Thursday, April 14, 2005

The nose knows. Or, as Emily says, the noooooooooooose!!!!

I am super cool. Let me tell you why. Yesterday, Caroline, Em, and I all scampered off to this perfumery in Boston where one can make their own perfume. First of all, this lended itself to a chance to visit Store 24, which I haven't done in quite a while. In fact, since it closed down my freshman year in the Square. I miss Store 24. It had a certain sketchiness to it that made me look really normal. And I always enjoyed seeing errant rats scurrying quickly out of the light and back into their home amongst the bags of chips. After I told Gamze that freshman year, she refused to go in there. Gamze also tried to convince me that the rats in Turkey have anesthesizing breath and that they wait until you're sleep, then chew off your nose and stuff at night. But since you can't feel it, you don't know until morning. Like leprosy, only better.

Anyway, I digress. Caroline read a magazine that claimed that the man who owns the store is a "nose". That is to say, he can smell you and then know what perfume you should be wearing. I personally think that he can smell you and know what perfume you ARE wearing, but he wasn't there so we'll never know. Instead, we were serviced by his son, a nose in training (is that hyphenated??). Using my powers of good, I created my ultimate perfume. It smells soooooooooo good. Like crack, but it's not a $100 a day habit. Of course, I could be wrong since, honestly, I don't know how much crack costs. But I'm sure that some of the people reading this do, so they can add their 2 cents any time they feel like it. I basically chose about 6 scents that are in every single perfume that I have ever loved, then added some more "spicy" elements since I always end up wearing what they term "oriental" fragrances. I'm in love with my new perfume and it wasn't even any more expensive than normal perfumes despite the fact that, yet again, I managed to choose the most expensive notes in the store. My mother would be so proud. And it smells hella better! And it lasts all day!

On a similar note, last night I was eating dinner with my crew and Caroline mentions "Hmmm... fried onions. It smells like..... sex." That is gross. Fred didn't want to sit next to her after that although it didn't appear that her boyfriend was bothered by the insinuation. All I know is that I am hella never staying over at her place again. Who KNOWS what goes on there. Last night was also good just because of the Fredly time. His sissy couldn't be there, which is a shame since I don't see Steph that much anymore (or not as much as I'd like since she lives, like, 20 miuntes away). Fred and I managed to properly traumatize Oliver in under 10 minutes, so I was happy. My Freddums is someone I miss dearly from college. I miss all of my good friends a hella amount, but I seem to talk to some of them more often on the phone and he's hard to get ahold of since he's in Cambridge, England. Kind of like how G is hard to get ahold of, but I talked to her online for an hour yesterday, so all is well right now. She was in AMSTERDAM on business. Home o' whores and marijuana. Oh, Amsterdam.

Anywomb, my crazy meds ran out on Monday, so my body is going into withdrawel. So much so that I didn't feel at liberty to work out this morning despite waking up at 6:30 am. Somehow, lifting weights and jogging on a treadmill when you are really dizzy just doesn't seem like a good idea. This is why I argued with my doctor last summer to take me the hell off of the stuff since I forget to refill it often enough that it's a problem. Em and I decided yesterday that I'm a giant pushover, and that's why she won the argument. Dammit. Ironically, what it's supposed to do is just make me marginally more apt to get up and go, which was a problem junior year of college. When I stop taking it for several days, I feel no difference in my desire to greet the world. The only difference is that I'm insanely dizzy and can't read for too long or I have to lie down. And I get to wait until my parents get back from a trip since I am still awaiting health coverage and don't want to pay around $150 for a prescription. So, uh, Beck, if you're reading this and feel like express mailing me the stuff tomorrow, I can call the pharmacy and set it up. I'm going to die.

Also, my brover sent me this link: http://www.ifilm.com/WMPPlaylist.asx?ifilmId=2667017&bandwidth=300. I don't know if it's my intense love of Mr. T or for my own mother, but this is an amazing video.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

your ass is mine, triple h! roar!

Anonymous said...

all i know is that jack bauer would make the best nose ever because he can sniff out fear. if he were on "gone without a trace", he would be able to solve every disappearance with one nostril tied behind his back.

but i guess having a nose for perfume is kind of useful, too.

Anonymous said...

sass will not be tolerated on this blog.

Anonymous said...

nor will tomfoolery. oh, it's on.

Anonymous said...

i will bamboozle you. no one crosses batista!

Anonymous said...

bring your wrestling posse to the gas station parking lot tomorrow at midnight. kitty and i will take you down!

Anonymous said...

richard, you are too much the alpha male for me to compete with you. i stand in awe of your masculinity. however, i will still eat kitty to get my daily intake of proteins.

Anonymous said...

feed kitty some whey proteins first, for i hear that they will double her protein value.

Anonymous said...

this repartee is making me sweepy. batista needs his beauty rest. i shall resume my witty banter on the morrow.

Anonymous said...

kitty and i are embarking on a late-night strategy session. until we meet again, batista, until we meet again...

Amy Barr said...

In other news, nose-in-training is indeed hyphenated.

Cheerio!

Emily said...

In other other news... the nooooooooooooooooooooooooose!!! (I could not stave off the temptation to write it any longer.)

Anonymous said...

I wish sex smelled like fried onions, cause let me tell you it doesn't.

Emily said...

...

and scene.