(no subject)

 We've lived in this house a bit over a decade, and we're planning on leaving it in the not too too distant future.  And I feel like I should have done more while we were hear, made the house something that fit more with the life I want, but I'm downright pathological about spending money most of the time.  (The rest of the time I'm spending my feelings, but fortunately my feelings are usually satisfied by socks, perfume and Colourpop.  And I've almost entirely stopped wearing perfume, since I felt bad exposing Spark, Delight and the world at general to my desire to smell pretty at their expense.  I know that all my products still add up to a scent, but it's a little less egregious than actual perfume.)

 

I realize I can't keep a journal for sixteen years (18 if you count the abandoned lj under another name) without both repeating and contradicting myself over and over again, but I still worry about both of them.   But I really, really liked smelling pretty.  Again, not complaining about scent sensitiiviies, just....many years ago, about six months after I quit smoking, I kissed a smoker and it was a little bit like what I imagine licking an exhaust pipe would be.  And I realized that I could smell nice again.

 

I'd had a perfume I used while I was smoking, l'artisan's premier figuer.   I don't remember when I fixated on figs as a scent, but it's been as long as I can remember, though before perfume it was scented candles and one ill advised incense.   And then, when the internet was blowing up about BPAL and absolutely nothing ever seemed to work with my skin (eventually I figured out that a lot of florals go baby powder on my skin and amber smells like playdough to me possibly on me as well) and someone said Ava Luxe was BPAL for drag queens. and I fell in love with their scent Milk. 

 

I wrung my hands a couple times over the years because the scents I am drawn to are more kitchen oriented then sexy, and Milk was no exception.  Not quite as bad as the body shop vanilla oil I wore for much of the early 90s, like ever other self-respecting alanis morrissette devotee.  (not that the two are connected, but I realize how much I occupied a certain niche in the greater cultural tableau, despite being an unremarkable outsider in my hometown.

 

But Abundance hates Milk (the perfume, not the substance) and I went through a handful of possets and haus of gloi trying to find something that felt like me.  I almost ended up with something called Nomnomnom, which smelled like brown sugar and baking spices, but it wasn't the same sort of signature feeling.   I eventually mostly settled on Arcana's Pumpkins Crave Honey, but I don't even wear much of that any more.  

 

So that whole perfume tangent was all basically parenthetical to spending my feelings.  

 

as we gear up to eventually leave this house, I'm thinking about all the things I never changed to suit me better.  My kitchen is weirdly large with no storage space and no dishwasher, and I'm slowly ceding multiple cupboards to just staying unorganized (there's the shame cupboard, the wild west that is the pan cupboard and the trap straight from an indiana jones movie that is now my tupperware cupboard.  Which none of it is actually tupperware and now that I'm thinking about it I forget what else the reused take out containers can be called.  Plastic?  Oh god, now I'm forgetting words.  Bedtime.