After working until the wee hours of the morn (3am to be exact) and having the fruits of my blog labor vanish into thin air, here I am with my back spasms sitting in this godforsaken chair again. Just had so many fun addictions to share, that it's hard for me to let go until I can write about them. Addictions run in the family, and I'm always happy to sift through mine and give thanks to the universe for allowing mine to be -in most cases- uninjurious. (barring credit cards being used for retail addiction which could in fact be injurious when husband opens bills with me in vicinity)
Let's begin with Compulsion #1: Sudoku. Thanks to a nice lady sitting next to me on a flight from Seattle to Boise, I now have a fantastic new pastime. My computer Boggle game knows no love after having this enter my life. Always have been the freak who once used to keep a dictionary next to the bed just to learn new words...and now with pencil in hand, I obsesses over the numbers 1-9 and their placement within a grid. My hub, who now probably has a voodoo doll made up for the lady who taught me how to do Sudoku, sorta just sighs and thinks he might very well have to do an intervention in future. While he pops a Prilosec wondering what he did to deserve this puzzle freakster when all he wanted was the chick who participated with Naked Star Wars Watching Night back during the dating times..ohh, fond memories.
Crush #2: Starbucks Mistos. A fancy name for cafe au lait, and I love them. Keeps me from either consuming a bunch o' sugar with sweetened lattes...and keeps me from thinking of the old days (Omaha, 1999) when I learned from a dear friend what a BREVE was. It's heaven in a cup. But christ, it's half-n-half. The "former" 20-something metabolism ain't livin' here no more. So Misto for me, ladeedadadee. Having a Starbucks across the street from the office makes life grand. I'm tellin' ya, there's a staff of folks at that 'bucks who know my schedule better than I know myself. Fucking scary. So I have to keep it fresh. Keep it real. That entails ordering new things. Then the various darlings who work there can't just move me thru the line like I'm some version of Norm from Cheers.
Quest #3: Bond No. 9. First of all, I must say the amount of work that is required to land upon that one aroma that suits you, is the dirtiest retail experience I've had. I was sprayed up, down and side to side by this perfume queen with eyelashes longer than my pinky toe. My french whore smellin' sidekick was bearing through this with me, and at the end of our session - it woulda taken a trip to the Folgers plant and a faceplant into a VAT of coffee beans to quell the sensory overload we experienced. Like nothing I've ever allowed to happen before. All for the love of the Bond No. 9. Ahh yes, the cute bottle shape and colors. And now I've got a primer on each of the fragrances, who in Hollywood wears them (how cool is that), and notes on what my reactions were. I MUST have myself one of these little fuckers even if they are $200 per. It's all I can think about.
Neurosis #4: Piperlime. This year is the year of living dangerously. It is the year I must find replacement black boots. Sounds easy. But this task is daunting and makes my ass cramp. Ya see, I've had multiple-year relationship with the pair I know and love. They are the pull-on, no-zipper with a decent heel but not too high, squarish toe, and so overall excellent that I took these little bastards to the shoe doctor for some bondage last season. Yeah. I know. Hard to believe that I, of all people, would not be seizing the moment for new retail opportunity. But then I get this email from GAP telling me to try their new website for shoes...www.piperlime.com. And after already having placed a rather large, but shipped-for-free, order from the big N...I found myself looking to Piperlime like a new lover as she dangles its free shipping and a 10% off for new lovers, er I mean customers. More details to follow once order arrives on doorstep. So giddy I almost want to leave some cookies on a plate for the mailman to arrive with box like he's my early version of Santa. This is crazy...
And that concludes this week's assortment of addiction stories. There are way more, but my ass is tired and another 3am bedtime will simply not do. Good night, and good luck.
