valentina

In the imp, Miskatonic University smells like boozy coffee to me, or something like a cross between hot buttered rum and coffee. Once it's on my skin and through initial drydown, it smells like a caffe latte with a flavored syrup. After it's had a bit of time to thoroughly dry down, all the components of the scent are there, and I smell a dusty library in an old building with a lot of oak woodwork, and someone nearby is drinking a caffe latte with a shot of hazelnut syrup. For once, my body allows all the components of a scent to stand together without one dominating the others. Misk U is an amazing juxtaposition of scents. It holds together and doesn't morph, and it has good lasting power and throw. It's very much a bookish scent, but not austere -- it has warmth and richness. Love it!

I agree with olympia's suggestion of Ravenous, it is a beautiful blend. I didn't see Vixen mentioned above, and it has orange blossom, patchouli and ginger. It's very pretty. I never considered myself a florals sort of person, and I especially eschewed jasmine. But I really love Siren. It has ginger, apricot, jasmine and vanilla in it and I consider it in the same family as Ravenous and Vixen. I always thought it was very strange-sounding combination, and then I received it as a frimp from the Lab and tried it. Wow, it is wonderful; no one element of the blend stands out; it's very mysterious and wonderful. I actually like it better than Ravenous and Vixen, and I like them a lot, and it actually gets more of a reaction of the males of the species than the other two.

Dang. I had almost talked myself out of ordering Glasnya, and upon reading your description of how it smelled on you, I want to try it again!!!

Since I work around politics, you're going to have to get a bit of it today, but you'll be entertained enough, since I'm not going to go on a rant. The 3rd Congressional district in my state is basically the western two-thirds of the state, and it can range from typically midwestern farms to very western ranches. (I don't live in that district.) It is also Republican as the day is long, but this guy is running as the Democratic candidate and he might just win. The race is so close that el presidente is actually coming to campain for the Republican candidate this weekend. This district hasn't sent a Democrat to Congress for 40+ years, I believe. There's no incumbent in this race, the retiring Congressman is the ex-football coach. Yes, I'm serious. The major newspaper in the state endorsed the Democrat, something nearly unheard of. This is an entertaining race to observe, and women statewide have been happily watching his commercials. Go to his website and see why: http://www.scottkleeb.com Even though he's a Democrat, he is a Midwestern Demo running in a conservative district, so temper your expectations if you're a blue state Demo. But I love a good barnburner of a race with a new candidate who is creating excitement and buzz. And I really am talking about it on a political level. A lot of people aren't being so wonkish -- many women talk about him the way I talk about Bob Schneider. I do think he's inordiantely photogenic, although he's not ugly on video. (You can watch his commercials on the website.) And if you look at the photos page, notice all the hysterically giggling women wherever he goes. Some of those women probably haven't squealed like that in years. I think some women have an involuntary physical response to cowboy boots and jeans, worn very, very well. They just can't control themselves. Whatever it takes to get elected, baby! Even if he doesn't win, it's not the last of him. Anyone who can come out of nowhere as a Democrat in a district that usually gives the Republican candidate 80% of the vote isn't going to be held down. It's stuff like this that makes me remember why I do enjoy politics. And even if you're apolitical, you can just look at the scenery.

I get migraines, so I'm very sympathetic to how you must have felt. Why do these things happen when we have migraines? I think the head just hurts too much and -- ARGH BLARGH -- it seemingly makes everything go from bad to worse!!! Somehow your story brought back a time when I had a migraine and I was riding in a car down a street where all the houses had tons of Christmas lights, and I nearly passed out from trying not to puke. That said, that is the funniest story, and your hubby must be a pretty sweet guy. Most guys would have been ROTF, trying to take pictures, ect., so he wins points in my book. I wouldn't have tolerated laughter if I'd been in your shoes (or should I say, your tub), so it was good he didn't laugh. Maybe he feared for his life? I get a bit homicidal when my head hurts that much. I hope your head feels better today!

I am a Leo and I can't believe all the Leos haven't come rampaging over yet, to carry out about being a sun sign. What, Leos, carrying on about themselves? Anyway, on others, I tend to like dark, earthy scents (vetiver, patchouli), leather, tobacco, chocolate and musk. I also like vanilla. And some green scents, but moreso when they are combined with earthy scents. Generally, really warm-to-hot scents, like cinnamon and ginger aren't my favorites unless they're mellowed with something. I think it depends on how much fire is in your sun sign person, but the really "hot" scents tend to make me wince. I'm not big on aquatics, on me or anyone else.

Oh no! Fergus, the soccer hooligan, pushed LaVerna too far. Evidently she's watched too many Charles Bronson vigilante justice movies in her life, for she has utterly no remorse. Judging from his grinning death mask, Fergus was happy that he would be joining Beetlejuice's posse of the undead, and right now he's no doubt trying to get Wyonna Ryder to marry him. Now everyone turn up Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" full-blast, and sing along!

LaVerna was based upon the wife of the man who inspired Frankensteer and she is an old rip! Fergus was inspired by Michael Keaton in "Beetlejuice," a movie I find funny.

A few years ago, I decided that it would be fun to make odd papier mache heads for Halloween. My original notion was to make jack-o-latern heads in the style of the old German papier-mache pumpkin heads, but my mind soon went off into stranger things. I made a few almost life-sized heads of individuals, all with their own names and stories. As a friend at work told me: "I'm not sure what I find the most disturbing -- the fact that you made these utterly odd things, or the fact that you developed names and a biographies for each of them." There's a stuffed dummy in farmer clothing sitting on the front porch at Halloween. Most of the time it has a generic head on it, but when my creations wish to have a body, they get to "head it up." Here they are, along with their stories. Fred Frankensteer has his name because he's a cross between Fred Flintstone, Frankenstein, and a steer. An actual person was the basis for Frankensteer's creation. Frankensteer is the result of a research project carried out by an insane UNL ag institute scientist. He now lives on a farm and is frequently anxious about his life, but is too dumb to really know what to do about it. For that reason, he fits in well and votes Republican. LaVerna is the daughter of LaVonne and Vern. She's a waitress at the local greasy spoon and is also Frankensteer's girlfriend. While she has a ring in his nose, she doesn't have his ring on her finger, thus accounting for her rather truculent demeanor. She once set a field of Frankensteer's hay on fire with her cig, but he didn't yell at her, mainly because he was too afraid she'd kick his ass. El Cockatillo is a famed Mexican wrestler who aquired his name because his mask resembles a Cockatiel. He is also known to shriek madly for no good reason. He was driving through Nebraska on his way to visit family in the U.S., when his transmission blew out next to one of Frankensteer's farm fields. He has remained on the farm ever since, but can't figure out exactly why. Fergus is a soccer hooligan from Scotland who was sent to Frankensteer's farm courtesy of a U.K. version of the "scared straight" program. It has been unsuccessful. Fergus takes great glee in picking on Frankensteer and then getting the snot beaten out of him by LaVerna and El Cockatillo. He proudly sports his latest shiner, courtesy of LaVerna crushing a beer can on his face. And from everyone at my house to you, Happy Halloween!

I actually have two other heads, my version of a 21st century Louise Brooks, and Mr. Cigar Head, who is a cigar smoking a cigar. LuLu has taken up residence in my office, and Mr. Cigar Head is easily blown around and it was a bit windy when I took the photos on Saturday. I also did a series of mini-pumpkins with faces. They're only about 4 or 5 inches around. I have couple of doofus guys, a guy in a ball cap, Groucho Marx and a very sublime Zen-like white pumpkin. I get them out every year and display them indoors. Papier mache is a riot, but it's so damn messy and it beats the hell out of your fingernails. Ever the vain thing, am I.

Hee! This little group is rather, uhm.. colorful! I once read that the Valentina comix by Crepax were dark and hallucinatory, kind of like my life, at times. Valentina was a fashion photographer. All I do is photograph papier mache heads on my front porch.

A few of us in my office found out that our former coworker isn't expected to make it to 2007. He refuses to take a defeatist attitude, and while some people might call it serious denial, I've never read a story about someone who beat the odds who didn't have that positive attitude. So I think he should just go for it, and the rest of us can steady ourselves for what might happen, but in the meantime, support him in every step of his process. One of my coworkers took him to the doctor today, and was given instructions to give a couple of us in the office thank-you hugs (both females, of course). So my coworker gave me a hug, and he told me that he later on got a waft of Snake Oil that had apparently transferred from me to his shirt. Hee! He wasn't complaining, not in the least. In fact, he said he might wear that shirt all weekend. Goofus. So I'm making chicken and sausage gumbo this weekend and I'm packing up some for my ailing buddy. He does like Cajun food, I know that much. I wish I could brew in some get well voodoo, so maybe I'll try to hold those intentions while cooking it. I went to an aryuvedic cooking workshop once, and the teacher talked about the importance of cooking with good intentions. It can't hurt. However, if I'm making a gumbo, it's really difficult not to have sexual fantasies while making a roux. You have to stand there and stir so long, what else is there to do? I am such a perv. I will control myself. Otherwise my poor friend will call me up and tell me that he wanted to listen to Aerosmith after eating that gumbo, and damn, is that Joe Perry something else or what? I had a PayPal balance that I didn't expect to have, so I went in tonight and spent it on the Lab. I purchased 4 GC bottles; I have a decant circle set of holiday scents coming later on, and I may order a few of them. But the PayPal balance was going to burn a hole in my brain, and I couldn't wait. I keep falling in love with GC scents, and for that, I feel fortunate. (Now watch me go berzerk for the bottle of 13 that I have on order.) But tonight I ordered The Lion; I am a Leo, how did I go so long without The Lion? I know why -- I didn't like amber until I tried BPAL, and it took me a while to work up enough courage to test BPAL amber scents. I also ordered Dragon's Milk (never tried it, but if it doesn't work on me, I know a couple of nice people on the forum who could find a wee bottle of Dragon's Milk in a surprise package), Perversion and Follow Me Boy. FMB smells great on its own, but I love layering it with Siren. I love the sight of all of the little bottles, all lined up in a row. Damn. I am so lucky to be healthy and have a sense of smell and be able to enjoy this stuff.

I have the mental image of my friend eating some gumbo, then suddenly yelling: "ARGH BLARGS! I want to watch "Ocean's Eleven!"

Well of course it's fine to use valentina, since my name isn't really valentina, and I stole the name from a Guido Crepax graphic novel series. Crepax's Valentina had her share of adventures, no question about it, and she looked like Louise Brooks, so that's why I love her image.

For whatever it's worth, I hang around this forum because there are rules, because it is well moderated, and because the mods are intelligent and fair-minded individuals. I've visited (but not for very long) a forum that was unmoderated and became complete anarchy, and a forum run by a "forum host" who had to be the expert on everything and would slap down the people who didn't bow at her feet. When I first showed up here, I couldn't believe that someone had finally struck the right balance, and that's why I enjoy this place so much. Every decision that has been made in the H&E matter was done so using very openly-stated rules and guidelines, gathering facts in a thorough and logical progression, and giving the offending party every opportunity to comply. QS and all the mods refused to be manipulated. Because of that, the you are painted as being "mean," when quite simply, you're enforcing the rules that make this forum a pleasant place to visit. I'd also wager that my opinon is a fairly common one among people who visit this forum. There are lot of people who may take your work for granted, but there's also members who do appreciate what's going on behind the scenes.

Hey, I'm in Nebraska, and that's damn near gormet here!

I had problems with the IN site to such a degree that I quit subscribing for over a year. It can really start to smack of "the gospel according to Ken," IMHO, and sometimes Ken can get a little around the bend. But I know that by saying that, I'd be accused (by the IN devotees) of being a mean green meme person, blahblahblah. For example, the newsletter that included the article I linked to made some rather patronizingly sniffy remarks about Barak Obama being stuck in the green meme, and I thought, dudes, he's slogging through the mire that is the Republican-controlled U.S. Senate (maybe not for long if the elections change the balance of the Senate) in the Bush-administration D.C., don't be looking down your noses at him. I don't give a shit if the IN people are at the highest level of realization, don't get down on someone who isn't at your level but is out doing his green meme best in the middle of the bullshit. Transpersonal psychology is really fascinating stuff, but when its devotees get into this "nanner-nanner-nanner, I'm more realized than you" bullshit, they do themselves no favors. So obviously, I have issues with the place, but Stuart's music is good and I think he has a wicked funny sense of humor, and he's probably good for the IN community.

Cool! Another Integral person! Oh yes, Stuart plays at the OM center in Omaha 2 or 3 times a year, and I watch him on the IN site. I don't watch enough of their video clips or listen to the audio clips, but I do have my favorite featured guests and try to catch what they're saying. We could probably chart what level and line BPAL addiction is on, but I'm not going to take the time!

I forwarded it to a coworker, and here was his response, which included a comment about another coworker, whose name has been removed in a merciful gesture, lest his bragging be published on the web. Actually, it's just one of those responses: Perhaps the greatest article I've ever read - now I am really starting to wonder about xxxxx's claim that he is the greatest sex-haver of all time. ETA: Here's another friend's response. I don't think my friend is clueless, because her humor factor is entirely too high! Hubby is going to love this one. His tag line for me (and I believe it is accurate) is "Seldom uncertain, never right." I always think I'm more knowledgeable and more adept at things that I really am! But at least now I know I have lots of company.

Here's a visual for you: Last night I came home from the gym and decided to go sit in the basement and watch a bit of a Lucinda Williams "Austin City Limits" DVD with Puddin' Tom. Ella Bean and Mugzy had to accompany me, and at some point, I was sitting on the dog couch (a $5 garage sale loveseat) with Puddin' Tom across my lap and Ella Bean next to me, her butt facing me. Puddin' was doing his happy cat paw kneading thing, and he had his legs stretched out so far that he wasn't kneading my leg, he was kneading Ella's butt. Ella's hair is thick enough and her butt is squishy enough that it apparently felt good. In the meantime, Mugzy has crawled up and sprawled out on the other couch, which was my Mom's old couch and must be about 7 feet long. (She got it so my 6'4" father could take naps on it and not have to scrunch up.) And I thought, something is really odd about this picture, although it's rather typical of my life. Just crawl on me, everyone, that's my purpose in life! A note about the Lucinda Williams DVD -- it was from a 1998 Austin City Limits performance, so it showcases the earlier part of her career. Her sound back then was a folk-country-cajun-blues brew. And absolutely, the song "Sweet Old World" makes me want to cry every time I hear it. I never do cry, but I want to. Lucinda wrote a few suicide songs in the earlier part of her career because he was involved with a guy who killed himself. "Pineola" is a pretty graphic description of a suicide's aftermath, but "Sweet Old World" is a very poignant reminder of all the little things that are very precious about being alive and embodied. It absolutely makes you want cry, but then you want to run out and find the person you adore the most in the world, just so you can to be around them. Or at least that's the response that I have to that song. A friend of mine is always bitching that I adore these songs that would make most people take a fistful of antidepressants. I think I've talked about this woman before -- she listens to The Andrews Sisters, the Monkees, and old-time musicals like "South Pacific" and "Oklahoma." I told her that is the most mind numbingly annoying musical blend I can imagine. I am often shocked we are friends. Anyway, there I was, sitting on the dumpy little couch, covered with animals, listening to "Sweet Old World." Not a bad thing for a rainy evening in October!

Believe it or not, the basement/rec room area is where the TV that's hooked up to a DVD player is located. There's not a lot of TV-watching at my house, other than the spouse's football viewing on weekends and me watching TV during the high holy hour of 8 pm CDT on Thursday nights, if CSI is not in reruns. There's a little TV upstairs, but it's mainly just to catch the weather and news.

Since there's an 1980's retro scene going on right now, I flash back to the cartoon strip "Bloom County." And "The Far Side" was a big deal back then. And "Calvin and Hobbes." I had a discussion with a friend about the how the '80's was a golden age of contemporary cartoons. As winter approaches, I inevitably get an email that is a compilation of all the "Calvin and Hobbes" cartoons where Calvin made snowpeople doing all manner of twisted things. And didn't almost everyone have a stuffed toy in the likeness of Opus the penguin? I still have both of my Opus stuffies, one is a Christmas Opus. But, I have a rarity, something terribly special and wonderful -- I have a stuffed Bill the Cat toy. Something about his scrawny neck always leads to an association with Nancy Reagan's scrawny neck. Last year for Christmas, I got "The Last Basselope" by Berk Breathed, the "Bloom County" creator. You'll recall the Basselope was the Basset Hound with antlers. I really do need to take a photo of Ella Bean in antlers and use it on a Christmas card. And in the '80's and part of the '90's, you could liven up most stalled-out discussions with the question: "What is your favorite "Far Side?" You know what's coming next... in the '80's, there was this trend for all the yuppie moms in the first wave of minivans to have triangular "Baby On Board" signs. Some of you reading this were probably the babies on board. (Gah! I feel OLD!) Anyway, my favorite Far Side was of a lady mosquito (beehive hair, lipstick) driving a van with a "Maggot On Board" sign in the window. I used to be a distance runner in the '80's. Running all over the place, I used to run by all those minivans and just get really depressed. Not because I wanted kids, but because I would see that lifestyle, picture myself in it, and feel instantly stultified. My running was a bit symbolic of my "running free" attitude in the '80's, when I used to toss throw pillows at the TV when Reagan came on the news and discovered the joy of mute buttons on remote controls. A few boyfriends were a bit confused the first time the "hit the mute and throw the pillows" drill occurred. Well, they're called throw pillows for a reason. I never dated Republicans. Sometimes I think that maybe if I'd met the right person at the right time, I could have been a yuppie '80's baby boom mom. If the right sort of guy could have gotten my attention and married me really young... nah, no way! I didn't date Republicans! I'm not sure I dated a Republican, ever. Most of them take one look at me and see trouble. No hold it, I did date one, and that was in the early '90's. He was cute, but way too Rush Limbaugh-ized in the head, and I only went out with him once. I have one wonderful, crystallized memory of the '80's, and I'm sure this says something about me, but I'm not sure what -- I was out for a long run, it was January or February, it was cold but not quite bitter (maybe 15 or 20 degrees), I was in my Gore-Tex running suit so I was warm enough, it was dark outside, maybe 6:30 or 7 pm, it was snowing a little bit and the wind was eddying the dusty snow around in the street. I was running towards a particularly busy intersection, and I hit all of the green lights so I didn't have to stop. The darkness, the snow, the streetlights and the headlights made everything in the world look silver and black. Running was no effort whatsoever. It was just perfect, away from Reagan on TV, the Republicans didn't matter, the minivan yuppie moms were all home being efficient, and I was running free.

Filgree Shadow, that was a very detailed research process/explanation, and I'm likewise impressed! I've seen the H&E thread in the retail therapy section of the forum popping up a lot in recent days. I'd looked at it when there was a bit of an Underpants dupe controversy going on, and didn't know what to make of it. I haven't looked at the thread very much since then -- I know she has her ardent fans, and I didn't count myself in the group. You see, I purchased some O from her last spring in her forum sales thread, and she did send me a number of samples. It was then that I realized that she was another etailer. I appreciated the samples, I suppose, but I just didn't like any of them. I didn't even test them, and I gave them all away. I can't even say what didn't work for me, except that they lacked the depth and soul that I get in BPAL blends. There was no vibration there, it was just a smell. I agree that the "oh oops, I just didn't understand" excuse was lame, especially after it was used over and over and then she set up a second account. That's just plain sneaky and dirty pool. I saw the moderator's post about how second accounts weren't allowed, and wondered what had prompted it. I think the mods bend over backwards to inform people of the rules and give them a chance to comply; this once again seems to be the case -- they were very fair in their process. I did scan the H&E thread a bit before commenting here, and some of the posts were effusive to the point of excess, IMHO. I have to wonder if some people were getting freebies in exchange for exceedingly glowing commentary on this forum. This might be a goofball conspiracy theory on my part, but seriously, I haven't seen people on this forum rave about BPAL/BPTP to such a fawningly effusive extent. Maybe H&E products are that good to some people, it's just from my experience, they didn't deserve such a lathering up. So again, thanks for the summary of events -- I had no idea that this was going on. And just as a counterpoint, for the epitome of class, look at how olympia handled the opening of her Possets perfume company. Filgree, I know you've probably seen it, but if anyone else hasn't seen it and they're reading my long-winded response, go look at it. Her first post really impressed me as how a person of integrity would handle such a situation, and she continues to handle it with grace and style. Beth came on to wish her well, and that likewise was a very gracious and lovely gesture.

The title of this blog entry is the name of a Bob Schneider song. It has a few nonsensical lines in it, and according to Bob, those lines were word phrases that came to him in dreams or just bubbled up out of his brain. I've always listened to that song when things are going on in my life that I simply can't explain. Ain't that the way life is supposed to be? I 'spose so. So as I write this, I'm sitting with Mugzy (the Boxer), Ella Bean (Basset Queen and current avatar) and Puddin' Tom all watching me. Yes, Puddin' Tom! I've been bringing him inside and with the advent of cold weather, he's staying indoors more and more. They all get along. Ella Bean really wants to lick him and mother him, and he's just not ready for that, but his way of repelling her advances is to just hold his paw up in the air, as if he's going to bat her. She knows enough to stay away. Mugzy just ignores him, although Puddin' usually gives the Mug-Bug a friendly "hello" meow when they encounter each other. I'm very proud of all of them. I saw a couple of people in the last day who make me really, really happy. I was incredibly mellow and calm this afternoon. Then I came back to work after lunch and discovered that my former coworker (the one I mentioned a couple of entries ago) is very, very, very sick. He should be in a hospice, but being either very stubborn or in total denial, he won't admit he's dying. A guy in my office, who's one of the sick guy's best friends, told me that when he was at the hosptial on Friday, the sick guy was talking about how I'd come down to his office a few times, once to give him coffee beans, and once to give him a vintage TV show photo (of Richard Boone in "Have Gun Will Travel"). He said it meant so much to him, and I had absolutely no idea how it had brightened his day. Hell, and I thought it was my bra! Well, that too. That, to me, is proof that you never know when you're doing something that is a big deal to someone else, either good or bad. Don't get me wrong; I have another friend who's been a black hole lately. She and I used to have a friendship based upon a certain mutual regard, but in recent years it's become a very needy, one-sided thing for her, where I'm supposed to be Ms. Sunshine-Logical-Never Has A Problem. She and I have both been there for each other in difficult times in the past, but honestly, now it's all about her. I'm nice to her, but I hold my space rather intensely these days. Even when she's nice to me, it's as if there are strings attached, and my crap detectors really start to ping. I wish I could be like Puddin' Tom and just hold up a paw at her Ella Bean-like approaches and get her to walk off, but I think people are more clueless than animals would ever dream of being. It was a day of ups and downs. I don't know how to feel, except lucky that I got to see people who really rock my world and I was able to enjoy them. Ain't that the way life is supposed to be? It strikes me that this entry had a bit of a Carrie Bradshaw quality to it -- you know, starting out with a question and taking off from there. It annoys and amuses me that "Sex And The City" has affected my writing style, although I never recall Carrie writing about death and sex, although she should have. Intense sensory experiences are often when we feel our most alive and embodied, and that includes really good desserts, sex and shoe sales. And how could I forget? Sniffing the best perfume oils in the world, and we know where to find them!

Thank you! I don't feel as bad about somehow absorbing a vaugely Carrie-ish writing style. My photo is not on the side of a bus, either. That's a good thing! However, if Chris Noth (aka "Mr. Big") wanted to show up and smooch on me for a while, I probably wouldn't say no.