Scents and sensibility

The nose is a very impressive part of our body says me, the person with no medical degree. Smells trigger everything for me. Curve for women reminds me of 7th grade, Lovespell from Victoria's Secret reminds me of senior year of high school and then Pink Sugar reminds me of my friend Erin. Maybe because she had 75 perfumes, all of which smelled like sugar in a bottle! You name it, the girl had it!

Anyway, what about the smells that remind you of your past relationships/people? For some reason, if I catch a whiff of a past smell, it can send me into major hurl mode. Just to make sure I wasn't the only who thought this, I asked a coworker and she agreed. She said it can bring back all memories, good or bad. Good point, Mo!

The BF bought body wash and it's one of those smells. OMG! It's such an overpowering scent mixed with a metal-ish scent and freshness. (Bad description, I know.) I nearly puked when I smelled the bottle and need to replace it ASAP. Like tonight. Because the BF refuses to shower in his bathroom because the shower supposedly leaks, he showers in mine with the horrific smelling body wash. Then, when I get in the shower, I smell it again. Blah.

So, what smells remind you of past relationships/people? Coolwater, Curve, Lacoste, Burberry?

One bucket

For some odd reason, the BF really wanted to take me to the driving range this week. I've never had a real desire to go because a)you can't talk a lot, b) you can't really yell "FOUR" like they do in the movies, and c) you must have patience for the art of golf. All of which are qualities that I don't posess. But, for the sake of trying new things, I ventured to the greens with him to spend some QT and let him try and teach me the game of golf.

(Editor's note: We don't do work out activities together. I can't work out with him. If we go for a nice walk in the metroparks, he tries to push me over the edge of the cliff. Not funny. I don't like working out with people in general so it's no exception with him.)

Anyway, back to our golfing trip. We attempted to go the day before but because the BF knew all things golf, he forgot to call them and ask if they'd be mowing. Because if he did call and ask, he would've been told that they were mowing the driving range that evening.

All in all, I don't think I'm that terrible of a golfer. I don't know if my spastic movements are right for golf - I have a lot of energy. But, maybe if you give me more lessons (like 35) and I think I could become pretty competitive.

This is rough:


Here's where I start to get a bit better.


I only lasted one bucket of balls.

Give it to me

The BF is way more responsible than I am when it comes to spending money on frivolous things. I feel that it's built into a woman's DNA to spend oodles of money on make up, shoes and those designer purses. (Or maybe it's just mine.) When I see the half-yearly sale or pass a Coach outlet, I can't help but find an amazing deal. Just a month ago, I found this Coach bag from earlier this season at 60 percent off. (Actually, I can't find this year's one but it looks similar - only slightly brighter.) I basically stole it!

However, since I'm making a conscience effort to pay down my credit cards, I've only been allowing myself certain cash only splurges. That summer bag being one of them this season. I've really made an effort to purchase everything on sale and with this slumping economy, it's definitely helping my closet out. Thanks, Mr. President!

Last week, I signed up for the best and worst e-mail - Shop it to me. I finally have my own little online personal shopper - free of charge. I was able to pick between which brands, all of course had to do with something designer, and I receive e-mail updates with all my sale items. I'm talking Michael Kors, BCBG, French Connection, Kate Spade and Nine West - my fave all time shoes because a 9.5 fits me every time. I've already received four e-mails since Friday and I've only peeked because I'm supposed to be saving money! Damn, why do I get myself into this!

Real world meet up

If it weren't for Alexa, none of us (semi famous) peeps would've gotten together Saturday night. That means, there wouldn't have been any meeting Everest, talking with the Chef or his Widow, stuffing ourselves full of pizza, fries and some apps/desserts compliments of the chef, causing a scene with the young girls from the PD, laughing hysterically over relationship stories, or meeting Nom and friends on the rooftop for cornhole and beer drinking. Taawd and Mel - you missed the amazing impromptu flip cup game that happened.

Here's what I've learned after meeting these bloggers/ now real world friends -
-Mel will never cut her hair again.
-You can't see inside Tawwd's place from Route 2 (although I think he wants us too)
-We all agreed that we are now more than ever obsessed with Bar Cento, the atmosphere, the food and Magic Hat #9
-The BF shared his love for Abby Ham over and over. This is a whole other post in itself.
-Alexa wants a 8x10 signed glossy of Carl Monday
-Yes, I was embarrassed when he told the PD girls we are semi-famous (We aren't! OK, maybe Mel is. Yes, hello - she was in the 25th anniversary of Cleveland magazine! That is major.)

And yes, I will hang out with each and everyone you again!

***And, we also met out Suzanne of Life on Mars.

Keep it in the pants

Let me first start out by saying, Mr. Edwards, I thought you were intelligent. Really. But, like most other d-bags, you cheated on your wife - idiot! Hello - you are really famous. This stuff sells newspapers! Did you really not think it was going to get out?

From this article:
"I am responsible for it. I alone am responsible for it," Edwards said on ABC News "Nightline.

No shit, Enstein. No shit. Although I'm sure the chick with the badly bleached hair had something to do with it, too.

Well, what we have learned here. Let's try to do the opposite that politicians have done this past year and find another vice of sorts. Yes, Mr. Spitzer, that means you too.

What about hair twirling? That doesn't seem to hurt anyone or be controversial. Then again, Edwards does pay $400 for hair cuts, right?

Can I buy you a drink?

Boys like to be hit on just as much as girls. Yep, that's right. You all act like you love going to up to girls, making the first move, starting the casual conversation and wasting valuable dollars on martinis that she'll drink and walk right away from you. HA! But, you also enjoy when the tables are flipped and the girls approach you. Example: The BF was hit on by a girl at bar last night. After a company softball game, everyone heads to a bar in Tremont with drink and food specials, plus an awesome patio with cornhole. Anyway, this morning he decides to tell me the story and gloat about his victory.

"OH, and I didn't even tell you what happened last night?
Me: What?
BF: I got hit on. (very proud by this acheivement)
Me: By a girl?
BF: Yep, and I still got it.

Editor's note: After men have been in a serious relationship, they must feel that they don't "have it" anymore. Why would you think you would lose "it?" You had it in the first place, you landed a girlfriend, so you obviously still "have it." You don't lose it just because you have been monogamous with the same girl. I get it

Me: You still got it?
BF: Oh yeah. They still flock to me.
Me: Ignoring his obvious glory he wants me to acknowledge, She really hit on you?
BF: Yep.
Me: Did you get her number?
BF: Uh, no, I know better than that.
Me: So. You gave her your number.
BF: No, idiot. But she had her phone sitting on the bar the whole time just waiting for me to give it to her. She asked if I had a girlfriend right away.
Me: Wow. She cut right to the chase.
BF: Then she asked if it was serious.


I surveyed a few guys to ask their opinions and they feel the same way - they love it. One even said, "Girls are used to being hit on all the time. It's a new thing for guys - and we love it."

Golden Girls

I can't tell you how much I love little old ladies. They just tell you like it is. They all, I swear, have this uncanny ability of getting exactly what they want without really asking for it but throw in a bit of flattery to make it worth your while. Case in point - our trip to East Coast Custard yesterday evening.

The BF and I sit down outside next to these lovely white-haired older ladies and both comment on our delicious our ice cream looks. Picture Sophia and Rose from Golden Girls.

Old lady: Oh, Doris, doesn't their ice cream just look delicious?
Old lady's friend: Oh yes, it looks great. What did you get?
Me: Chocolate chip custard with almonds.
Old Lady: Oh my. That is what I want. I hope that's what Connie is getting me.
Old lady's friend: Oh, I hope she does, too. That is just what I want to order.
Me: Did you order this?
Old lady: No, I told her to surprise me. I hope she gets me that but you never know with Connie. I hardly get up here without someone taking me. I do love this place, don't you?

Thinking at this point that this lady wants me to get off my ass and go to whoever Connie is to get that ice cream. I look inside and notice the long line.

Me: She probably didn't order yet. Do you want me to tell Connnie to get you this?
Old lady: Oh. No. Don't worry about it. I'm sure she'll surprise me with something scrumptious.
Me: Are you sure? I can. Who is she and what's her name?
Old lady: Her name is Connie, reddish hair and with a good-looking fellow in glasses.

She totally got me. So, I did my great Samataitan deal, went inside and found Connie who looked at me with those "Who the F are you eyes" and she ordered her mother the ice cream.

With the whole 57 seconds it took to find Connie, those two old ladies already interrogated the BF with how long we've dated, are we married and where do we live. I walk out just as the woman says to me, "I told him it's about time you two get married. You are a fine looking couple." The old woman's friend says, "Oh yes, one fine looking couple. It's about time."

There you have it.