…perfume. I really appreciate a lovely perfume, which might come as a surprise to those who know me because I almost never wear it myself. The reason for that is: perfume always smells different on me than on other people. It sucks, man. I have fallen into the trap many times of sniffing someone’s glorious scent, buying it for myself, and being thoroughly disappointed. Every time. I mean it doesn’t smell bad, but it doesn’t smell as breathtakingly lovely as it did on the person I originally smelt it on.
Does this happen to you too? Is my skin just a super-weird chemical makeup compared to regular people’s?
WHY CAN’T I JUST SMELL RIGHT?
Oh man. But speaking of perfume, are you ready to cringe with me over an embarrassing story from my impressionable teen years? Of course you are. That’s why you come here on a Sunday, right? So I’ll set the scene. I’m 16 years old. It’s my year 11 dance. I know basically 3 boys, 2 of whom are younger than me and the third is too old for me to take to the dance because he’s just graduated from high school the year before. So I’m at the dance with a friend-of-a-friend, a lovely chap who I’ve met on one other occasion. I’m having fun, I’m wearing my first-ever formal dress and feeling a bit prettier than average, and my date is being the perfect gentleman. But also, I stink. Why? Because, in a bid to let my beautiful new So…? perfume shine, I have for-gone the liberal amounts of heavily scented Impulse aerosol I usually adorn myself with, opting instead to go deodorant-free because the concept of unscented deodorant is yet to make itself known in my little world. Unfortunately I also have sweaty, hormonal teenage girl arm pits. Within half an hour of arriving at the dance, my predicament becomes obvious to me (and probably those within a 4-foot radius), and for the rest of the night I am darting between the dance floor and the bathroom, helplessly splashing water in my traitor-pits in a fruitless bid to make myself smell more neutral.
Don’t get me wrong, I still had an awesome night, but there was definitely an element of emotional scarring left at the end of it.
Maybe this is why I hate dancing?
So funny story. Coming up soon on the blog, I’ve got a post on Escaping the Takeout Trap. It’s got some great tips for avoiding takeout food – tips that I need in my own life! But in order to have relevant images for the post I kinda… needed to buy a bunch of takeout food! Ahem. So today I sent Chris out at lunch time and he came home with the goods. Cheeseburgers, fried chicken, chips, gravy. Mmmm deep-fried goodness. And when the styling and photographing was over, well, we had to do something with all that food, so… yeah. When you see that post go live soon, you can look at those images in disgust and mutter “She fed that to her family.” Actually, to be clear, Jackson was sleeping. So it’s just the two adults in the house with greasy fingers today.
To be honest I have much higher standards for what I feed Jackson than what I feed us in general. That’s normal, right? Like, I’m just weirdly obsessed with getting vegetables in him. So if we’re eating rubbish, we do it behind his back. Don’t get me wrong, he’s indulged in a couple of Happy Meals in his life but like… with broccoli as well. Do other parents do that? My mum laughs at me but I mean, he eats that broccoli so…
Guys let’s just call it a Sunday and move onto my favourite links for the week, kay?
Thiiiiis rainbow faux flower centrepiece is almost as good as Google image searching “Lisa Frank”. Almost.
While I’m feeling rainbow-happy, let’s talk about this sand art cake. It reminds me of being 6. In a good way. The end.
What I finally learned to stop buying at 25 – some great wisdom in here! I’m still super guilty on the non-investment accessories front though. Oh well!
If somebody could make this smothered skillet chicken with thyme butter mushrooms for dinner tonight, specifically for my dinner tonight, that would be fab.