Prattle on
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
 

So, this morning I lay in bed conflicted. I had these two competing drives. I wanted to keep sleeping but I was also really excited to pull on the new jeans I bought yesterday. I like them. They are black and it has been years since I have bought a pair of black jeans. Mainly because when I see black jeans they make me think of two things. I either think of rockers in the 80’s and 90’s or I think about my aunt who, while a lovely person, always wears black jeans because they are slimming. She often goes for the mom-cut and then wears it with a purple turtleneck tucked in and some sort of black or African print vest with matching jewelry. You can understand why I would be hasty when it comes to buying a pair of black jeans.

Anyway, obviously I decided to go and get up and come to work and now every minute that passes I wonder why I came. I’m lacking desire to be here, but that is ok, I have come to terms with it and I am leaving in 15 minutes anyway. OK, my managing editor just handed me a beer, so I will be here for at least 20 minutes.

Later tonight I have to go to the health food/hippie store near my house. That cardamom scented palace* just happens to sell the Burt’s Bees product line cheaper than the Pharmaprix and it is right close to my apartment. After I fight my way past blonde women with dred locks and parachute pants, sundry other tam-tam attending hippies and a collection of hipster/yuppies (or ‘huppies’ or ‘yupetrs’as I like to call them) I have to try to return a Burt’s Bees cream I bought yesterday. While the cream is rich and luxurious for sure, it also has this smell. At first it smells like honey, which I love. Then, as it absorbs in your skin, it smells like a small chlorine spill in a public restroom (yes it is the product in the picture). Why did they put this product on the market? I have to change it and go with something a bit more traditional.

The scent of my body cream is especially important. You see, on Friday I have plans to travel home to Toronto for the weekend. That isn’t a big deal. The big deal is how I may be getting there. I may well get a drive with, I hope you are securely seated, my capoeira instructor. There will be others on the car, but I need to look cute and smell great. This isn’t a done deal. I have to convince him that I would be the best car passenger ever. I will get final word on Wednesday or Thursday. Right now, all I can do is hope! Well, hope and plan my hair.


*There must be a law or custom that forces health product and organic food locations to smell like cardamom and various other “exotic” spices. If anyone knows why this is, please place a comment in the dedicated section.
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