Quote of the Day, Love: Oscar Wilde

To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Go ahead and search it up

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Coming Soon

Proper Decorum and Etiquette for Generations X, Y, and Beyond

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Disaster from a Distance VI: Watching the Detectives

I almost never get up early on Saturdays. Sleep is the one luxury that is simultaneously free and priceless. After Valentine's Day in the northwest, the sun makes a brief appearance, shining its elusive light on the gloomily vitamin-d deficient population below. As I walked across the university campus, my boots sunk into the spongy rain-saturated soil.
Standing at a cross walk, I noticed the scent of infant plants stretching and warming up for their frantic race to meet the sun.  A single tenacious crocus peeked out from the dark loam and as I crossed the street its beauty seemed even more poignant when compared with its surroundings of scantily built condos and the scent that seems ever-present in any mini mall or on any city street; deep fried onions. I sighed and wished I had slept in after all.  Poetry readings are at best baffling and at worst, embarrassing for the audience if not the author. 
It had been a murky muddy winter and that morning was the first of  hose warm February days when the first crocus pokes its head from under the soggy soil and everyone takes off one of their layers or coats or sweaters.  Jennifer invited me to her poetry reading and though I loved sleeping in, I still drove to a small used bookstore to hear her read. The great thing about going places alone is that there are absolutely no encumbrances to people watching; no pesky expectation of chatting with another person. Composed mostly of other readers and friends and family members, the audience was clad in the Seattle uniform of fleece vests and ironic t-shirts.  The scent of bitter hot espresso  wafted through the vents of the store from the stand outside and my stomach growled like a caged animal in the middle of a poem about pain or love, I couldn't really tell which.
The pound of the espresso cups, whir of the coffee grinder, and whoosh of the foam attachment all familiar sounds, left me feeling calm somehow. Still, I felt a bit restless and I continued to indulge my habit of buying travel books and dreaming up marvelous vacations to places warm, exotic, and spice-scented. Turning into the international travel section I saw two figures huddled together conspiratorially.  A large women woman with broad shoulders and a skinny hipster man held a book about Brazil and whispered.  As a light brown bobbed head turned, I saw the squared glasses, the heart shaped face, the look of constant disdain mixed with the joy of planning a wedding or prison break out. Theresa's eyes met mine briefly and the workings of her mind were clearly evident.  She tapped Matt nonchalantly on the shoulder keeping a neutral face.  Then, they both turned and walked away quickly.  
Though I am no detective, it was fairly simple to follow them to their next destination.  Just like a chase scene in an old film noir flick, they ran to a crowded place, hoping that they could blend into the crowd.  However, this wasn't a packed and darkened movie theater, but a florescent-lighted sparsely attended lecture on vegan canning parties.  I hung back where they could not see me in the self-help section until they moved again.  As they opened the door to the street, their hands brushed against each other and instead of quickly moving away, Matt patted Theresa's hand as she blushed. 
Cloth ballet flats are a highly impractical shoe for detective work especially in Seattle; the soles do not last, and the vamp is too low.  Feet damp and clammy, I followed them at a distance, ducking into stores to avoid detection. All I was missing was a newspaper with strategically placed holes cut out; then again, I suppose that is a bit of an anachronism now. What a shame. After crossing the university campus, I saw them walk into a lecture hall. I didn't have a ticket but the board outside the room read, "Teaching business in rural South America, a volunteer's guide."  Pretending to be one of the paid members, I stopped another attendee,
"Hi, I'm trying to find the American Sign Language seminar. Is that where you are headed over there?" I pointed to the lecture hall.
"That's next door I bet," he answered, "I'm going to this one here." and he pointed to the door.
"A lecture about Brazil, is it a book talk?"
"No, it's an orientation for a bunch of us who are going to South America for three years to teach indigenous people how to start up small businesses. It's probably too late for you to sign up. Sorry, I have to go," and with that, he entered the lecture hall.
As was Theresa's habit, she sat in the front row, her three ring binder laid out in perfect order.  As the door closed I saw Theresa gingerly pick up Matt's hand. As he held her palm to his lips, I saw them exchange a look of sadness and hope too.  He kissed her hand, the door closed, and I walked to my car wondering if I could spot the crocus again.

The End
Or is it?

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Inspirational quotes for the day


"Bulldogs have been known to fall on their swords when confronted by my superior tenacity."
-Margaret Halsey

With love and patience, nothing is impossible." 
- Daisaku Ikea (Japanese philosopher)

"Tenacity is a pretty fair substitute for bravery, and the best form of tenacity I know is expressed in a danish fur trapper's principle" 'The next mile is the only one a person really has to make."
-Eric Sevareid, American Journalist.


Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

So Maybe I Should Ask More Questions

Good news all! I am done with classes as of August 18th. Except for my thesis/project this Winter, I'm done with papers, QRQs, lesson plans, $100 textbooks, the commute to the beautiful haven that is Broadway in Everett.

Lovely Broadway in Everett WA. About 1 mile from school.
Today, for example, I stopped at MacDonalds to get a yogurt parfait to be accosted by not one but two different guys asking for money because they just got out of jail. (I'd work on my pitch if I were you guys.) Then as I stood in line, this weird looking guy in his 20s flipped out about not having light mayo on his double cheeseburger. He demanded a new burger by yelling and when the people on the line didn't hear him and one said, "no" in conversation with another line worker, he flipped out.
"You won't give me a new burger! You can't just scrape the mayo off, I want a NEW BURGER!!!"
I looked cautiously at the guy next to me and remembered Zomieland rule number 17, Know Your Exits. I planned on bolting through the door to my right or heading for the walk in freezer to hide. Either that, or I'd silently text  the police. Luckily, the guy calmed down as the manager explained that they would not scrape the mayo and would give him a new burger. I wondered what would have happened if they refused?
Good news; after August, I won't have to find out! Whoo hooooo!
I will be wearing one of these sooner than I first thought!

Masters Hood Directions http://www.pcci.edu/graduation/images/HoodInstructions.png
Loveley Broadway on Everett, (Note the bail bonds place.) http://www.google.com/http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5108/5620614278_bd37699d12.jpg

Mission Impossible Squirrel

Friday, June 17, 2011

Inspring lyric of the day.

"We're young
we're free
we'll fight
you'll see!
We're not going to take it,
no we aint' gonna take it
we're not gonna take it
(ok, so I personally am not that young, but I'm more young than old, so I claim this song for all who are young or feel young)

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Coming later today Dark hallways

Concrete walls and banks of florescent lights have a specific kind of eerie glow.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

disaster from a distance part II the mailroom strikes back

Halloween is a time for otherwise rational and well-dressed people to dress like strippers or crazy people on acid. Sometimes both.Theresa rarely participated in any holiday activities, and her costume usually consisted of little more than adding an orange scarf. She was very professional in that way. Since I had to file everywhere, I chose a modest pirate costume consisting of normal work clothes and a scarf around my head.  Several other women wore low cut leotards and headbands with kitten or rabbit ears on them. I grabbed a danish from the break room when I noticed a sudden silence. The phones stopped and time stood still. Theresa walked in dressed in a sexy french maid's outfit, her ruffled underwear clearly visible under the skirt. One good thing about carrying a few extra pounds is that some of them are bound to go to the chest. I still don't know how she did it, but she was able to prop what must have been 40 E's up and straight out.
Matt wore a pair of Groucho Marx glasses but when  Theresa walked in with those gravity defying breasts, even he noticed her.

Friday, June 10, 2011

Zanzibar the Lightly Racist Cat a Chart

*melanin is a chemical that makes skin darker or lighter. By being able to detect this chemical, Zanz knows with precision the appropriate amount of racism required of him.

Sunday, June 5, 2011

Disaster from a Distance Part IV The Discovery Teaser

As my great aunt Selma used to say, "never put it in writing."  Aunt Selma could never have anticipated the advent of facebook or the careless use of  blogs to reveal even the dirty of laundry. . .

       That Tuesday, Matt was home taking care of his two boys who had caught the stomach flu. He was doing double duty since his wife Jen was gone staying with friends near school as she worked on her finals for her nurse anesthetist degree.  Theresa was left to her own devices on coffee break. for once, she looked almost vulnerable sipping her diet cola alone, when  Mrs. Johnson leaned across the table and tried to set Theresa up with a single nephew. When Theresa  declined, Mrs. Johnson asked her, "So why is a nice girl like you single?"  
        Like many single women, Theresa had answered the question and its variations with the stock answer of, "I choose to be," her tone changing in time from irritation, to suppressed hope, and finally, to grim certainty. And, after a saying it enough times and like many women, she convinced herself that it was true. To choose a life without romance is just as desirable as any grand  passion could ever be..                                                                       
Th  Theresa peered at little old Mrs. Johnson in her black polyester slacks and giggled, "It has its perks."  Theresa left for her lunch hour and didn't come back until Friday. The same woman who politely sneered when anyone missed a day as a moral failing, advising them to take a cold shower to invigorate the immune system, left for her lunch hour and didn't come back until Thursday. . . . . . . . . 
" "Had a great time  kayaking with  super-hottie Jason," the post read. As I looked down to find comments, I noticed that Matt's ever-present "like" to all of her postings was absent. In fact Matt's profile was absent, gone forever.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

New Haircut

After over 10 years of having hair halfway down my back and no bangs, I went to Melissa, an excellent hairstylist in Bothell, WA and got 5" cut with bangs. I really like it; it takes about 1/2 the time to style, and I'll save some big money on conditioner and styling products.  If I put it in a french twist and add my classes, I may even come across as a real grown-up. If I straightened it and dyed it blond, I could even qualify for the Millionare Matchmaker's version of what a desirable woman should look like. That said, I won't put the girls on display or wear short short skirts with 5" heels. That look isn't so attractive in a teacher. Pics of the new hair coming soon.

Makeup Recommendation

Though Urban Decay is often the favorite cosmetic line of hipsters and teenagers, I have to say that their PG-13 named "Dew Me" makeup setting spray is the bomb! Put on all makeup except for mascara, spray about three times on face and voila, makeup actually stays. So far, I've only tested it in rain and wind with temps only up to 70 degrees, so we'll see. For those of you in weddings, graduations, or other events, give it a try or the other urban decay setting sprays.


Sunday, May 15, 2011

Quote of the Week

"There must be some things that a hot bath and a good night's sleep can't cure, but I sure as hell don't want to find out what they are."
-Sylvia Plath 

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Great Song, Redheaded Singer

The Dating Pool Needs Draining


The fine men of internet dating


Number one: A 37 year white guy who works as a software developer (red flag right there), who was a dead-ringer for  a surprised Moe Howard. His headline read, "No fat chicks allowed." 
And you say chivalry is dead. His profile read like a 6th grader who got hold of a thesaurus for the first time and was filled with 50 cent words. Intelligence is attractive; malpropisms and arrogance, not so much. The absolute seriousness of the thing made me laugh and kind of cry. Then he wrote me this deep  and meaningful message, "UR sexy. Call me." 
Oh, I almost forgot, he wrote that he's only looking for one-night stands. Ahem. Next.

 santa photo:http//: www.johnwise.com
 Number two: A heavy bearded white guy in a Santa outfit smoking a cigar. I suppose it is hipster thing. His profile mostly talked about his particular hairdo which looks like Wolverine from X-Men. The resemblance stops there. My favorite line in his message though, "I'm an amateur photographer of nudes and you have a nice shape. Here's my number." Well, of course I phoned him right away.  Nothing is more enticing than an amateur pervert photog. His line sounds like a come on from a serial killer.

Number three: A 53 year unemployed old black man with a 1983 Jerri Curl posed in his photo with his shirt off and apparently smothered in Vaseline. His note to me read, "Hey pretty sexy lady. It's not what you can do for me, it's what I can do for you. Wink. I give great massages and I'm the best lover you'll ever meet." He reminded me of the Ladies Man from SNL, only not so innocuous.  My reaction? BLOCK

Number four: A 42 year old white guy sitting on a motorcycle with a Kaiser Wilhelm spiked helmet. He wrote that he had his own church but it wasn't like other churches. His note read, "I see that u believe in God, y not come to my church and meet my female disciples. Sleeping with me is one of the requirements to join. The women seem to like it; just ask them. Wink." Though he looked fairly normal, I couldn't help but think he was like the photo on the left.
Unfortunately, his note was the start of a disturbing trend.


Number Five: 
A 39 year old heavy set white guy with a beard. In his photo, he was holding his young daughter. His status read, "available," which I now understand to be code.
His note read, "I like your profile and I'd be interested in meeting you. I'm married, but my wife and I are poly. I know I'm probably not at all what you're looking for, but you are what I'm looking for."
At least he was honest. Still, I have to wonder what I ever said or wrote that made him think I'd even think about the whole poly thing. To each their own etc. It's just not my thing. Besides, I'm not that good at math and charts.


Number 6: A 37 year old white guy. He took his own photo holding a cell phone in a mirror. His profile stated that he was a writer and poet. Here's the note he wrote me, "UR pretty."  Literature isn't dead then. Phew, thank goodness for that. My reaction, nothing. Just a sad sigh.

 And, last but not least?

Number 7: A 67, (yes you read that right), year old white guy from right here in Woodinville. Yikes, I hope I never run into him at the store! His profile discussed all of his metaphysical and physical interests. Mostly, it was about his journey to sexual discovery by becoming bi-sexual in his 50s but still mostly liking women and women who were bi-sexual. He too was in the poly community but not married. TMI! His note to me read, "Hi, I LOVE redheads! I am much younger than my age and I have practiced tantric sex for 15 years now. You look like you enjoy a good time. Are you still fertile?"   BLOCK.

 Here's a poster I found that sums up my feelings on the matter. Read the whole thing before you judge me as a prude




Monday, May 9, 2011

Disaster from a Distance Part III


In the last chapter, the narrator suspected something odd was going on between her two co-workers Matt and Theresa. Was she right? Read Disaster From a Distance Part III to find out . . .

            That winter, the flu made its hacking viscous way through the office and entire departments were decimated for a few weeks. Theresa never missed a work day and the day after their department came back, she and Matt were conspicuously absent. When they returned to work the next day, they both looked rosy and giddy.
After Christmas break, I noticed a change in the way Theresa addressed him. Instead of just being friendly, (if a bit flirty,) she looked at him as if she could devour every muscle. It wasn't just her, when they spoke to each other during the ten minute coffee break, they would both glance around the room, conspirators in some scheme .  During lunch, she leaned over him, her ample bosom nearly in his face as she giggled. How she was able to lean, twirl her hair, bite her lip, giggle and keep her balance was a mystery.. As he got up to empty his tray, he picked up a napkin and looked at it for a few seconds before turning around to grin at her. I noticed that her gaze followed him, (well, his behind really.) Not a woman to succumb to flighty emotions, I had never seen her blush. That changed.
               In January, departments volunteered to make presentations. The prep work for the presentations was tedious and time consuming. Most of us just wanted the whole thing to be over with. Even if a work partner was a friend, there was an unspoken rule that work was not to be taken home and neither was a work partner. As I filled in my name, I noticed that the sign-up sheet was still fairly blank. As I signed my name and hoped that I would be paired with someone of reasonable intelligence and character, I noticed one slot already filled. There, in her  bubbly rounded script were both of their names.  She had not left the pairing to chance then.They would have to spend time together now.As they walked in together, Theresa talked to Matt about his lawn care problems and exchanged recipes.
"that chicken curry was good. I bet your boys liked it too."
He responded, "Good thing I didn't tell Patty that you made it right? " and then laughed.
 Working late one evening that week, I walked out to my car, relieved to breathe fresh air instead of the stale and microwave popcorn-scented atmosphere of the office.  Except for the security van and one station wagon, my car was the only one in the lot. I pushed the unlock button and my car made a brief beep. Across the lot, I saw the station wagon’s lights suddenly flicker on and two figures bolted upright. One was sturdy, dark haired and tall, the other slender and blond, with his hair sticking out at crazy angles. I willed myself to become invisible out of embarrassment, and I still don’t know if they saw me.
Later that week, the presentations commenced and the office staff sat back and watched as others gave their endless Power Points.Everyone tried to avoid being dull, but it was unavoidable.  Matt walked in the conference room polished with a perfectly pressed white shirt, gold watchband suit. This was a departure from his usual khaki pants and joke ties. Theresa followed suit and wore pink lip-gloss, and a low cut sheath dress and fitted jacket. Her high heels clicked as she walked in and her usually lank hair bounced with hot roller curls.Gone were  her trademark glasses, cross jewelry, and disdainful expression. She looked pretty.  As she walked in, Matt’s face changed visibly. It was as though he suddenly noticed that she was a woman rather than just a co-worker. Still, I had never seen any two people as engrossed in the perplexities of data filing as Matt and Theresa seemed to be. The enthusiasm was rare for her, and as she spoke, she seemed almost giddy. She beamed at him and  twiredl her hair around her forefinger.
Theresa started the presentation by saying, “This project is our baby. We’ve put so much work into this I hope you all like it.” This attitude presented a real departure from her usual presentations which were professional if a bit dry and she usually didn’t care what anyone except the boss thought about her work.
     What followed can only be described as PG foreplay. As Theresa clicked the Power Point slides, Matt, usually a quiet man, gave the lecture. Occasionally, they would interrupt each other followed by,
“You go,” she said brushing his shoulder with her finger.
“No you go,” as he looked at her bust.
“No you,” followed by a playful tap on the arm and giggle.
When they finally finished, they looked about ready to jump each other  Instead, they asked for questions. Jenn, a petite blond, mother of three from accounting raised her hand,
“Matt, what do you think the projected risk will be for this idea?”
Before Matt could respond, Theresa shot Jenn a look of pure vitriol,
“There is no risk here. It is a perfectly safe and well-thought out plan. What do you mean by risk?” She hissed, her usual wall of control broken down  like a thin cardboard box.
“Umm,” Jenn replied, utterly perplexed.
“What Theresa is saying is that it is not any more risky than anything else,” Matt replied as he walked over to Theresa and lightly set his hand on your shoulder.     
Theresa melted under his touch. The room was warm and stuffy the  sleepy crowd was simultaneously alert and confused. The air was warm and filled with unfulfilled longing and people began to squirm like kindergartners before recess.
I glanced at Denise, the only other person with whom I had aired my suspicions. She raised her eyebrows subtly. It was not just my imagination then; something illicit was happening. Whether or not Matt and Theresa admitted it to themselves at that point was up for debate.                                                                   
         Later that week, the perennial ice and snow storm hit the Seattle area. The snow came down heavily and people left work early to avoid getting stuck or stranded in the office. I could see people hurrying out the door, each in a mild state of panic.They talked about getting their kids home safely and snow tires. Theresa and Matt, however were both at their respective desks. As I had no kids and lived fairly close to the office, I volunteered to stay for an extra hour. As I filed, I heard someone walk up behind me; it was Theresa and a few feet behind her, I saw Matt looking nervously around.
"Why don't you head on home Maryanne," she saidi with an oddly friendly tone. She had spoken to me exactly two times in four years and honestly, I didn't think she even knew my name.
"That's ok, " I answered, "I can walk home if I need to."
Her mouth tensed for a second into a grimace and went back to work.I heard the two of them whispering and a few minutes later Matt approached me."Hey, it's getting pretty late and I wouldn't feel right keeping you here."
I decided to test a theory I was contemplating and responded,"Matt, why don't you head home, I'm sure your  boys and wife want to see you."
He sighed and I noticed a palpable tension building in the room. I wondered just how far they were willing to stretch the limits of propriety in order to be alone together. The radio announced power outages and I finally pulled on my snow boots and wrapped a scarf around my neck.
I heard them both sigh in relief as they responded in a forced casualness.
"Ok then, thanks, seeyou later, be safe."
When I got to the parking lot, I looked up at the office window.  All I could see were a tangle of legs and arms.The next day, I am pretty sure they both were still wearing the same clothes from the day before and a guilty look of satisfaction. Theresa traipsed around the office, humming  to herself, pausing only to smile. Matt left during lunch and came back wearing another shirt.
After that, I noticed Theresa returned to her usual gray trousers and white button up shirt. Her hair was still lank and her glasses were back They ate lunch apart and I never saw them talk at work. It seemed that the whole thing was either my imagination or that it had come to an abrupt halt. 
 I was wrong, on both counts.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Single Men 30-40 in the Seattle Area

by me,

I am sure there are many nice single guys my age who are great relationship material. I just haven't met them yet.

Single Woman's Prayer

Dear Lord,
Please help me to have good judgment
To be able to spot the right man
and the wrong man from miles away
Give me the courage to be proud and single
instead of apologetic
Comfort me when I am lonely
and help me to be pithy and polite
when responding to rude questions
from "well-meaning," people
Teach me how to be happy
and satisfied with my independence
Grant me the courage to go places alone
without a book or pretending to text
Help me to find solace in solitude,
and to understand with you, I am never totally alone.
Give me the strength and patience to wait for a good man
or to accept that I do not get one at all
And help me to understand that a single life
is not the same as a life devoid of love
Remind me that it's always better to be single
than to be miserable and married
That said, Lord,
If you have a man
who would be good to and for
and I for him
Let me know
If you approve,
please send him my way
The sooner the better
For I have some jars I cannot open.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Tenacious K

Quote from Tom Petty an the Heartbreakers.
"No I won't back down.
Won't be turned around
You can stand me up
against the gates of hell
but I'll
stand my ground
and I
wont back down"

Friday, April 22, 2011

Yes, there are stupid questions

 I tried to take microeconomics in undergrad, but I was so utterly lost, I dropped it after three classes. Seventeen years have passed since I’ve taken any kind of math class; the dang thing pops up again for my endorsement in social studies.

The questions are probably logical, but to me, they look like this:

 Section Twenty-Eight:  Logic
Elevator 1 is blue and on Mondays stops at every floor that is a prime number unless it is a leap year. Then it stops at all floors divisible by seven. Elevator 2 is light blue and on every third Thursday and it only stops on all floors except 13. Elevator 3 is invisible to anyone with the letter L in their last name.
Question 1

 It is new years day, what elevator do you take to get to the mezzanine? 
Show your work
A). 42
B.) Neither C or D
C. It can't run on New Year's Day!

Question 2: If Sally's dog little Sally is seven times older than Sally in dog years and Sally's brother Saul is three times older than the cat; Sally, little Sally, and Saul's friend Sam is 2 minutes younger than Saul. What is Sally's Chinese astrological sign? 
A.) Virgo
B.) Year of the ice weasel
C.) The light blue elevator

Question 3 Interpret the graphic below.
Assume that every color in the above graphic is the opposite of its color as seen here. List every color as its numerical quotient on a graph. Show your work using matrices.
A.)Cup of Wands
B. Sustainability literacy
C.) Underpants

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Olfactory Invasion

The problem 
I like perfume in small doses. My theory is that perfume is meant to be enjoyed and people who choose to be within six inches from you. Yesterday I was at an office and as I walked down the hall, this overwhelming cloud of some crappy perfume like Britney Spears or J Lo, (something by a celebrity,) overpowered me like tear gas. Men are guilty of this crime as well. 
Celebrity gems like Trump and Usher colognes can be found at Macys and even Nordstrom. (Because the average man deserves to smell like Vaseline, twenty dollar bills, and Aqua Net!)   I have an idea for a new perfume; it is made up of pure bus fumes and is called Metro. 
The subtleties of scent
My theory on perfumes is that if you could eat whatever the scents are, it is probably not too bad. (Vanilla, oranges etc.)  Most colognes and perfumes are really just chemical weapons. I can picture vast armies with gas masks spraying themselves with Poison or Drakkon Noire before loading drums of Britney’s Fantasy and Fergie's Glamorous into tanks. It would devastate and humiliate the enemy while simultaneously acting as a slightly milder version of tear gas.
Men's body sprays such as the infamous Axe have tried to appeal to men through the subtle images of packs or bikini-clad women chasing Axe- wearing men, then jumping them in nymphomaniacal glee. When I run into these guys, they come in two breeds. 1) The Jersey Shore alike: He uses more gel on his hair than I do in a week, wears tight t-shirts, and, probably wears more jewelry than an East Indian bride. Type 2 - Does not believe in showers or baths and covers up this fact by applying body spray from a twenty gallon tank with a hose. Once, I was in the hospital and an orderly started talking to me. He was covered with Axe body spray and smelled like ammonia, gum, and cigarettes. He wondered why the hospital had taken him off of ICU. Sure people there already had trouble breathing, but surely Axe body spray made them happier than oxygen right?

 The solution
I found the sign at the top of the post on Google images that sums up my feelings.
The good people at the Minneapolis airport declared a ban on Axe. I love the women running away in terror. 
How does a polite person approach the chronically overscented? Can you just politely say, “ Excuse me, you smell like a French whorehouse.” Would it be impolite to douse them a fire extinguisher filled unscented Dr. Bronner’s soap and plain water?  I urge the scientific community to create at least one of the following:                              
1.      A bubble that would keep out offensive scents or 
2. An objective scent-o-meter alarm that would wail loudly if an offender was over the limit. Heck, it’s worth a try. If robot dishwashers and spray on tans exist, then certainly we can do this. 
Sensory Comparison
Let’s compare this olfactory invasion to other sensory issues. Would you yell in a person's ear each time you wanted to talk, or if you were showing off your new bracelet, would you shove it up the person's eyeball?  I posit that perfume overdose is still allowed because commenting on something as personal as someone’s scent is a very touch subject.  We think that perfume is a subjective thing and maybe it just isn’t our style. Yet, I would wager that if you are bothered by someone’s headiness, so are your coworkers (except that one lady in finance who has no sense of smell of course.)  It is like walking in an entirely different atmosphere.
Some workplaces and schools have made rules against perfumes in certain buildings. The building where I take my classes has instituted a scent ban. Right next to the sign in the bathroom that says, "Please do not wear scents as people in this building are sensitive to them," are bottles of cranberry spice and pine air freshener.
We've all been out on dates with someone who is perfumed from head to toe and has layered every single product so when the relief of one layer wearing off hits, the next one will kick in just as strong. When in doubt, I say just use a lightly scented or unscented soap, wear deodorant, and clean clothes. However, some dryer sheets smell like grape Kool-aid and stale pork chops, so choose wisely.

Who wants to smell like elephant dung, greasepaint, and sadness ?
Therefore, I declare a call to action.  I know that scent is subjective and any given perfume's popularity waxes and wanes with popular culture. For all those hipsters out there who want to ironically wear Old Spice or Drakkon Noire, Bijon, or Demeter's Funeral Home, remember that anaphylaxis is neither stylish nor ironic. Many perfumes have crazy notes like vanilla, verteviert, varnish, or lime, leather, and Lysol. I also have to note the new scent by Britney Spears (who I like actually,) which is called Circus. So it smells like elephant dung, grease paint, and disappointment? No thanks

Keep it simple and wear small amounts of one note scents like citrus, fruit, lavender, or if you like woodsy, sandalwood. T

Now, in the spirit of Jeff Foxworthy, 
You're wearing too much scent if
-You get on an elevator and everyone holds their collective breath.
-The pink cloud of scent that encompasses you starts to peel paint.

-When you walk by, plants die.

-All food tastes like your rubbing alchohol. So does everybody's within a 30 foot radius.

 -Passengers in your carpool roll down the windows. And stick their heads out. In January

-Everyone you talk to has asthma attacks or watery eyes.
- The tiny hairs in your nose have dissolved

Do not try at home or anywhere else
- Your cat has become so saturated with your perfume that it refuses to groom itself to avoid burning its taste buds.


Austen girl perfume spray http://ipkitten.blogspot.com/2007/08/jolie-drops-perfume-opposition-baby.html Britney Spears Circus: http://free.bridal-shower-themes.com/britney-spears-circus-perfume  Dead Plants:  http://www.kenlauher.com/ask-ken/?Tag=Feng%20Shui%20Plants
Minneapolis Airport: http://www.jaunted.com/story/2009/3/27/125833/277/trave /Say+It,+Don%27t+Spray+It%3A+Axe+Body+Spray+Not+Welcome+in+Minneapolis
Sierra Club Carpool: http://www.sierraclubyosemitetrip.com/car_pool_list Tom Ford Cologne: http://senseslost.com/2007/12/03/tom-ford-for-men/
Trump Cologne:  http://www.yournewfragrance.com/v/mens.html

I want it my way!

Image:  http://oldcatman-xxx.blogspot.com/2010/05/wendys-zap-your-ass.html 
A Florida woman zapped an employee with a Hello Kitty tazer. The woman claimed that her order was wrong.  I guess the Wendy's motto, "You know when it's real." Makes sense here. I wonder if the worker laughed when she saw the pink device and then ZAP! Now that's real!
This recession has hit everyone hard and maybe Sanrio needed to branch out from school supplies, candy and t-shirts, to include a weapons division. I want to see the Hello Kitty AK-47 or grenade launcher. It may just be cute enough for me to consider buying a gun.

The kind of guy who probably is on the waiting list for one of these pretty pink weapons
This guy

Sources:  M Kotz, P, 2010. Melanese Asia Reid Busts Out Tazer on Wendy's Worker Who Botched Her Order. True Crime Report.com. http://www.truecrimereport.com/
Image:  http://oldcatman-xxx.blogspot.com/2010/05/wendys-zap-your-ass.html  
Emo Kitty guy: http://www.hahastop.com/pictures/Sad_Emo_Kitty.htm


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Saturday, April 16, 2011

Male Substitution Chart

Have you ever been stuck in a situation and you did not know what to do? Did you think to yourself that it would have been easier with a man around? No need; now presenting the Male Substitution Chart. If you find yourself in one of these situations, just look to the right for a simple solution. If you can substitute sugar with honey in some recipes, why not substitute for a man in daily life?

Single Woman's Handy  Male Substitution Chart


Problem                                 Substitution
Scary Spider                                                      Bug stick    
in the bathtub    

Cold winter nights                                              Electric blanket          

Choking on peanut butter                                   Hemlich yourself 
when alone                                                        on the back of a 
Jar lid is stuck                                                    Electric jar 


Lack of male, "company"                                   Discrete battery  
                                                                         operated device.


Horrible late night silence                                    Noise machine set to spring rain or ocean.  (note
                                                                          that the settings do not include: adenoids, choke-
                                                                          snore, or noisy nose whistling. )Be glad for that.

Someone to come home to                              1. Rarely go home 2. Buy a pet cat or dog  3. Create a       
                                                                       charming imaginary spouse who exists only between 6 and 
                                                                       6:01 PM on weeknights.

Can't reach the highest shelf                            Step stool and grabber device 

Flat tire or locked out                                     Membership to AAA and the number of 
                                                                      two 24-hr.   locksmiths

bug vacuum, doesn't harm bugs and you can put them outside.

Cost of these items: about $300
Cost of a messy breakup or divorce: Substantially more ... and then there's the money.