valentina

I decided to try Black Annis because I really do like the smell of anise, and since minilux (a civet lover) and I share some scent preferences, I decided that maybe, in fact, civet might not bother me. I've learned to really enjoy dark musk, so why not some civet, huh? Well... I dunno. I sniffed the Black Annis in the imp and shut it promptly. Those animal smells just remind me too much of being a kid, walking around in the wooded areas by a stream, and smelling wild animal pee. But I did get the anise scent, and that was nice. It was just the civet. Then I opened it again later, only this time I got some on my fingers. Oh no! The civet went into full bloom very rapidly. Arrrgggh. I have an anise hyssop plant in my garden, and I love the way it smells. What I was smelling on my fingers was like I'd picked some anise hyssop that my cat had peed on, then rolled around on top of it and crushed it into the mulch. Not pretty, not one little bit. But not to be totally negative... that's on my body chemistry. My DH always wants to try animalistic smells that I hate, so he put some on right away. On him, the civet blooms briefly, but then the beast is tamed and the anise smell remains, with a dark undertow of civet. It's really very nice on him. He kind of likes it and I don't even mind it. So truly, it's all in the body chemistry!

A stirring yet gentle perfume. The scent of love and devotion mingled with an undercurrent of heart-rending sorrow. A bouquet of white roses, labdanum, and wild orchid. Magdalene, in the imp, is a very strong rose, but with a darker, spicier smell underneath. When I initially applied it, I got a strong hit of rose and wondered how long I'd be able to wear it, since rose is just a monster, and a none-too-kind monster, in combination with my body chemistry. However, I was happy to discover that the rose in this blend (white roses, I believe) is a drier, cooler rose that doesn't amp up as intensely. In addition, the labdanum gives the blend a nice dark, spicy background. I can't really pick up a lot of the orchid aroma in this blend, for I believe the rose has shoved it out of the way. Over time, scent doesn't morph a bit and it has great lasting power. While I'm still not a great fan of rose and floral scents, I do have a large stash of dried rose petals that I've been wanting to turn into potporri. I'm keeping this imp to use for that purpose, because to me, it's a beautiful, spicy, Victorian rose smell that would be absolutely perfect. I think for anyone who loves to wear rose fragrances but doesn't want it to be terribly sweet, this would be an ideal scent.

Because male Airedales tend to be big, happy-go-lucky goofballs, he was probably a very amused fellow for a while, but he was also probably glad to get away from his "On The Road" lifestyle and get back to the comforts of home! Female Airedales can be that way for a while, until they are tired of whatever is going on, and then they sit down and give you the look. If I ever get another female Airedale, I'm naming her Tracy Lord, after Katharine Hepburn's character in "The Philadelphia Story." (NOT Tracy Lords, the porn diva!)

Hmmm.. I love it when people threaten harm to others, but then when they can't get away with it, suddenly say that NOW they believe in karma. Ha! Apparently she thought she'd be your personal karma emmissary, as if she was somehow granted a license to carry out what she felt should be your karma. Sounds like you had a borderline stalker on your hands. If anything, I see karma as the law of cause and effect. It's not our job to do anything but try to manage our own lives with as much grace as possible and learn from past mistakes.

Golden Priapus, in the bottle, is like smelling honeyed vanilla while standing outdoors in a green forest. On my skin, it starts out as a vanilla/amber with really, really yummy green pungent kick. It's just gorgeous for about a half-hour, and then... oh no! Play-Dough! For the life of me, I can't understand this, but something in Golden P turns on me the same way that Snake Oil turned on me. I thought it might have had something to do with the small amount that I tested, so I tried a larger swipe to see if it would change things. Sadly, no... while it's beautiful for a short while, I start to smell like a Play-Dough factory. However, on my DH, Golden Priapus remains a very nice fragrance, with a rather masculine base of an evergreen forest and a wonderful vanilla-amber frosting. It's really yummy, but not at all overwhelming. He bought a bottle of it! I think this scent, for men, is the equivalent of O on women -- it's a "classic" and is almost certain to please.

I think I've mentioned before that I have a lot of Wonder Woman stuff sitting around my office, in addition to Marx Brothers memorabilia and various quirky artsy things and photos of my dogs. I ascribe to the Wonder Woman archetype a little too much, I suppose, or I want everyone to believe I'm like that. I have a girlfriend who refers to me as the Wonder Diva. But like Wonder Woman, I sometimes get a little tired of everyone thinking I'm impervious to their bad behavior, or that I don't have feelings. Letting down my guard is not something that I do readily or willingly. As a result, people can hurt my feelings a lot, but they think I'm hyper-rational and bulletproof. Which is why the Wonder Diva loves her dogs (and her Puddin' Tom and her birdies.) The doggies are probably a pair of overbonded creatures, but they don't buy into the Wonder Diva facade and they don't care that I'm not bulletproof. It's more important to them that I am soft and vulnerable, because they were both abused and neglected dogs when I got them. They know I'll take care of them and I'll never hurt them. That sort of trust means everything to me. And lots of people find openness and softness really alarming, while animals breathe a sigh of relief and relax. My yoga teacher's other passion is dog agility training, and she and I often talk about how humans become very habituated to keeping their nervous systems in a constant state of agitation. Oddly, many people find quiet and softness more disconcerting that going 500 MPH all day long. I just don't understand that. You see, Wonder Diva is really a yogini who doesn't let most people know that side of her . So if you have a dog or a kitty, or any other sort of pet that you can sit and hold, go find the quiet that they love. It's great for both of you.

In the imp, the color of Lust is rather like red-hot passion, and it's a pungent, earthy-musky smell. When I first put it on, it reminded me of the love child of Urd and Smut. It's patchouli and musk, but there's an almost red wine smell in there. After a few minutes, it becomes very spicy-peppery, and I'm assuming that is the musk and myrrh really kicking in. I think the ylang ylang shows up the longer I wear Lust, because it assumes a soft, undertone. It reminds me a bit of Dragon's Blood, but without the sweetness. The patchouli really fades to the background, and over time, this scent retains its hot peppery, spicy kick with a soft floral underbelly.

My brother is about 12 years older than I am, and thus, I'm right in between his age and his oldest daughter's age. So once when I was about 19 and Lori was about 7, Lori decided she wanted to send my dad a letter, and she wanted to dictate it to me. It was really quite hilarious and I think my dad saved it for a long time. It started out: "Hi Grandpa. How are you? I am fine. The house hasn't burned down yet." And therefore, the title of today's entry. For whatever reason, the firework lunacy around my town seemed to occur on the evening of July 3, rather than July 4. The next door neighbors have been out of town for over a week, leaving their 17-year-old daughter to care for the household. She was having an allegedly wholesome teen gathering at the house, complete with fireworks. Then, about 2 a.m., I was awakened from my slumbers because someone was frantically ringing the doorbell over and over. I got to the door and yelled "WHO IS IT?" and the response was: "YOUR FENCE IS ON FIRE!" Great. I ran out the back door, turned on the hose and for whatever reason, ran to the right part of the yard. My DH was left standing confused and didn't even know where I went. But the time I got around the corner, the fire was almost out, for the neighbor's daughter had also turned out their hose and was spraying down the fence. The explanation: although there were about 4 carloads of kids hanging around, they just all happened to be driving past, and hadn't been spending time there. They claim they stopped and rang the doorbell, couldn't wake us up, and went to her house and got her to come out and put out the fire. Yeah, right. I'm a light sleeper and one doorbell ding is all it takes to rouse me from horizontal slumber to a sitting-straight- up, wide awake state. And the fire was really caused by a plastic gas can that was set on fire. The fence was scorched due to its proximity to the gas can. The kdis, of course, had no idea who had started it, or where the gas can came from, but it was a random act of arson. Once the kids heard my DH has finally come to his senses and called the fire department, everyone who just happened to be driving by got in their cars and promptly left. This included the friend who was supposed to be staying with the neighbor's daughter. The neighbor girl's eyes popped out of her head when she heard the firemen were arriving, and that they would probably call the police. She yelped: "But the fire is OUT!" Apparently the two guys who knocked on our door felt it was a good idea to let us know the fence was on fire, while the others didn't want us to figure it out. Our neighbor's daughter feigned great innocence to the fireman and the cops and claimed she'd been indoors watching movies when the act of arson occurred. The cops took forever to arrive, so we were up until almost 5 in the morning. The police just rolled their eyes at her story. By light of day, you could see where the gas can was on fire in their driveway, and someone kicked it (probably to get it away from her car, not a bad idea), it rolled down an incline toward our fence, and then it scorched the fence. This is the daughter of people who have a patio chimnea in the the back and like to burn tree branches in it, but if the branches are too green to burn well, they dump charcoal lighter on it and get flames jumping 3 or 4 feet out of the chimnea. I am sure they will also take no responsibility for anything, because she's obviously copping to nothing. The firemen did take pains to point out to her how the fire could have really damaged her house a lot, because if it had continued, it would have gone up into a tree and hopped over to the roof her her house first. And crap, just last week I had commented that she's very good at playing the wholesome cheerleader, fine Christian girl routine, but she's obviously a bit more of a handful than her older sister. But the parents don't seem to get it, because they're too busy acting like they're socially superior to their neighbors, while they guzzle beer and burn scrap lumber in their chimnea. So why is it that when people act either superior or have to wear their wholesomeness on their sleeves, it's usually to cover up something else?

Tee hee! I love the way the little emoticon fit so beautifully at the end of your entry! And I wish I could just walk over to your house and give you a bottle of sangria. The scorched fence mayhem and resulting lack of sleep severely blunted planned sangria intake. My frig is awash in bottles of the brew!

That really cracks me up! I can just see it! For what she's not putting in the landfill, she's adding to the ambient particulate matter in the air!

Medea, in the imp, smells very floral and sweet. On the skin, it went into a muddle that's a floral/fruity incense amalgam. My body chemistry sometimes tends to muddy certain complex blends, and this no exception. If I had to pick out the primary notes, I'd guess it was the combination of the orchid and currant, with a background of myrrh. It's not a bad combination on my skin, although it's not as crisp and well-defined as I prefer. Medea also fades out rather quickly on my skin, so ultimately, it's just not a scent that I can wear with great success. For those of you who love florals and can wear complex blends, do give this a try.

Thanks! I was pretty dramatic as a firefighter, but then I always did know how to pull a hose. (OMG, did I just say that??? )

But I just hope they didn't do french-tip pedicures!

In the imp, Arachne smelled very similar to Yggdrasil -- a woodsy, herbal scent, but definitely a northern hardwood forest. Once it was on my skin, I got the whiff of that hardwood forest again, along with herbs. I kept thinking of Yggdrasil, so I put a swipe of it on my other arm so I could compare the two. Upon drydown, Arachne isn't as bright, verdant and herbal/floral as Yggdrasil. What I am reminded of is a field on the edge of a hardwood forest in the fall, with dried grass, drying wood from fallen trees, crisp fallen leaves, and crushed herbs and flowers that have the distinctively dried-but-still-fragrant quality. If Yggdrasil is that forest in the full bloom of summer, Arachne is the same forest and an adjoining field during a warm day in October. I think if you're a person who loves the smell of the outdoors in autumn, Arachne would be a perfect scent. I take a whiff of it and I see a sunny October afternoon!

"Puff and Stuff!" Hee hee! I love head shops too. The only BPAL I used to wear when I got started a year ago was Urd, and it's the quintessential head shop smell, IMHO. A lot of the head shops in my town have been harassed out of business (bummer), or they've morphed into head shop gifts/hippie clothing/incense, ect. without the smoking accessories. (At least on display, in the front...heh, heh..) The most retro/authentic one in my town called "Euphoria." The same people have owned it for over 25 years, and even though they've remodeled it and expanded it, it's still crammed as hell with stuff. I love to go there and just breeze around. The question is, did you inhale? I'm allergic to pot, just being around the smoke makes my eyes swell up. Needless to say, I never hung out with stoners, I just stayed with garden-variety drunks. Edited because in the last sentence, I typed "stones," not "stoners." No, I didn't hang out with the Stones, either. And besides, I would have hung with Aerosmith, had I made my career as a groupie.

If you do anything this 4th of July season, make sangria! I made some first thing this morning and put it in the refrigerator, and by this evening, I had a lovely, lovely brew. I was deeply proud of my efforts. I'm steeping some sangria blanco as I write this, and time will tell if it's as good as the red. If you make red sangria, try to get a nice, fruity Spanish wine. It makes all the difference. Here's the recipe that I used -- it's a modification of "Sunset Sangria" by Rachael Ray, and you can find it on the Foodnetwork web site. 3 tbs. sugar 6 tbs. dark spiced rum with citrus flavor 1 orange, sliced 1 lemon, sliced 2 ripe peaches, peeled and cut into wedges 3 ripe plums, cut into wedges 2 cinnamon sticks 1 bottle Rioja or a good fruity Spanish red wine Club soda, for topping off glasses of sangria Combine everything but club soda in a large pitcher. Chill several hours. I ran the wine liquid through a strainer to catch the excess fruit pulp prior to serving. Serve over ice, topped off with club soda for some fizz. This is not the equivalent of bottled Cruz Garcia Real Sangria -- Cruz Garcia needs vodka or rum added to it in order to make it seem like an alcoholic beverage. This is just a smidge stronger. Thus, adding a bit of club soda will not turn your sangria into the alcoholic equivalent of Welch's grape juice. I am very tempted to make some Sangrita Margaritas, which entails combining a margarita with sangria. Tasty, tasty. Sangria blanco review to follow tomorrow night.

I'm not much for florals, but I've been surprised by the floral blends that I've been able to enjoy since I've started on the BPAL path, so I bravely went forward with Eternal. In the imp, I smell gardenia. On my skin, I smell even more gardenia. I always complain that rose is a gorilla on my body chemistry, but gardenia is King Kong. It takes over. It's not really that bad, but it's just not my style -- hothouse flowers just heat up a bit too much on me, and after a while, turn powdery, which is exactly what Eternal did on me. For lovers of sweet, floral, tropical, heady fragrances, Eternal is for you.

Vixen! I finally received an imp of Vixen as a frimp from a generous forum member. Because I love Ravenous, and I love ginger, I was very, very eager to try this one. In the imp, it's a dark patchouli with a citrusy, sharp undertone. On my skin, it starts out in a very similar manner to Ravenous -- patchouli with a honeyed orange smell. Then, after a few minutes, the sharpness of ginger begins to emerge. And for whatever reason, this combination smells very animalistic and feral for a while -- almost musky. (This doesn't bother me.) But after that calms down, I'm left with a very rich, deep patchouli with gingered honey undertone. It's a dark, sexy, rather smouldering scent that I find very warming and intense.

I have not been the chattiest blogger in the world, lately. Bad blogger, bad, bad, bad blogger! Try to type "bad blogger" a number of times that not turn "bad" into "blad." I did it twice. ("Blad Blogger" sounds like the emo nephew of Dracula.) It's been over 100 degrees here the last two days. Blame any weirdness below on the heat. Well, I've been quiet because I've been kind of angsty lately and I really don't like to subject people to my angst. I'm semi-finished with my angst, and I've basically decided, what's better -- to be someone who has a few things that I'd like to have, but don't, but in order to get them you have to be positively glacial, or to be sort of person who animals, little kids and old people tend to like. I guess it's best to just accept my gifts in the form of a trusting animal, smiles from little kids and conversations with old folks. And everyone else in between. I not a cold bitch, so I don't get the cold bitch acoutroments. End of story. I'm going to try to brew up a good batch or two or three of sangria tomorrow. I associate sangria with the 4th of July. Now, WTF? A Spanish wine for an American holiday? It's just a summertime thing. And what is it when you go to the pool and you see the man with his bald head, bobbing just above the water, and then he emerges from the pool, it is revealed that his body is one of the hairiest things you've seen? As in, more hair on the guy's back than on most men's chests, not to mention all the hair on the legs and the chest and arms? I know it's testosterone doing its thing, but it always amazes me. Not that I have a thing against a nice hairy chest or hairy arms or legs, for I like secondary sexual characteristics, but when the back is almost solid hair, I do draw the line. I'd be getting out the waxing strips and using them on the fellow. But it would be like trying to wax a Grizzly! It would be like pulling carpet! Jeez, and guys like that would clog up your drains all the time, and no one would be able to figure it out, because they have a cue-ball head. Where is that hair coming from? You can see what I was looking at and pondering at the pool today!

Another sangria recipe! I think trying every version of sangria is the booze version of trying every BPAL scent! And besides, all those fruits give us our daily dose of vitamin C and antioxidants, and we really must drink healthfully, you know!

I think I was addled and being very cryptic! There's a very specific circumstance in my life right now that I know wouldn't work for me because I'm not an ice princess. I was feeling rather negative about it, but I don't any more. I wouldn't have any fun not being myself, and we do know that FUN RULES! Being a Banana Republican is just not my style, and besides, I'd have to wear french manicure toenails!

OK, this is a hang-up of mine, a silly pet peeve, and if any of you do this and your man-things or woman-things think it's hot and sexy, good for you and good for them. It's just something I'm not going to do, ever. I have a hang-up about women who grow their toenails long and paint them in a French manicure. As in long, I mean that the nails may reach or surpass the toe-tip, depending upon the shape of their nails and their toes. It makes their feet look like little paws. And then the French manicure -- I think that looks just plain goofy. French manicures on the fingers are rather pretty and I can appreciate it. Especially because my fingernails never get long enough to do that. But on the feet, I don't think so. I think my hang-up stems from the fact that prior to this recent trend, the only people with long toenails tended towards being unkempt. There were usually other hideously disgusting things going on with their toenails or feet that I won't even bother to mention. I have a foot fetish, I will admit, and I like to see nice feet. But when I see toenails that look like they could leave a swipe across your skin like a cat's claw, I just cringe. Toes should be able to move all around the body without accidentally drawing blood, you know.

A "Banana Republican!"

A year ago, my Airedale Terrier named Karma turned 9 years old, and that very same the day, the vet came to the house to euthanize Karma. She had a very aggressive bone cancer in her spine and by the time it was diagnosed, there was no treatment recourse. She was such a wonderful dog, very much a proud, haughty terrier who could also be silly and goofy. But largely, she was Princess Karma, and about 3 years ago, I found a tiara during Halloween costume season and purchased it for Karma's use. While she had a "don't hate me because I'm beautiful" attitude, she was also a bit of a ruffian and preferred to have her hair long and shaggy. She wasn't one of those preening terriers who came home from grooming with an attitude. Well, she did have an attitude after grooming, but it out of annoyance and embarrassment -- she far preferred her "au natural" state. Thus, her official princess portrait properly shows her in a bit of a wooly-bully dishevel. I do so miss playing with those curls. Here she is in all her glory...

Since the Norns spent their time around the foot of Yggdrasil and Urd is one of my favorite BPAL scents, I was very excited to try this blend! In the imp, Yggdrasil has a woodsy, green smell, but more in the sense of an ancient northern hardwood forest with herbs and flowers growing on the forest floor. Once on my skin, the green woodsy quality really amps up for the first hour or so. It's not bad, but it's rather intense and has a pungent herbal/floral quality. It reminds me of a forest in the spring after a hard rain. But after the first hour, the deep green, woodsy intensity burns off and I'm left with a soft, flowering herb smell. It's really quite subtle and lovely and makes me feel very druidic, as a scent called Yggdrasil should. On me, it's a very clean, yet feminine scent.