About
Samantha - Mostly-happily committed art major in Atlanta. I'm a firm believer in being under a constant state of construction, sleeping naked, taking shower-baths in the dark, mocking Chris Isaak, and documenting the mundane.Links
fashion/beauty blog
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The best way to take sleeping pills is with coffee.
….figuring out where that smell is coming from.
In this case, unlike so many others, it was a good smell. Whilst cleaning the litterbox & bathroom it’s in, I realized that just maybe the outlet I plugged some aroma-releaser into to try to cover the stink that typically comes with boxes filled with poo, well, that plug may not be working, as I’ve never been able to smell the aroma thingy. So I took it out, pressed the reset button on the outlet, reattached the plug-in, and went about my way with cleaning - taking out the trash and Oust-ing the hell out of things.
Then I started to smell a smell that I couldn’t quite recognize. It wasn’t the Oust. It wasn’t the candle. It wasn’t the scented garbage bags. It wasn’t my lotion. But it smells good, and it smells familiar, so why can’t I find it’s source?
Then I went to the bathroom a little bit ago after consuming mass amounts of lemonade, and the smell got stronger and stronger. Duuuuuh.
Now I’m just amazed at how well it works, as now the entire apartment smells of it. But unless I turn down the frequency on it, it just means I can go even longer without cleaning things, as I’ll have a fantastic aroma to cover up all things gross. And I’m lazy enough, that’ll probably happen.
No one should be this ridiculously cute, and especially not two people.
Also, I just booked my cab for tomorrow morning. And I started packing. I’m getting sorta nervous/excited about tomorrow - flying solo for the first time :/
And OMG I just realized this time next week, after yet another flight, I will be in New York! Ok, I’m officially giddy.
I feel like kinda a bitch today, and frankly, I quite like it.
Today I bummed a light to lovely older French woman at the mall. I was enthralled with the way she made simple, boring English words sound so lovely. “Merci,” she offered, but of course, I could never remember how to say “you’re welcome” en francais. I could have told her I loved her, asked for a salad, or directed her to the airline ticket counter, but I couldn’t remember “de rien.” So I responded with a boring, English “you’re welcome,” returned her wave goodbye, and smiled like a six year old on Christmas morning.
Really, this shit needs to end. It’s making me almost ashamed of liking True Blood, for fear that I’ll be lumped in with all these “OMG I LOVEEE VAMPIRES” morons.
Then again, I’ve never understood the obsession with movies and the like to the point of becoming a crazy fanatic. It’s just a film, it’s just a show. If you like it, appreciate it for how it makes you feel or whatever other reason you love it, just stop obsessing and giving in to the marketing ploys they’re feeding you. It’s making the rest of us sick.