Wednesday, October 26, 2005

What type of villain are you?

What Type of Villain are You?

I am Super Villain, it seems. Thanks to PFG of Do Not Enter the Tea Room for this quiz. I love being in league with Lex Luthor. And don't I look mad? I'm off now to blow up the Black Eyed Peas.

Friday, October 21, 2005

"My Humps"

I just don't even know where to begin on the lyrics to this song I heard on the radio this morning. My lovely lady lumps? What you gonna do wit all that breast? I am not the Slap of the Day blogger, but this song, the writer, the "artists" (Black Eyed Peas) and the people who play it all need a healthy SLAP!

Black Eyed Peas

My Humps

What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside your trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps. (Check it out)

I drive these brothers crazy,
I do it on the daily,
They treat me really nicely,
They buy me all these ice-ys.
Dolce & Gabbana,
Fendi and then Donna
Karan, they be sharin'
All their money got me wearin'
Fly gearrr but I ain't askin,
They say they love my ass 'n,
Seven Jeans, True Religion's,
I say no, but they keep givin'
So I keep on takin'
And no I ain't taken
We can keep on datin'
I keep on demonstrating.

My love, my love, my love, my love
You love my lady lumps,
My hump, my hump, my hump,
My humps they got u,
She's got me spending.
(Oh) Spendin' all your money on me and spending time on me.
She's got me spendin'.
(Oh) Spendin' all your money on me, on me, on me

What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get, you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What u gon' do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I'm a make, make, make, make you scream
Make u scream, make you scream.
Cos of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely lady lumps. (Check it out)

I met a girl down at the disco.
She said hey, hey, hey yea let's go.
I could be your baby, you can be my honey
Lets spend time not money.
I mix your milk wit my cocoa puff,
Milky, milky cocoa,
Mix your milk with my cocoa puff, milky, milky riiiiiiight.

They say I'm really sexy,
The boys they wanna sex me.
They always standing next to me,
Always dancing next to me,
Tryin' a feel my hump, hump.
Lookin' at my lump, lump.
U can look but you can't touch it,
If u touch it I'ma start some drama,
You don't want no drama,
No, no drama, no, no, no, no drama
So don't pull on my hand boy,
You ain't my man, boy,
I'm just tryn'a dance boy,
And move my hump.

My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump,
My hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump.
My lovely lady lumps [x3]
In the back and in the front.
My lovin' got u,
She's got me spendin'.
(Oh) Spendin' all your money on me and spending time on me.
She's got me spendin'.
(Oh) Spendin' all your money on me, on me, on me.

What you gon' do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon' do with all that ass?
All that ass inside them jeans?
I'ma make, make, make, make you scream
Make you scream, make you scream.
What you gon do with all that junk?
All that junk inside that trunk?
I'ma get, get, get, get you drunk,
Get you love drunk off this hump.
What you gon' do wit all that breast?
All that breast inside that shirt?
I'ma make, make, make, make you work
Make you work, work, make you work.
She's got me spendin'.
Spendin all your money on me and spendin' time on me
She's got me spendin'.
Spendin' all your money on me, on me, on me.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Ruth Needs

Stolen from Trina's blog, who stole it from biggerkrissy's blog (and that's as far back as I'm going)'s the game (no tagging involved, unless you elect to tag yourself): Go go google. Type in "(your name here) needs" and see what pops up. Post the top 10 results. Here's mine. I had to go 12...

1. "Ruth needs a hug" Don't we all though?

2. "Quite frankly, Ruth needs a man. Or a woman!" Ummmm...

3. "Perhaps it was a reminder that God's power is what Ruth needs to heed, not man's shallow disdain, as Mr. Benson taught her." Right. Mr. Benson. How could I have forgotten?

4. "Ruth needs to be cleaned desperately" Not true, I was cleaned just this morning.

5. "Ruth needs a team of committed people to pray for her and her ministry" Amen, sister.

6. "Ruth needs help knowing what to do when Naomi decides to return to Israel" I do! It's such a difficult decision.

7. "Ruth needs to make a dentist’s appointment as soon as possible" OK, OK.

8. "Ruth needs to photograph things or use her own "clip art" collection" No, I much prefer stealing things off the web.

9. "Ruth needs a short course in label-reading" I'm very good at label-reading!

10. "Ruth needs only 160 one thousandths of a second" For...?

11. "Ruth needs to go on her home oxygen supply" There are times, for sure.

12. "Ruth needs more of a part than what she was given" My part is big enough, thank you.

Today's fragrance: My longtime love, Ysatis by Givenchy. I was given a tiny parfum bottle of this when it was released in the UK in 1985 and I fell instantly in love with it. I wore it almost exclusively until about 2 years ago and now my fragrance collection is...well...*ahem* large. I was actually afraid that my taste might change and I would no longer love Ysatis, but I ran across the shower gel and lotion last night and decided today would be an Ysatis day. It still quickens my pulse. I was married in this scent, and wore it every day and for major events for ages. I'm glad to know that 20 years after first encountering this one, I love it just as much. Glorious tuberose chypre, perfect for any occasion. If I had to choose one fragrance to wear for the rest of my life (banish the thought) I'd probably go right back to this one, as it has withstood the test of time. I'll never be tired of it.

Per Jan Moran, the notes:
Top Notes: Mandarin, bergamot, ylang-ylang, galbanum, orange blossom, coconut, rosewood, greens, aldehydes
Heart Notes: Rose, jasmine, polianthes, iris, tuberose, ylang-ylang, carnation, narcissus
Base Notes: Bay rum, vetiver, patchouli, oakmoss, sandalwood, clove, vanilla, amber, musk, honey, civet, castoreum

Friday, October 14, 2005


I am honored to have received my very first Tagging from mireille of c'est chic. I have been charged with writing twenty random facts about myself and then tagging 5 other bloggers. Here goes!

1. I rarely wear makeup.
2. I have enough perfume to keep me fragranced for at least 10 years.
3. I own enough books that if I did nothing else but read all day I could read nonstop for at least five years without re-reading a single book.
4. My current obsession is: adopting a dog for our family. Two in the running right now, but #1 on my list is getting a lot of interest, so I could use a lot of good "send Gracie to cjblue" vibes!
5. My middle name is Cara.
6. My daughters are 1/4 British, 1/4 Dutch, 1/8 Russian, 1/8 Austrian, 1/8 German and 1/8 Lakhota.
7. We gave them each a Native American name in addition to their first and middle names.
8. I have been married to an incredible man for 10 years.
9. I am almost 6 feet tall.
10. I do not like herbal tea.
11. I work with my parents.
12. My first dog was named Petrushka.
13. I have two sisters and a brother who are triplets.
14. I have a part time job doing tupperware-like parties where I sell "marital aids" and the like.
15. My two sisters and I have all had a horrible Tom boyfriend. Nobody in my family is allowed to date a Tom any more, and don't cry calling him Thomas; that doesn't work either. With us, the only good Tom is a gay Tom. I have a few wonderful gay Toms in my life.
16. I love tequila.
17. My best friends all live far away from me now.
18. I met my husband while working in a casino in Las Vegas.
19. Arrogance and ignorance drive me crazy.
20. I spent 6 months (October-March) on a boat in the middle of the Bering Sea closer to Siberia than the United States, processing crab.

I tag: Writerchick of YerBeezWax, PFG of Do Not Enter the Tea Room, WinterWheat of Yelling Fire in a Crowded Theater, Trina of My Life My Words My Mindand Atreau of ¡Ombligo! You all must next post 20 random facts about yourselves and choose 5 other people to do the same. Happy tagging!

Today's fragrance: L'Artisan Safran Troublant. This is the Philtre d'Or from the trio Les Epices de la Passion. Sold as a trio of 15 ml bottles in a red hatbox, the presentation is lovely. But I don't want to have to buy 3 fragrances to get the one I really want. I want this one in a big bottle. All alone. Keep the cute box.

Safran Troublant means Saffron Spell (not troubled or troubling saffron as I first thought). It starts off strong with glorious spice and lovely saffron, like being in an Indian restaurant, but not overpowering. The spice soon mellows to a spicy woodsy vanilla (not foody vanilla) scent. This is somehow completely not what I expected, although now it seems perfect. It's beautiful, warm and comfortable. Perfect for Fall. Unfortunately, it only lasts a couple of hours. I won't be buying three to get one, but I will cherish my decant and wear it well.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Beauty and Weight

I had the following conversation on a message board recently:

Me: I am in love with Queen Latifah. She's my hero.
Anon: I like her too, very genuine and pretty, beautiful skin and smile.
Me: So comfortable with herself, great head on her shoulders and a great role model. Doesn't take crap from anybody.
Anon: A great personality always wins hands down.

And this conversation has been running through my head ever since. I find it interesting that when people (usually women) want to say something nice about women who are anything over a size 6 (when they're feeling generous), they single out particular features: pretty face; nice smile; beautiful skin.

But the most disturbing part of this conversation is the last sentence which I was completely unable to respond to, because I didn't want to get nasty. "A great personality always wins hands down."

What the flying fuck is that supposed to mean?

Well, I know what it means. It means that women of size, voluptuous women, overweight women, however you want to say it, are not supposed to be beautiful. We are not allowed to use the word "beautiful" when we speak of a woman who does not starve herself. Pretty face, if only she wasn't a freaking pig, is what they're really saying.

And don't tell me that Marilyn Monroe was a size 16, cause she wasn't.

So...why does this bug me? Because I am nowhere near a size 6? I guess I take it personally, a little, but more than that, it's the fact that I don't think she realizes how horrible "compliments" like that sound. I think it's so ingrained in our culture that you have to be thin - even skinny - to be beautiful, that many women don't even realize they have these prejudices. Forget black, you know we can't talk about that, so let's just say that since Queen Latifah has an ASS...she has great skin. Her personality WINS over what? The size of her body? Why should her personality have to WIN? Why can't it complement the rest of her? I'll say it: Queen Latifah is beautiful and an inspiration to women of any size or color.

There's a line in the movie Beauty Shop where she asks her daughter "Do these pants make my butt look big?" Daughter responds "Yes." She says "Good."

This is a woman who is comfortable with herself. She is no size 6, but she is BEAUTIFUL. Not only that, this is a woman who raps about using birth control, not allowing men to hit women, demanding to be treated with respect... Her music and words are empowering to all people of all backgrounds, and especially black women. She grew up in Newark, NJ - I know Newark, NJ and let me tell you, it's no treat; especially when she was growing up there. She is now a household name. She has overcome unbelievable personal obstacles and presents herself with dignity, respect for others and respect for herself. She believes in herself so we do too.

And the best thing Anonymous can say about her is "Pretty smile?"

Please, people. Think twice. The next time somebody tells me I have a pretty face they won't be able to say my personality wins.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

The JAR Experience

A recent perfume-sniffing trip to NYC began at Bergdorf-Goodman. I love walking around the B-G beauty and fragrance department. It's spacious, beautiful, has an incredibly array of fragrances and the Sales Associates are friendly and knowledgeable.

I walked over to talk to my friend Tom of Etro (I love Tom. And Etro.), and was a little surprised to see the area that had been Guerlain turned into a rather intimidating and sparsely furnished velvety deep purple room, the entrance flanked by two tall beautiful men in gorgeous suits. As I talked to Tom, I kept glancing over at the room , as if somehow it was planning to swallow me up. I had no intention of going in. Tom said "Have you been in to JAR?" I said no, it scares me. He laughed at me and said "You should go in, it's fun!" Mr. cjblue said it reminded him of the high stakes Baccarat room at Caesar's Palace in Vegas. I said, yeah that works. Tom made us go in.

Franz with the Mona Lisa smile took us over to his table. I entered a kind of dreamlike trance state as I looked around me. The chandeliers, the velvety purple walls, the plush carpeting, the ceiling - oh, the ceiling! It was a crazy marbley purplegrey with a massive lightning bolt striking right above our heads. The table was set with seven lovely little rounded laydown bottles on one end, sitting on what looked to be suede pouches. In front of us was a display of seven clear glass rounded boxes, each one containing what looked to be an artfully crumpled piece of silk or chamois.

Franz began the presentation, his soothing voice entrancing me so that I had to force myself to concentrate and even then I only heard about every third word. Joel Arthur Rosenthal the Paris jeweler is the creator of the JAR scents. He almost never grants interviews, blah blah, images of Howard Hughes or some other millionaire recluse flashing through my mind. Before Franz opened the first glass box, we were instructed to let the scent come to us and not actively sniff it or reach for it.

This is when everything really went soft-porn deam to me. Here's Franz (in the dream I guess I'm naked but he's still in his impeccable suit) holding out each glass box with the heavily scented crumpled chamois, undulating it under my nose so the scent can waft up to me. I say to him "Is that pepper?" or "I smell cinnamon" and his mysterious smile holds firm. He informs me that they do not discuss notes, rather they prefer to allow each person to experience each fragrance for him or herself. So we continue on, with the wafting and the undulating and the trance, much smiling and nodding and little soft "ahh"s. I might have been a bit uncomfortable if I weren't in a dream, but I'm rarely uncomfortable in my soft porn dreams.

I tried and tried to get a handle on the fragrances, but I could have sat there all day sniffing. It was 10 am and already I had sniffed about 20 fragrances. I was well on my way to sensory overload and then to present my somewhat taxed olfactory system with these heady, huge and complex scents was really, well, there was no making sense of any of it. The only exclamation point in this was when the unnamed fragrance (its name is a symbol: the JAR lightning bolt) was undulated gently under my nose and I reeled back in shock. I think I almost fell off my chair. It certainly wasn't the worst thing I have ever smelled, but it was a shock for sure and slammed be back into the present. I would like to sniff it again (I think) but it will have to be my first sniffing experience of the day and possibly my only. Love to get a handle on that one.

We made it to the end of this somewhat ridiculous, affected presentation. I decided to try Diamond Waters. I will say that it sat on my skin for HOURS, morphing its variations on a theme. It was interesting but not necessarily compelling. And certainly not enough to make me want to part with over $400 for an ounce. Fortunately I am not a fan of carnation, because Golconda, which was the first JAR fragrance and is certainly the most well known, is truly a stunning carnation creation. Anybody who loves carnation should try this one.

The seven fragrances range in price from the high$300s to the high $700s for an ounce of parfum extrait. That ounce would last me a very very long time and this is certainly a unique and interesting line, but I didn't find one that I loved enough to even wish I had the money. And in retrospect, the dream was a little disturbing.

Today's fragrance: Caron French Cancan. These days, it is rare that a fragrance really sparks my imagination and captivates me. The last two have both been Carons. First Caron Narcisse Noir and now French Cancan. I'm completely in love and can't stop sniffing myself. Head over heels. Think they'd accept my firstborn as payment? Notes: jasmine, lilac, violet, lily of the valley, rose, orange blossom, patchouli, iris, sandalwood, amber, oakmoss (thank you to Bois de Jasmin for this information)

From the Caron website: FRENCH CANCAN, THE STORY
In 1936, Parisian life is at its peak: it’s the time that cabaret divas steal the limelight from the elegant and beautiful women of the Champs Elysées. Being on the pulse of Parisian chic, CARON was not insensitive to Gai Paris’ pleasures, and created French Cancan, translating that devilish dance where women dare bare more than there ankles into a bouquet of voluptuous flowers… But well aware that her clients on the Place Vendôme might not find the allusion to their taste, Félicie Wanpouille originally destined this perfume for distribution in the US alone. Its success on that side of the Atlantic, and the easing up of social mores, guaranteed it continued success in post-war Europe.