nature in my teens and 20's. Actually, I was also a bit of a pinhead, at least emotionally and interpersonally. I couldn't even begin to get myself into anything especially complicated, but I did just stupid rather well. Sometimes I think my wistful, poignant moods are a result of my former, younger self doing battle with the current, older self. I can be very realistic and pragmatic, but I can still be hopelessly romantic and a real dreamer. But if I let myself think back to early June, the beginning of summer and the smell of Dorian, I realize that there were some achingly gorgeous moments this summer. Sometimes it's hard not to look back and try to wish yourself back into certain moments. But every time in my life that I've wanted to do that, I have later realized, there was always something else better waiting around the corner. That heartbreakingly perfect moment was just a warm-up, and it's always a lesson to get my head out of the clouds and take a look-see at what's going on around me. So I'll pull my head out of June, put my chin up and head towards September!

ARGH BLARGH! Richard Marx! I'd seriously forgotten about him. Whatta mullet. Truly, there are more really crappy romantic songs than not. Do a search on Amazon for the "best romantic songs" compliation CDs and look at the selections. I would shriek all the way through most of them like I'd been exposed to a lineup of ugly feet with French pedicures. Or, I'd get a honking headache like I'd been exposed to a jugful of gardenia and civet. If I was in a semi-romantic funk and had to listen to the best love ballads of the 70' and '80's, it would be like that Peanuts cartoon when Linus was crying. Lucy comes around and whaps him with a club and announces that there's nothing like some good pain to take your mind off of what's bothering you. However, when I get in a mood like last night, listening to Billie or Ella can render me weepy. Weirdly, I started listening to Tierney Sutton (another great modern jazz singer) do her rendition of Frank Sinatra songs, and something about the Frank attitude (even as interpreted by a woman with a very pretty voice) makes me want to buck up and take it like a man.

Mmmmm... Gary Oldman could bite my neck any time... I am lusting for (and will probably order) The Brides of Dracula. It completely trips my trigger. I'm ordering it soon so if I love it, I'll have time to order more! Other than that, I might want to try the Pumpkin Queen -- but for whatever reason, I'm much more about the Lupercalia/Valentine's scents. (That might make sense for someone who chose "valentina" as her forum name.) I look at all the Halloweenie scents and think they look like so much damn fun, but I do know my body chem. I think when it's a LE with your name on it, go for it!!!

Snarky got the job! Snarky got the job! Yipee! Congratulations. Looking forward to going to work is a wonderful form of compensation, in itself.

Ella Beanie anxiously awaits making an order from the Samhain Halloweenie 2006 update.

First of all, some TMI about my dogs. If you're a smidge fussy or easily grossed out, skip to the next paragraph. If you like sophomoric dog-related humor, read on. Ella Bean, my Basset, is a little mommy hound. She'd probably had a litter or two of puppies before she ended up at a shelter and came to live at my house. She's spayed now, but still has very mothering instincts, so she acts them out on Mugzy, the Boxer. She likes to lick his eyes and face and then licks his butt. It's insane, and of course, I just watch it. Boxers are somewhat well-known for their flatulent tendencies, and just a moment ago, Ella was tending to Mugzy's cornhole when he audibly pooted one. She yelped and jumped back. Mugzy can remind me of Cartman on "South Park" in that episode where he was afflicted with flaming farts. Was that when the aliens had the probe up his butt? I haven't watched South Park in a long time, but I fondly remember the show where the boys went over to Afganistan, and the U.S. military thought that a goat was really Stevie Nicks. They believed that she'd come over to do a USO show. They were chasing after the goat yelling: "Oh, Miss Nicks! Oh Miss Nicks!" I have insisted for years that cocaine turned Stevie into a goat. There is yell-singing (Michael Bolton) and mumble singing (Tom Waits or Rickie Lee Jones, and I love them, BTW) and then there is bleating, and that is Stevie Nicks. For all you Stevie fans, sorry, she once had a beautiful, clear, bell-like voice, but that was a long-ass time ago. I'm shocked that sheep herding dogs don't come rushing after her when she starts singing. I better stop before the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Stevie Nicks comes after me. I will update anyone who might still be reading this far, that my coworker is still addled by the smell of Snake Oil. He is convinced there are pure pheromones in it. I also had a woman nearly crawl out of a ticket-taker window at a parking garage, because when I rolled down my car window to pay for parking, she got a whiff of the Snake Oil. She was bug-eyed and yelling "WHAT IS THAT? I LOVE IT!" Good grief. Well, at least they aren't crying, the way that I get all misty-eyed when I sniff Dorian. Beth didn't call her business Black Phoenix Alchemy Laboratory for just any old reason. She brews up some powerful stuff.

OK, I told the guys in my office about it, and one of them has a Cornhole set, only he's never called it Cornhole before. (How could someone in Nebraska play this game and NOT know it as Cornhole??) This guy had shoulder surgery this summer and learned to throw with his left arm, and he declared that he is "an ambidexterous Cornholer." Another guy was so charmed with the notion that he began doing some online research and found a web site with t-shirts: http://www.zazzle.com/product/235863864508254611 The guy with the Cornhole set wants to bring it into work and play it in the courtyard. So there will be Cornholers in the Prairie Phallus.

minilux, you are a genius! I won't tell Mugzy, he would be most chagrined!

Mugzy is too busy trying to ride around on a Hog to bother with a cat costume!

In the imp, and upon initial drydown, Namaste smells like sandalwood with a little bitterness, which is no doubt the lemongrass. I really don't pick up a lot of rose or patchouli, which is shocking, considering those notes can be very dominating for me. The lemongrass scent isn't bad, and in some ways is a very cleansing sort of smell. After the lemongrass burns off a bit and is less intense, Namaste starts to smell like jasmine incense -- very pretty! All the elements blend together beautifully to smell a great deal like a light, floral incense that might be burned in a yoga studio or a meditation center. It's lovely, subtle and calming.

I sniffed Vice in the imp having utterly no idea what was in it. My initial reaction was: chocolate, but not an overly sweet milk chocolate, nor an extremely dark, potent chocolate. It was a lighter chocolate with a lot of depth. Once I applied it, I got the chocolate scent and also a whiff of a light floral-like smell upon drydown, which was probably the orange blossom and cherry merging with each other. It smells like a rich, creamy, sweet chocolate truffle with a cherry center. After about 2 hours, my skin chemistry does what it always like to do, which is to eat up the chocolate! Why should my skin be any different than the rest of me? After that, I'm left with cherry and a slight orange blossom floral scent; not a trace of the chocolate was left on my skin. This scent would be gorgeous for anyone who loves foody, chocolately scents and whose body chemistry will hold on to the wonderful chocolate that is in this blend.

In the imp, EOM is musk with a lot of spicy tropical scents; it's really not the incredibly animalistic musk that I expected, it smells clean and tropical. On the body, the musk is relatively light, with citrus and spicy tropical plant notes predominating on the initial dry down. After a half hour or so, the musk is completely taken over by some very spicy, tropical notes and a touch of banana. To me, EOM smells like a very manly pirate who has been hiding out on a tropical island! Rather than the "ooo-ooo-ooo" orangutan ape sound, EOM makes me want to walk around with a glass of rum, mumbling "arrggghh!" a passersby!

Ah... I took Russian in college and I remember reading this and translating it. It's one of those poems that is plaintive and beautiful in any language. When I saw it in your entry, I was transported back to the library where I was sitting when I first read it, because it was truly one of those "oh wow..." moments.

Dawndie, I've never heard of that game, but if my office ever has another outdoor picnic, I think a rousing game of Cornhole would be an ideal ice-breaker to get the more reserved contingent of the office into the proper frame of mind! The idea of that game has me

The professional reseller issue has been bothering me lately, because I've ordered more LEs that don't work on me than those that do work. What I try to do is to put up my once or twice-tested bottles for sale at the price I paid. But I'm starting to worry that someone who is a profit-mongering reseller will show up to buy my bottle and effectively scalp it on eBay or via pricey decants. Normally I can tell who is a real BPAL lover by their profile or the number of posts that they've made, but it's not always the case. I think that's why the swap/sales feedback section of the forum is going to be really important -- there has to be some way to help weed out the "real" BPAL lovers from the profit hounds. In the meantime, I'm being a bit more discerning about my LE purchases, because I know that more often than not, complex scents can be a little problematic for me. However, I love the GC scents so much that it's not like BPAL will lose business on me, to say the least!