Two days ago TMC tagged me for this meme. Okay, I wasn't up for it. First of all, I was feeling like crap physically (as if you didn't know that). But more importantly, Dick's mother passed away on Thursday evening. Blogging about anything seemed completely inappropriate, and even right now, not writing something meaningful about her or about the preciousness of our oh-so-short lives seems absurd. Yet, I think back to when a friend of mine's father died, and how we played Boggle for hours on end. A bit of fun is neccessary. Anyway, Dick's mother wouldn't have liked anyone sitting around moping.
I had a long blog entry that I was in the middle of when I heard the news. I just looked it over and decided, nah, I'm not posting that. It was too "heavy" (a word I detest, but I'm feeling lazy) I feel like writing, and I've little to say that isn't too personal. Yes, you heard correctly; I actually do think that some things are too personal to blog about.
Scent Interlude: Thank you, Serge Lutens, for Chypre Rouge. It has helped cheer me up in the last few days. Luca Turin says there's no such thing as aromatherapy, but I respectfully disagree. I found wearing this scent to be truly helpful when I was down. When I'd bring my wrist to my nose, I would have a moment of pure pleasure. Now, that's not what aromatherapy is "for", but I consider it excellent medicine if one can be transported out of oneself while in any sort of pain. I also disagree about Chypre Rouge itself. In the Guide, Chypre Rouge is described as a "disaster" and "reminds [one]. . .[some] smells in nature serve to repel rather than attract." I'd plead that my sense of smell is impaired, but I've liked Chypre Rouge since the first time I sniffed it. Unlike some, I don't care a whit if The Guide and I disagree. So, maybe my nose is untrained and stupid. It's not my job to sniff perfume, nor am I suggesting that you go out and buy or even try Chypre Rouge. I hear most people don't like it, actually. Dick seems to, but he also said something mysterious the other day about my smelling like something akin to manure. I wish I could remember what it was! Now, that's not something one wants others to think, is it? Great, a scent that smells like you've pooped your pants or smell like cow dung. Hey, there's Bulgari Black, which is meant to smell like a rubber fetishist's dream. Maybe there's a scent for coprophiliacs that I haven't heard of yet.
I'm sorry if I've offended anyone. I would imagine I have.
I don't think Chypre Rouge smells like manure. It smells, to me over-ripe fruit, honey, dates, prunes, a touch of desert sherry, a big pinch of
Well, the scent interlude is over, and I have no idea what I came here to write about. Oh yes: Seven weird and random things about me.
* link your original tagger(s) (done above, click on TMC), and list these rules on your blog.
* share seven facts about yourself in the post - some random, some weird.
* tag seven people at the end of your post by leaving their names and the links to their blogs.
* let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blogs and/or twitter.
Okay, here they are (and I'm thinking, is there anything that isn't random and weird about me? And what, exactly, does "random" mean in this context?)
1. Number one has to be, at least tonight, the fact that I love Serge Lutens Chypre Rouge, even though it is supposed to be lousy.
2. Since I've already mentioned Bulgari Black (which is supposed to smell like rubber and talcum powder), I'll admit to owning a latex tank top. It's way too small for me now, though I haven't a clue where and when I'd wear it if it did fit.
3. I didn't learn how to drive until I was two weeks away from turning 30. I passed my road test on the first try. When the tester said I had passed, I gave the guy a kiss on the cheek. I am not a touchy-feely person, so it surprised me as much as it did him. So did my passing the test. I thought I'd fail, for I still hadn't mastered the art of parallel parking. But the little gods of motor vehicles was shining down on me that day as I slid the car oh so beautifully next to the curb.
4. My dream job is being a stand-up comedian (and having a talk show).
5. I bicycled 75-100 miles a day every day for two months when I was 15 years old and spent months in training. This isn't weird, but it sure doesn't sound like something the person who writes ths blog might do. I also wanted to race on a track, but that never wound up happening.
6. I was fascinated with doing standing broad jumps when I was a kid. It seemed amazing to me that one could actually go all that far without running first. I was terrified of high jumping for no apparent reason. I couldn't explain it and still can't. I would run up to the bar really fast and then stop dead. I failed gym when I was in the 8th grade and was grateful that you didn't get held back on account of that.
7. We had to wear gym uniforms at the Junior High School I went to. We had to put our names on the breast pocket, either by using a cloth name tag if we had one, embroidering it, or using a waterproof marker. I embroidered my name. That's not accurate: I embroidered a fake name. It was Gertrude Singer. I knew who Gertrude Stein was (though I'm not sure if I knew what she actually did) and liked her name, but I didn't want to steal it outright. I got in trouble for this bit of silliness and for the fact that I didn't wear white socks. I had taken my white gym socks and tie-dyed them just to be contrary. I suppose this may have contributed to my failing gym class.
Okay, that's that. Now I have to tag seven people to announce seven weird and/or random things about themselves.
I'm going to change things up somewhat. I'm not tagging anyone. I am, once again, asking those who never leave comments to finally just do it. I am also going to post this link on Twitter. So, you can leave your lists in the comments section, you untagged folks. If you have a long response, you can e-mail me (see my profile), and I'll give you your very own post. How's that for an offer? Somehow, I have a feeling that the response to this is going to be poor. C'mon you folks, prove me wrong!
You're it! And again, you know who you are. . .
If you do have a blog, link back. Otherwise, you could ask the next person you speak to "What's something weird about you?", but that might be a real conversation killer. I would imagine the response might be, "Um. Huh?" Then again, you might find out something really interesting. Don't forget to report your findings!
Painting note: Detail from a painting that you can learn more about here. I was too lazy to read the entire article or to look for something else. And no, it wasn't straightforward. Most odd.
Reason for the image? It's a conversation. I doubt any of us look like this, but if you do, please mention it in your "seven weird and random things about me meme".