valentina

In my worldview, Zep and Aerosmith are weighty matters and I would never tease! ETA: The above photo -- Robert Plant IS Golden Priapus!

I can certainly appreciate what you're saying about the forum. There's certain threads that I visit, and often if I see a certain person has posted on a thread, I'll pop in to see what they're saying, because normally I enjoy their posts. And regarding the money thing -- I've kind of noticed a yin and a yang. People either complain about being broke and feeling guilty for spending money, or they brag that they can spend hundreds of dollars per month on BPAL. One thing I've noticed is that there are people who are really good at crafting a forum persona and gadding about a lot of threads. I became friends with a woman from a different forum who has that forum persona chit-chat patter down to a fine art. She is a riot in a forum, but if you get to know her, she's really not that funny or especially glib. To know her wise-cracking self on a forum is completely different from knowing her through more extended conversations, such as emails or blog entries or phone conversations. So maybe (maybe? probably!) I'm biased, but I think that blogs tend to bring out more in-depth conversations and more authentic communication over time. They have more continuity. People do get to know you better, and you just can't sail in a wise-crack and play roles as easily as you can in forum threads. Not that I'm saying everyone does that on the forum, but it is more frequent. I call this the "blog island" on the forum, because I really think it's a bit of a small enclave unto itself, and I rather like it that way.

Bagfish, you have some very similar preferences to mine, and I love Khajurho, and I'm not a florals type. Except...I can't wear Khajuraho in the summer, becase I'm in the hot, humid, windy midwest USA! Florals are better on me in the winter and don't overwhelm me as much. I utterly avoided florals at first, but I got a frimp of Blood Lotus when I was a noob and I loved it -- lotus and dragon's blood alone aren't good on me, but together they produce a lotus incense smell, and I think Khajuraho has a floral incense quality. Kali is another blend with florals to consider -- it's really complex, and again, the florals don't overwhelm. I've layered Kali with O for some amazing results. Which is also something to consider -- if you find a scent that's a good base "mixer," as I find O, you can layer and dilute some of the floral whammy. And I rather like Wanda. It's leather and rose, and while those two notes are normally overwhelmingly dominant on me in other blends, when they fight against each other in Wanda, it somehow works. I especially enjoy Wanda if I layer it with Urd to get the incense element going on. Don't you love it when you get a surprise and figure out that you can wear some florals? My range has certainly expanded in the last year, since I starting trying a lot of BPAL. Happy testing!

A ring-toney version, but a good one. I heard some pathetic ones when I was searching for it. I found a version of the actual song, but you got such a tiny clip, it wasn't worth it. This one plays a good long time and has a lot of the "da-da-dah, da-da-dah" in it. Happy Trails would be a great ringtone! As would The Rockford Files. I love reruns of that show. If you had your arms around James Garner (back in those days), you'd know you had a hold on a MAN. Somehow I always drive everything into the gutter.

I really do love those hippie head shop incense smells, and while Urd is very much my number one nominee, but Blood Lotus is number two. Track down an imp of that if you're able. It smells like a sweet lotus incense, where Urd is the patchouli/nag champa incense. I also think if you can get a decant of Khajuarajo, it's pretty incense-hippie smelling, only in a softer floral way.

Your grandson is perfect, adorable and gorgeous and you look young enough to be his mommy! Congratulations on his birth, I'm sure you will relish every moment with him!

My hairdresser does have a good sense about what is trendy, because she cut my hair into this cut about a month ago, and I haven't been entirely sure about it. It's a lot healthier, but I just wasn't sure. My hair does grow really fast, especially in the summer, and now it's probably a half-inch longer. Anyway, last night I walked by the TV and there was Sandra Bullock on Leno, with my haircut. Mine needs another half-inch or so to hit the same length as Sandy, and I have sideswept bangs and she doesn't. But I'm taking in the Sandy photos at the end of this month and instructing Brandi that I want to maintain at Sandy's length. Same cut, just a bit longer. Sandra, you probably know, went with Matthew McConaughey for quite a while. What you might not know is that her next boyfriend was that my favorite singer and designated ideal cutie-pants, Bob Schneider. I am not very jealous of her about Matthew, but about Bob, oh yeah, I'm jealous. Not really, I just say "good for you, sistah!" Then she married Jesse James, the West Coast Chopper guy. He doesn't do much for me, but I think Sandra is a biker chick at heart. Last night I was listening to Caroline Myss, and sometimes I find her to be borderline moonbatty, but in general I really enjoy her perspective. And that perspective is looking at the intuitive, mystical side of life, as seen by a really brassy Chicago broad who doesn't mince words. I was lucky to pick out the CD that I did, because it was equivalent to getting a good lecture from a friend who pulls no punches. I am not going to lay all my garbage (or as I like to say it in this context, "garh-bhage") on you, but I really need to get my shit together. If I would detail all the complications in my life right now, you'd probably not believe me. Caroline makes some statements that always help my perspective -- to look at the people in your life, especially those who have a great impact upon you, as someone with whom you have a sacred contract. It's not your job to figure out why they are there, or why you are there. And don't worry about your life working or not working if they are there or not there -- because you know what? You weren't born to live for them, you were born to live for yourself. And at the end of the day, if you're meant to be together, it will happen. And if you're not meant to be together, it won't happen. Simply endeavor to live out your end of the deal as well as you possibly can, giving respect to yourself first, and then to the others in your life. But don't take shit off of them if they aren't playing fair. She calls it living in the heart of the paradox, and that's very true. Ah, should it be that easy. I'm there a lot of the time, but then there's always a person or two who are huge, huge challenges. And then I feel like I'm being eviscerated. It's such a lovely sensation. But as one of my other favorite wise women, Pema Chodron, likes to say, a lot of these really strong emotions have a shelf life of 24 to 48 hours. So I'll wait it out, kind of like how I'm waiting for my hair to grow out to Sandra Bullock's length. Actually, I'll forget about how I'm feeling faster than my hair will grow, and I'm not upset about my hair, so what gives?

I received Jack as a frimp in a swap, and I was rather jazzed to try it. I smelled it in the imp and whoa, I loved the whiff -- a very nutty, buttery, spicy pumpkin. I put it on my skin and it's a beautiful warm, foody, autumnal scent. For about an hour after I first applied it, I was ready to run off and order a bottle of Jack right away. But it is good that I got busy and spaced it off, because after an hour, it turned pure clove on my skin. And clove in its very un-sweet purity. I think my skin amps clove mightily -- this happened to me with Al-Shairan, also. And thus, it takes over all of the wonderfully warm and buttery elements of Jack. Dang. For anyone who doesn't have this problem and loves a truly comforting autumn scent, I think Jack would be a dream.

In the imp, Dublin smelled sweet and green to me, very green, very foresty. I was expecting it to be a less milky version of Dana O'Shee, judging from my reaction to the the way it sniffed. Once I tested it, I thought it smelled a lot like Dorian -- very spicy with a green undertone. Since Dorian has a "fougere" element, which is normally defined as smelling of lavender and moss, this makes sense. Within a half-hour, the foresty-green smell in Dublin took over, but not overwhelmingly. I could smell a tiny whiff of rose, but the rose in Dublin must be a milder rose than in some of the other blends, or it truly is teensy little hint, because it doesn't push its way to the front, the way rose normally responds on my skin. But Dublin then keeps getting spicer and richer, and it is a wonderful scent. I've very surprised at how much I love Dublin, because I normally don't do especially well with green scents. But I find it rich, spicy and refreshing, and worthy of purchasing a bottle!

I'm so sorry you're feeling so sad. But I also think it's fine to cry and just be with your sadness. I had a really tough time the first Memorial Day after my dad's death. I went to his grave and it was just so sad. I had a similar experience of wanting to put something in my dad's casket and then I didn't do it. My mother thought putting little things in the coffin was very "pagan" behavior and disapproved, but I wanted to clip a little tuft of hair off of each of his two Golden Retrievers, so he could be buried with a little dog hair on his clothing. I didn't do it, but I used the monetary memorials that my personal friends gave to me to make a donation to Golden Retriever Rescue in his memory. I think having your Father's Day car tucked in behind a photo of your dad is a lovely way to remember him.

The title of this entry reminds me of a Bob Schneider song. I won't even get started talking about sex while I have Bob on my mind, that would truly be TMI! Mojitos? I love mojitos. They are such a great summer drink, although I'm deeply fond of mixing margaritas with sangria, also. I associate all of that with the 4th of July, and damn, that is coming up sooner than it think! ETA: I just found out that Bob Schneider has a new CD coming out in August. WOOT.

It's summer! I know the solstice isn't until a week from today, but I had one marker last night and another one this morning. It's official in my world. Last night I went outside at dusk and the fireflies are out! I'd seen one or two fireflies in the garden over the weekend, but it was during the daytime and I didn't notice them at night. Last night, at dusk, they were rising up out of the garden and twirling all over. The first sight of hundreds of fireflies waking up for the night always stops me in my tracks, because it is so gorgeous and amazing, especially living here on the prairie. We go through the harsh and barren winter, the mercurical spring, and it's hot and dry a great deal of the time in the summer, but you can go outside on summer nights and watch the stars rise in the sky and watch the fireflies repeat the act as they rise up out of the garden. It's just a miracle. And when I walked out to check the baby cardinals in their nest this morning, I discovered that the first day lily of the year is blooming in my garden! Day lilies are named appropriately, since each lily lasts but one day, but fortunately they produce a lot of blossoms. The one that's blooming is a pink-peach color and it literally yells "summertime!"

I saw something like that happen here once. I'd been to listen to a speaker on one of the university campuses here in town, and this particular campus has a lot of arboretum plantings, so it's very bug and animal-friendly. It was about this time of year, the sky was barely light in the west, and I was walking back to my car. I came to a green space where there were seemingly hundreds of fireflies floating up into the air, and they were all glowing but not blinking. I stood there in shock and really wondered if someone had laced what I'd been drinking earlier with a little acid. I've never seen it happen again, it must have been a really synchronous group of fireflies. The critters are so common around here, there's a local group called The Lightning Bugs.

It doesn't sound to me like you're a cheapskate, it sounds like you're a nice person and people want to participate in your wedding out of friendship, because it's meaningful to them!

I buy coffee from a guy who is a custom roaster. He used to have a little downtown storefront where he served coffee beverages and roasted and sold his beans. About five years ago he closed the storefront and built a roasting hut on the farmstead where he lives. Now he sells beans on his web site, but he still delivers beans to the old downtown coffeehouse crowd. He also sends out very chatty emails to his clients to tell us what coffees are in stock, to remind us of the weekly order deadline, and to give us his opinion on current events, or whatever else might be on his mind. It's a bit like walking in on his surreal and rambling discourses when he ran the shop. The man is never short of opinions and is rarely afraid to express them. Did anyone see the movie "Blue In The Face" with Harvey Kietel? (It was the follow-up to the movie "Smoke.") Lou Reed had a cameo role in that movie, and our roaster man is more than just a bit like Lou Reed in "Blue In The Face," sans the cigar. Now don't get me wrong -- this man knows his coffee and roasting techniques thoroughly, and I consider him a master roaster. As a political pundit, it's another thing, although I'm rather amazed he isn't a guest commentator on Fox News. To illustrate this point, here's a sentence from his most recent email. It is one of the most weirdly hilarious things I've read in a long time, if only because I know he was dead serious. Read it and weep or laugh or howl: "So, now what do you think of this? A 25-year-old female Spanish language schoolteacher has been arrested for having sex with an 18-year-old male student. It seems that Texas passed a law against teachers having sex with students. The initial bill was for students 17 years of age or under taking into the fact that the age of consent is 18. But some old fart in the legislature had that dropped and made it any student. Now come on, this man, can sign contracts, he can vote, he can serve his country, he can marry but he can't have sex with his teacher." Well damn it, a man has a right to bonk his teacher! But isn't turn around fair play and that 18-year-old female has a right to bonk her 25-year-old science teacher? I may have to ask him that when he drops of the coffee beans. He'll probably say: "Hell yeah!" If I could play music to close out this segment, it would be The Police, with Sting singing: "Don't stand, don't stand, don't stand so close to me..."

Diva! I clicked on your name rather than your blog title, so I ended up on your profile page. You and I share the same birthdate, although I am much, much, much older. However, Martha Stewart shares our birthdate and she's even older than me, so I shall take consolation in that. So you had a nice blaze of Leo anger yesterday! I think Leos have a certain birthright to externalize some fire every now and then. So you externalized on the forum. No biggie. Besides, you are a Leo and getting ready for your wedding, so that doubles your right to blow your cork. And you didn't blow your cork, anyway... you just got vehemently opinionated and like I said, you are a Leo! Rawr! Your fellow Lioness (Leo sun, Leo rising, Gemini moon = Just Plain Bipolar)

A toilet in a tub would put a cramp in the showering, wouldn't it! I love the new colors and I love the Asian Tiger tile! Woot! Taking a break is a good thing... darkity's eyes could use a rest and Mister Snark can have only so many sassy manicures in a month, you know! And I loved seeing that imp holding its ground in the treasure chest! It seems only appropriate that your treasures should be holding court in the treasure chest.

There's a thread in Randomness about what you'd like to pick as a member title when you get enough points. It occurs to me that some day I may have enough points and I can choose my own member title. So I began to consider options. I cracked myself up with this one, and it would be simply odd to most people, who would probably assume I was a perverted little goth who was overly identified with a certain part of the male anatomy. (This may in fact be true.) But let me explain -- I work in this building: It's nicknamed the "penis of the plains," although I prefer calling it the "prairie phallus." And I think a BPAL forum member name like "Phantom of the Phallus" would be good for a giggle as an inside joke. Besides, if a group of malcontents decided to get all prudish on Live Journal, it would take pressure off of Andrabelle and her Ron Jeremy joke icons. "Who is that valentina who calls herself the "phantom of the phallus?" What is she talking about? Eeeew, gross!" P.S. Spellcheck keeps suggesting "Phyllis" as a correction for "phallus."

Maybe for the bottom half! I like to believe the sculptor was thinking of Russell Crowe when he crafted the face:

Eeek! A headless phallus? Maybe a phallus whose head is cloaked? See that statue on the top of the building? It's called "The Sower" and it depicts a guy out throwing seeds. (See? Phallic innuendo abounds!) A few years ago, The Sower was refinished and some people got to go all the way to the top to see The Sower. A guy in my office got the royal tour, and he said he checked it out and The Sower does not have a package. Apparently Dick Cheney was not the model.

dawndie and darkity = Phallic phonics is phun.

I love it!

The Puddy Cat, also known as Puds or Puddin' (a nod to Puddin' of BPTP!) has happily moved onto the front porch. She's sleeping in the small dog carrier that has a towel inside for her comfort, and is eating Tender Vittles and drinking water. I have this vintage wooden bench on my front porch that was originally a gym bench used in a high school in the 1950's or '60's. It's the kind of thing that basketball teams sat on during games -- it must be 10 to 12 feet long. (Speaking of that, I need to check the Dallas - Miami score...) Anyway, Puddin' likes to sleep on the bench. She's not crying as much and she likes to hop up in your lap if you sit on the bench. She's just a happy camper. She's seeing the vet ASAP, probably Tuesday. I'll probably just drop her off on the way to work and let the vet's office scan her for a microchip, look at those poor ears, generally check her out, and get the hideous clumps of matted hair cut off. They will also be able to give us an idea of her age... I think she's older, looking at the color/condition of her teeth. Assuming she's not microchipped, we'll check Humane Society reports of lost cats. And there's a few people that my DH knows who might want her, although it's also an outside option that we could keep her in the basement. Time will tell! But she's already acting healthier and happier. And she is a sweet pea with such a cute little face. About two years ago, a small town around 30 miles from here was literally flattened by a tornado. A family who lived there were running into their basement, and their cat got spooked and got away from whoever was holding it. They never saw the kitty and assumed it had been killed, until this spring, when the cat returned to their house, now rebuilt on its original site. They knew it was the same cat by the distinctive meow and markings. Where the little thing went for two years, and how it found its way home, is quite the mystery. Maybe little Puds has a similar story, but if not, she'll find a home somewhere, although she seems rather certain that she is home right now!

If you had to pick your favorite "romantic" movie, what would you pick? Romantic is indeed in the eye and mind and heart of the beholder. If you look up "romantic" in Webster's, you'd find definitions that include: "consisting of or resembling romance," "having no basis in fact," "imaginary," "marked by the imaginative or emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious or idealized," "marked by expression or love or affection," and "conductive to or suitable for lovemaking." Indeed, what some call romantic, I might call sentimental and almost maudlin, and thus, unromantic as hell. And I'm sure others might watch my favorite "romantic" movie and wonder what was so romantic about people who were all confused, drinking a bit too much and acting snarky most of the time. But I do love "The Philadelphia Story." First of all, it's too damn funny and witty. It has Cary Grant, Katharine Hepburn and Jimmy Stewart zinging lines back and forth at each other. The snappy repartee is delicious. But what I really find romantic about that movie is that for some people, when you meet your match, when you meet someone who can both dish it out and take it, you just can't let it drop. Ever. Finally you just give it up and give in to what's going on. But the fight is fun and it makes giving in even more delicious. That's a very romantic notion of mine, and "The Philadelphia Story" has it in spades. Sigh... So tell me your favorite romantic movie, and tell me why...

Today's animal story is that a cat was camped out on the front porch last night when I got home. There are feral cats in the neighborhood that are truly wild, and over the winter we'd put a dish of dry cat food out on the porch to hide them over. Lately, a yellow and white cat has been up on the porch, but vanishes when anyone appears. Until yesterday, when it was just hanging out, meowing and acting like it was at home. This isn't a feral cat, it's a poor house cat that was either abandoned or got out of the house and never made it home. The poor little soul has terribly matted hair and mite-infested ears. It's really skinny and a bit skittish, but it wants to be house kitty so badly! It starts kneading its paws and purring when you talk to it, and if it sees you through the window, it meows at you. It will let you pet it if you sit with it long enough and it comes to trust you. It's never hissed or clawed once; it's a sweetheart. What to do? I can not let it in the house very easily, for Mugzy and Ella Bean would try to eat it. Mugzy has apparently declared cats to be his mortal enemies. I could get it inside and lock it in a basement room, but I think it needs veterinary assistance, because it lists around a little bit when it walks. I wonder if it wasn't hit by a car or injured in some manner. All the feline shelters are full, but I can't let this poor thing sit around much longer. I may have to use canned cat food to lure it into a small dog carrier and get it to the vet. I won't take it to the Humane Society, because considering the state of its coat and its tendency to list a little bit, they might euthanize without giving consideration to adoption. This kitty just wants to go home, or to find a new home. The poor, poor baby. It's bad enough to have lost dog karma and baby bird in distress karma, but now lost kitty karma is following me around. For the time being, I'm calling him/her Puddy, since Tweety Bird has always rocked my world.