Thursday, September 4, 2008


Which means nothing.

I just kinda liked the word and thought it would look cool popping up over there on the right with the other blogtitles.

Here's what I have for you today:

Like that's news.

[SUMMARY: And the grapes would be sour anyway.]

It's probably largely due to my complete lack of clarity. Two things everybody should know:

  1. Secret Pal sent me enough roll-on patchouli to glaze the streets of Denver and keep the hippies happy... and keep me in a state of half-lidded sexual limbo for weeks. Thank you, Secret Pal! I'll be getting more batteries on my lunch hour!

  2. The next Vampirates sweater will not be for Tallest, Hairiest Nephew's brother... it will be for Brother. Capital B. As in my brother. As in 6'2" and I wish he'd stop working out so I wasn't contemplating a township of black stockinette.§ That's why I need your support for the idea I can finish it in four months.

See? If I just took the marbles out of my mouth, y'all would know what I was talking about.

[SUMMARY: You get what you pay for.]

I'm sure my blogvalue will drop like a Pinto's transmission when the blogiverse gets word that Hans isn't here today.#
Indonesian Patchouli - Yakshi (oil - from Secret Pal)

Marin says: Proving that, like roses,†† different patchoulis have different scents. I'm loving the idea of discovering new concepts out of old ideas.

This version educates me in notes I'd only vaguely noticed and never really put a name to before: licorice, bitter chocolate, benzene.

Usually, patchouli has an black soil base with an overlay of twigs and leaves and tiny, white flowers. This has nothing botanical that I can suss out. It's deeper, rounder and blackter than usual,‡‡ and the scent clings tightly to my wrist... I can't smell it when I'm typing, but the scent doesn't fade even after hours of wear, which makes it kind of personal.

Yakshi says: Indonesian Patchouli finds its strength from the islands of Indonesia. Imagine the heavy, distinct scent wrapping you in a fragrance reminiscent of an exotic Balinese dancer. Fabulous fingers of fragrance evoking a strong, irresistible scent.

Hans says: *cricketcricketcricket*

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Unless you read it as "lack-o-motivation," in which case you'd be on the right track. Heh. Track... trains... locomotive... sorry.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because it is better to look good than to write good, darling.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Not that there's anybody I'd rather knit acreage in stockinette for.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Particularly given that I haven't been able to get two teeny-tiny little Arrrgyle socks done in nearly two years.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Funny Hans story: He just called to ask me to look up a couple of wells for him, as he wasn't finding the information he was hoping for at the county courthouse in beautiful downtown Lusk. Turns out the boss sent him to the wrong county. Now Hans has to drag his sweet ass (his words) to even beautifuller Douglas, Wyoming, where the wells actually live.

If I get to Reno next week and find I was supposed to be in Honolulu...

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Speaking of roses, I am currently reading The Emeperor of Scent by Chandler Burr, and there is a footnote in the book (yay, footnotes!) that every variety of rose has a distinct scent all its own.

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