thesarahscope: (Spooky Mouse Club)

New hair this weekend!
 

Friday evening my magical hair artist whipped and painted and created the most perfect hair she's conjured, yet. Stormy gray and blues brewing and lapping over my skull.  She went down to a two on the buzzed sides. The shorter sides make me feel like a warrior. It feels fierce and coupled with the color, I might be able to conquer the world. It suits me.  I think this one will stay for quite some time!  Perhaps forever.  

A dear friend came back to our office bearing King Cake from Louisiana.  I had never tried it, but I knew of the baby so I insisted that she hide it for us.  The cake tastes like a cinnamon roll, but this one has an over the top cream cheese filling that luxuriously spills out when you cut a slice.  It also has the jewel colored sugar sprinkled on the top that crunches delightfully in your teeth.  Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about because if you've ever eaten a Christmas Tree Cake (by Chef Little Debbie), you've caught the bug.  I do it as a toast to my teeth cleaning friends at the dentist so they can continue to live in style, I insist.  I will happily crunch the sugar bits against my molars until I have clickety clackety porcelain ones that I soak in a cup every night.  It will be worth it, I surmise.  We then read up on the history of the baby, and I was delighted to find that a baker once bought a surplus of porcelain babies that a traveling salesman was selling to put in the King Cake in place of the bean that was usually used.  It became very popular, and when he used all the porcelain infants up, he went with the cheaper plastic ones. I'm not from Louisiana so I'm not sure as to how true this is, but so says the Internet (there is a lot of fighting about whether the baby in the King Cake represents baby Jesus). If you know of another tale, do tell.  I like this traveling salesman story though so I'll keep that one if you don't mind?  

Yesterday my perfume samples came in, and I first tried Salome.  The first smell was awful to me.  It burned my nose, and it reminded me of Grandmothers at church.  It is strong, and it bowls you over.  After a while, I smelled my wrist again, and I enjoyed it.  It is still bold, but it's a nice vintage smell.  It's definitely not a daily wear perfume, though.  It's for a night out at the opera.  It's for the ballet.  Use sparingly, or you'll give yourself a headache.  Trust me, I know.  Of course I would have exquisite tastes, and I adored the sample of Note Vanillee that I tried this morning.  After testing it, I went online to see how much a full size bottle would cost, and it's a cool 235 bucks.  Around 10:30 a.m., I took a whiff of my wrist, and it had faded.  I couldn't detect it at all, and for almost 300 bucks, you'd hope it'd last longer.  The Salome is so pungent it would probably last for four days.  I haven't tried Confetto yet, but I'll report back when I do.  Rumor is that it smells like a better version of Dior's Hypnotic Poison which is my signature scent.  

At work, our office has been infiltrated by a gnat army.  We have been searching high and low for what's drawing them in, but fortunately, our Facilities department brought vinegar traps.  Then a curious student overturned one near my desk, and it smelled of vinegar all day.  He has scented the hallways, and a friend questions, "Why does it smell like cat piss everywhere in here?"  

At lunch, in the food court, I see a man who looks exactly like Charles Manson waiting at a table.  I can't stop staring.  I wonder if anyone has ever told him that?  I'm certainly not going to be the one to break it to him, but I can't help but feel both sorry for him and also repulsed even though he's done nothing wrong.  

thesarahscope: (Spooky Mouse Club)
Our three kitties lazing about: The black and white is Dimitri, the gray one leaning on him is Francis, and the one farthest from those two is Nickel

The Christmas break is over, and it was wonderful. It ended too soon, as usual. Mine was a mix of giving over to the depths of laziness and also packing and starting the move to our new house. The new house is just four houses down from our current house.  That can be both convenient or insulting depending on my mood and how heavy the boxes are that day. Besides the moving, I've been enjoying the gloomy, wet weather quite a bit.  Every morning when I go to take out Mearl, the stubborn pug, it feels as if I'm suddenly on some Welsh coast.  Trudging through piles of wet leaves with my ankles out.  The air is so damp, I look to make sure I didn't step in water.  I like to commiserate with people on nasty weather because, for an introvert like me, it's an easy way to not have to think of some mind numbing small talk everyone seems interested in exchanging. I must admit, however, it's all a blatant lie.  I love the rainy, wild days in the winter. I love avoiding puddles, and I love the sting of the wind. It makes me feel alive.  In summer, it's just awful and humid, but rain in winter is a dream,I confess!  We did the usual and made some trips to visit family over the break which we enjoyed. I gorged myself on literature, olives, and blue cheese.  I ate an ungodly amount of blue cheese.  When I talked to the pusher behind the cheese counter, I insisted, "I want some funky blue cheese.  I mean funky."  She raised an eyebrow, "You want something that kicks you in the teeth?"  "Perfect," I said.  I don't think it's healthy to eat an entire block of it no matter how much you're enjoying the creamy melt in your mouth texture and wrapping your tongue around the chunks of blue mold while reading.  That didn't stop me, but the dog wouldn't leave my side.  Every time she neared me, I'd see her little nose quiver wildly, and she looked eager to find the source of the putrid smell. I once went with my Mom to a wine tasting, and I was much more impressed with the cheese.  These Southern society wives kept droning on and on about the wine, and all I wanted to know was where the hell the cheese came from.  

In other expensive habits I have, I purchased three new samples from my favorite perfume site Luckyscent. I ordered Note Vanillee, Salome, and Confetto.  A lot of people said in the reviews of Confetto that it was really similar to Hypnotic Poison which is  my signature scent so I'm sure I'll like that one.  I hope I don't like them too much because the full size bottles cost a shit ton.  

Kelly won at gifts as he does on every occasion.  One gift from him I've been enjoying lately is our new subscription to FilmStruck.  I was heartbroken when The Criterion Collection moved off Hulu so of course, we had to pick this up.  He also booked a stay for us in February at Stonewind Retreat to stay in a yurt.  There's heat and wifi and an indoor bathroom so I can go.  I still have my fear of bears, and the deep dark secret wish that they would all become extinct, at least in the United States. I've never come across a bear in the wild, but I've had millions of nightmares involving them since I was young, and I try not to go anywhere where there is a potential to run into one hence the reason that I don't go hiking (one of many).  

Last night, I took myself back to childhood.  There was a pot of leftover rice on the stove, so I reheated it and added milk, butter, and a teeny bit of splenda, teeny bit of honey, and tons of cinnamon.  My Mom used to make this for me when I was little.  I basically find it to be a kheer knockoff, but it's still yummy and was as good as when I was a kid.  Not as good as kheer, mind you, but it'll do.  

I had a wonderful lunch with my Goldilocks friend today.  She is always a wonderful listener, a light to everyone, a curly haired perpetual sunshine.  It was so good to catch up with her.  We laughed a lot, as always.  There is never enough time to get everything out in a lunch break, though.  We'll have to meet up again soon.  One of my intentions this year is to try to be a better friend.  I have been blessed with friends who have the patience of saints and have never given up on me when I'm down in a hole.  The problem is, I'm always in the hole.  I owe them more.  They deserve better.  I am going to try.  I love them, but actions speak louder than words so I hope to do better this year.  I'm sorry for the many times I let everyone down in the last year.  It probably won't be the last time, but I strive to make it not as common in 2017.  

I'm really happy to be over here now.  For some reason my blog always made me feel like I  had to be more formal, and like I couldn't just ramble like in the old Livejournal days.  I have rambled my way through this, and it feels wonderfully familiar and comforting.  I hope you all will feel free to comment, and if you have an account on here and you stumble across this journal, please feel free to add me.  I look forward to making new online friends, too!   

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thesarahscope

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