Perfume convention in Holland by parfumgott at Flickr.
Monday, Nov. 28: Uhhhh… what did I do on Monday? Lots of stuff, I remember, because The CEO and I were preparing to go to the Virginia Farm Bureau convention in Norfolk. I wrote a very little (mostly bad, filler dialogue, that I told Bookworm was fluff, and she agreed with me so we must be right). Did some laundry, packed bags, that sort of thing… the rest is a blur. SOTD: uhh…. hmm… oh, heck. I just can’t remember. I’m writing this on Wednesday morning, having failed to update the Diary on Monday, so who knows?
You realize, of course, that all the time I could be lying. And you’d never know.
Ahem. I’m not.
Daily NaNoWriMo wordcount: 1983. Total cumulative wordcount: 51,880. I probably need another fifteen hundred words just to make sure I’m over the top. Remember that thing about the NaNoWriMo word counter being considerably less generous than the Open Office one? Last time I checked, the document (including the July stuff) was counted by Open Office at 55,233. NaNo said 53,139.
Tuesday, Nov. 29: Rain. Dropped kids off at school, drove to Norfolk. (That’s about a six hour drive, peeps. It’s pretty far to drive from the west side of Virginia to the east side, and we’re not even as far west as you can get! I know, we’re no Texas, but still. Virginia is wider east-to-west than the North Island of New Zealand is long, north to south.) SOTD: Amouage Lyric Woman. Wrote a little bit in the car, but my laptop battery has the stamina of an 80-year-old playing soccer, so that quickly became a non-option for spending time.
We got to our hotel at 2:30 pm and the room wasn’t ready. “Check back after 4 o’clock,” the desk clerk said. We went in to our district caucus at 3:30. When we came out of that meeting at 4:30, the room still wasn’t ready. “Check back with us in half an hour,” she said. It wasn’t ready at 5:15, either. “Go ahead and give me your credit card number for incidentals, and we’ll call your cell phone when it’s ready.” We went in to dinner at 6:00, and The CEO’s phone buzzed at 6:10. The room was ready… we weren’t. (Dinner was lovely: steamed green beans, mashed red potatoes, chicken breast in a delicious rosemary-paprika sauce, a frisee salad and a dessert bar thing including a chocolate fountain that The CEO and I skipped in order to go claim our room.) We did finally check in at about 8:00 pm, and were treated to some lovely Boursin and crackers and Chardonnay as an apology for the delay. Yum. We felt much better. Scent of Bedtime: Tableau de Parfums Miriam.
Daily NaNoWriMo wordcount: 1431. Total cumulative wordcount 53,311. That does push me over the top – Yay, I’m a Winnah!
Wednesday, Nov. 30: The rain cleared up, and we had nice weather here in Norfolk. (Locals, I’m told, say Naw-fock.) I’m supposed to be filling in for an absent voting delegate in the policy sessions, but The CEO says there’s nothing controversial up for discussion this year, and no significant board elections, and I think he felt guilty at not telling me that Stuart was not going to be here, so I’m writing instead of sitting in the meetings. Woohoo. I still have two crucial scenes to write, so the novel isn’t quote – FINISHED – unquote. Still, I knocked out 50K of pretty decent stuff this month, and I’m proud of me. SOTD: Chanel 31 Rue Cambon. It makes me feel rich. And nice.
After lunch (spring green salad with raspberry vinaigrette, pork loin roast with mustard sauce, roast potatoes, and steamed vegetables, with some rather dry orange-coconut cake), I WENT SHOPPING.
YES, I DID. It was a novelty to me, Dear Readers. I thought possibly I might spend my birthday Macy’s gift card at the shopping center that’s two blocks’ walk from our hotel, but they don’t have a Macy’s. They have H&M, Dillard’s, Nordstrom, and just about every other store that you could possibly ever ever want – lingerie, clothing, shoes, books, toys, housewares, bath products, you name it.
Yes, I am aware that those of you with access to this kind of mall are now laughing at me. But really, it’s so exciting! My local mall is skimpy. The mall in my parents’ hometown is a little better, but nothing like this one. I managed not to hyperventilate with happiness. I bought Christmas gifts for each person in my family – sale items, of course.
And then, Dear Readers, I SNIFFED NORDSTROM. Met a lovely and helpful SA named Edie, who tells me that Dec. 3 is a special fragrance sale day, where most fragrances at Nordstrom will sell at regular price, but a full-size fragrance purchase will also get you the body product(s) and/or miniature size included, and that if I want to call her and order by phone, there wouldn’t be any shipping charge. I have perfumista friends who do this all the time (cough Dear Daisy cough), so I knew it was possible, but this is the first time a sales associate has ever offered this sort of thing to me. Edie* made me samples of Prada Candy and Bottega Veneta, and tossed in a few other manufacturer samples as well, and she gave me her card. I loved Prada Candy on a paper strip, found Chanel No. 19 Poudre disappointing (I’m sure you’re not surprised), and thought that Tom Ford Violet Blonde smelled like Smarties, at least in the topnotes – i.e. not my thing. Bottega Veneta is very nice, but Cuir de Lancome is kicking its butt all over the playground for now.
* If you don’t have a delightful Nordstrom SA of your own and you want Delightful Edie’s phone number, send me an email and I’ll give it to you.
The Eastern Seaboard counties usually host a “crab legs and cocktails” reception at this conference every year, and the last night’s dinner usually features either prime rib or some kind of steak. Tonight? Salad with blue cheese dressing, more mashed red potatoes, and roasted asparagus. Steak, undercooked for my taste – although I prefer steak to prime rib, which tends to give me the willies with all that fat on it. The crab legs were faaaaabulous, though. (I wonder why the hotels always give us so much meat on our plates. The chicken breast on Tuesday was just right, but three slices of pork for today’s lunch was about two slices too much. And I couldn’t have eaten all this steak even if I hadn’t chowed down on crab legs.)
SOTEvening: Lolita Lempicka. I liked it when the nice Roman guy spritzed me last spring, and I like it from the sample that Delightful Edie gave me too. At the same time, it seems a lot like Caron Aimez-Moi on steroids, so I suppose I don’t really “need” any.
Thursday, Dec. 1: Clear weather. Oddly, it seems that it will be colder here on the coast than at home in the mountains – usually it’s the other way around. SOTD: Mary Greenwell Plum. Drove home today. Also testing Bottega Veneta. I might need to employ the spritz-until-wet technique in order to experience it properly, because it is very subtle in this cold dry weather.
The evening was very cold and clear at home, around freezing. I had to miss seeing the band march in the P— Christmas parade because I had community chorus practice, which went pretty well. Bookworm said she had enough clothes on to stay warm.
And someone at chorus complained about people wearing perfume during performances, so I can’t do that anymore – even light things that I could barely smell. Sigh. Still, the complaint is of an “it makes my throat burn” nature, so I suppose I can’t quibble too much.
Friday, Dec. 2: Clear and cold again. SOTD: Serge Lutens Ambre Sultan. Which I kinda sorta like, but am not in love with despite all the perfumistas enraptured with it. The Serge I keep wanting to wear again is Jeux de Peau, which has surprised me. (And of course La Myrrhe, which was absolute true love at first sniff.)
Saturday, Dec. 3: Another clear-and-cold. We went to the D— Christmas parade to see Bookworm march with her Santa hat and ribbon-decorated saxophone. We were pleasantly surprised to see so many entries in the parade: the marching band, a deputation from the VFW post, the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, the Kazim Shriners, the Ruritans, the Brothers in Arms Harley-Davidson club, two area church floats, the 4H club, an environmental club, a local horse club, the mayor and town council members, and the volunteer fire department (on the ladder trucks, of course).
SOTMorning: Serge Lutens Fumerie Turque. Taz hated it, Gaze liked it, The CEO said it was nice but girly. (Girly??) Taz: I hate that. It smells like… decaying steel! Gaze: Steel doesn’t decay, you dummy. If it smelled metallic that would be a good description, but it isn’t metallic at all. Me, to Gaze: So what does it smell like to you? Gaze: Syrup. Wood, maybe. Is there… um, musk in there too? It’s kind of… dirty. Like the cattle working pens. Me (delighted): Yes! It’s pretty dirty. And there’s a lot of tobacco. Gaze: Tobacco?? That perfume does not smell like cigarettes. Me: Nope. It smells like pipe tobacco. Unburned tobacco smells nice, sort of like gingerbread. Gaze: Oh. Well, that [FT] does smell sort of sweet. Yeah, I can see “gingerbread.”
To be honest, this thing smells like animal butt covered in caramel to me, which is sort of freaky and unsettling until whatever that animalic note is – it smells like a really filthy musk to me, or possibly a honey note gone pervo – calms down.
Cleaned the house. Then we went to my grandmother Nell’s townhouse to pick up some of the last bits of furniture left before the new owner moves in. I miss her. Weird to look at her furniture and think, this is the tangible stuff that’s left behind. SOTAfternoon: Amouage Memoir Woman. I was expecting it to be dry and animalic and smoky and weird… but it isn’t. It’s lovely. Piney frankincense, I think, and a sweet leathery note. Very comfortable, actually. I didn’t check the notes list, so I don’t know for sure, and I was busy enough hauling furniture to not notice the whole development.
The CEO watched Virginia Tech‘s football team get their butts handed to them (again!) by Clemson. After all the snide things he’s had to say about the University ofVirginia‘s football team this season, I can only say: HA! Howdja like them apples? (Three guesses as to where each one of us went to college, and the first two don’t count. I get my revenge for his team being better at football where I can. For example, I bought Gaze a jacket recently, and it’s UVa BLUE AND ORANGE, not VT maroon and orange. So there. I don’t mind being petty now and again.)
Sunday, Dec. 4: Frosty this morning, warm in the afternoon. The calves were dotted all over the field this morning, lying down while their mamas grazed. No SOTM. This month, our church is having evening services only, which is weird but sort of nice. Put out my collection of nutcrackers, which all have Teutonic names like Heinrich and Wolfgang and Karl. Because it amuses me, that’s why.
Bookworm is swimming in the vasty sea of homework-and-upcoming-exams, and barely keeping her desperate little blonde head above it*, so PETBoy went to church all by his lonesome this morning, and then joined us in the afternoon for our church services. It’s the only time, outside of school and marching band activities, that they’ve seen each other all week. Poor sweeties. Bookworm says I’m way too concerned. (* All A’s so far, even in the college-level classes, but she gets so stressed.)
SOTAfternoon: I Profumi di Firenze Tuberosa d’Autonno. I liked this before, but today it was too sweet to start and then disappeared too fast. Huh. SOTEvening: Serge Lutens Fleurs d’Oranger, which I was fully expecting to hate, given its reputation for sweaty orange blossom. For one thing, this OB isn’t doing its usual boring soapy impression. In fact, I think there must be a buncha jasmine and tuberose in there too. For another, it may be that I am not very sensitive to cumin. The famously-raunchy, cuminy Amaranthigh (Penhaligon’s Amaranthine) is so innocuous on me that I wear it to church.
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