Blogs

Paean to Beth for the Monster Bait: Underpants

I stumbled onto the computer to find a PM from the esteemed minilux, notifying me of the Monster Bait: Underpants LE arrival. When I finished rolling around on the floor with glee, I picked myself up and immediately ordered two bottles. I also ordered a bottle of Beltane, because Scotland and gardens and spring just gets my sap flowing. And laying on a bed wearing lovely panties with flower petals strewn all around you is a lovely thought, no? My ofrenda today is set to honor Beth, high priestess of panty lovers, and to the lovely mods, who invoked the priestess to develop her panty potion. For without question, only friendly monsters should enter our gorgeous panties! I this place.

Filling the Periodic Table

April 1, 2006

How do I love thee, let me count the ways...

I must say, even though I am not usually the kind of person who waxes poetic about commercial services... I could have the turbotax people's babies this morning. I've been using Turbotax for the web for the past 5 years (Which is cool on its own, since they have PDFs of my last 5 tax returns available right there online.) It's a great tool, I've been really happy with it when I didn't have very complicated taxes. Since I don't own a house, I usually take the standard deduction, super easy. When I first moved to California, though, That first year I had to file state taxes in both California and Kentucky. At that point in time, Turbotax only let you do one state tax return. It was a total headache. States don't make it easy, at all. Anyway, this year, I have to file taxes in both California and Missouri. I was looking forward to the messy process of trying to figure out if I should file resident or non resident in each state, and figuring out how to deduct one state's taxes in the calculation for the other and all that stupid crap, when, lo and behold, Turbotax for the web tells me it can do up to 3 state income taxes and make them all work amongst themselves correctly. Dude, how awesome is that? I have to pay a whole new fee for each state's return, but I know that that extra $30 is saving me hours of confusion, and I sure as hell know that my time is worth it. I did all of my taxes in an hour this morning. I think this deserves a trip to Starbucks.

antimony

April 1, 2006

I love teh Smut

I work for a state legislature. They only meet part of the year and they're almost finished, but the final week or two can involve working some long hours, because they meet into the night. A lot of it is a hurry-up-and-wait process for my office, since if there's something on the agenda, we have to sit around and wait for it to come up for debate. There may be a lot of blog entries from yours truly next week... Anyway, this afternoon a coworker and I were looking at Monday's very long agenda. He commented on a bill title -- something to do with obscene materials. He said: "Hmmm...it's a smut bill." I automatically said: "I love teh Smut!" He looked at me and said: "Really?" Not that he's a prude, not one little bit, it was just the rapidity of my remark and my great comfort in saying it that took him aback. I told him about Smut of the BPAL variety. He said: "Is this the same group that made the Beaver Moon t-shirt and that Naughty t-shirt?" I said yeah, more or less. (No point boring him with BPAL and BPTP distinctions.) I still hope the lovely and talented Macha makes a Smut t-shirt design some day, 'cause we do love teh Smut.

April 1, 2006

Review Round-up!

Starting off

I'm not much of a blogger - my barren LJ and Blurty accounts are proof of that. But I'm always on the forum whenever I get a free moment, so perhaps a blogspot *here* will actually get some attention. So, yeah. Yay forum blog!

furygrrl

March 31, 2006

march of the impses

57 scents tried

All right, I started into BPAL back in February... it's nearly April and I've already managed to try 57 scents. I must be on a roll. I've got about 32 I liked/loved. 25 that didn't work/I liked but not enough to keep. Which I assume is a good ratio. I've honestly only kept about 20-25 of the ones I liked, which will probably go down again because I need to really be ruthless. Gluttony... good god that stuff is killing me. I only tried a tiny bit!! Guess I'll go recull my keep box.

batsy

March 31, 2006

You take the good, you take the bad...

Snarky was just going to throw out a light, humorous, purple-prose-free post about the miracle of covering things in chocolate (obviously, the good), but she just got a call from the imaging center asking her to come back in for additional views (alarmingly, extremely, horrifically bad). Based on her mother's occurences of breast cancer (2-3 times, depending on how you look at it), Snarky went in for an early baseline mammogram two days ago. The woman who called was very reassuring about the fact that several women get these "call backs", and that the reasons that are bringing Snarky back in (that have absolutely nothing to do with the glaring C WORD that neither mentioned over the phone) could be overlapped tissue and the fact that the radiologist wants the baseline mammogram to be as accurate as possible. Still. Snarky can't help feeling the tears crawling up the back of her throat... nor the sense of absolute, blind, shrieking panic just barely restrained by her too-tight, too-cold skin. Perhaps she should have saved the last chocolate covered Nutter Butter for later.

Shellhell - Hermetically Sealed

March 31, 2006

Whiskers and Whispers

Thanks to the Simpsons, I'm trying Telltale Heart.

I know when I'm addicted when I notice little references to BPAL in everyday life. Such as a rerun of the Simpsons that mentioned the Telltale Heart. That instantly solved the decision of what BPAL I should test tonight. TTH it was! And I do like it, but not as much as Great Sword of War which is similar... I can't get over how wonderful Anthelion is...there are times when it smells like gingerbread with creamy vanilla. Seriously. It actually resembles something from another etailer, but much nicer and with that magickal feel to it that only Beth can do. And it works...I think i will get round to doing a candle ritual or even a meditation with this stuff...I feel so cheerful and calm tonight, less argumentative too. Is that a result of the Anthelion? I also feel a lot less menstrual as well. I think that maybe another reason. I hope that Beth does something fun for tomorrow. I also hope that anything released tomorrow (if that happens) will be up until at least Wednesday/Thursday? Why? I want to make a big order on my birthday!!! I also hope my Peony Moon order gets sent asap...

yeahbutnobut

March 31, 2006

littletingoddess' Blog

being second guessed

This is a hypothetical question, of course... but why does my husband have to second guess everything I do lately in regards to our daughter??? The doctor I take her to isn't good enough in his mind. Nevermind he's the only doctor I completely trust him, and really like him, and see him for my own health care. And he goes to a PA who's answer to everything is to take an antibiotic, and that's ok?? Nevermind I'm the one who always takes her to the doctor. And he now seems to doubt I know best in everything that pertains to her MSUD. Who's the one who knows how to mix her formula, how much protein she can tolerate, who does her blood sticks, etc, etc, etc.? If I were to die tomorrow, he would be completely lost. It's not being second guessed that I hate so much, it's just being second guessed by someone who has no knowledge on the subject, yet still assumes his way is the best way?? ARGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

littletingoddess

March 31, 2006

The Defacography or Humiliation on High

About 6yrs ago, my colon died. Kaput! Gave up the ghost. I was left drinking that nasty crap they make you drink before you have a colonoscopy - but I drank it every day just to go once a week so... My Gastroenterologist was debating on having my colon removed but he decided I needed one more test before the decision was made. The only thing I was told about this test is that it was called a defacography and that it measured my rectal floor pressure - or in laymans terms, how well the shit went down the chute. Thus the term Defacography - a study of defacating - little did I know.... I arrived at the hospital for my test - very happy that, for once, this test didn't involve drinking vile tasting barium enhanced with Hershey's Quick to make it more palatable -ha! like you can disguise the taste of barium - hello?! I am called for my test and follow the nurse through a hallway draped with plastic and tools all over the place (my hospital was having remodling and construction done) I enter a room that has an xray bed that is upright so you can stand in front of it. I am perplexed to see that there is a 5gallon bucket with a platstic liner in it, and a toilet seat on top of it, in front of the upright xray table. I change into a lovely hosptial gown, complete with peek-a-boo rear, and I am asked to go sit on the make shift toilet while they take an xray. WTF? I am told it will show my rectal floor at rest. - okay, so that wasn't so bad..... The xray table was then laid flat and I was asked to lay with my butt facing the doc. He lifts up my gown, exposing my blushing cheeks, and places and round metal piece on my butthole. I am then asked to stand up and squeeze my cheeks together so I don't loose said metal marker while they put the xray table back to horizontal and place makeshift toilet in front of table. I am asked to sit on the toilet thing (all the while keeping the metal thing in place) and they take another xray. At this point, I am thinking to myself, this is pretty ugly, I hope this is the end of the test. Ha! And it gets worse.... The xray table is once again laid flat, I am told to lay down on top of it. The doctor removes the marker. He goes off to get something, and I see him moving the construction worker"s tools out of his way. As he rummages around, I he picks up a calking gun and starts heading in my direction. OMG - the caulking gun is meant for me?! I thought it was part of all the construction but find out that it is one of the defacography dept. tools - I kid you not! The doctor places a rubber hose on the end of the caulking gun, and in the slot that a tube of caulking material goes? He puts a tube of barium. He tells me to relax (ha! sure!) and he puts the tube up my butt and starts to "caulk" barium up my ass. I am thouroughly disgusted - How much worse can it get? Let me tell you, never ask that question, because, things can definitely get worse!!!! So, my butt is full of barium and I am once again asked to get off the xray table while they once again place it upright with that damnable makeshift toilet in front. I am asked to sit on it and told - hold it hold it! and then, they start to raise the toilet thing with a remote control and..... drumroll please... for the finale.... The toilet thing I am sitting on is raised into the air. Yep, I am sitting there,barium caulked up my ass, on a stupid 5 gallon bucket with toilet seat attatched and I am about 5 feet in the air - and if that isn't humiliating enough.... an xray video camera is placed on the side of me, aimed at my poop chute. The doctor is standing in front of me - my knees are eye height to him (OMG can I just die now?!) and with video xray camera rolling, I am told to poop out the barium!!!! Can I just say "OMFGWTHFBBQ?" Poop out the barium, 5 feet up in the air, xray video cam rolling, my knees eye height with doc and technicians walking around the room? I am thinking to myself, "what kind of sick f*ck goes into this type of medical specialty? " and then I think to myself.... "I need to get a copy of this tape! I could sell it on a porn site for quite a bit of $$ to some weird freak who would probably get off watching an xray video of me pooping out barium." Hey! it's not like my face would be showing or anything! Anyhow, I can't stop the stuff coming out of my butt - how much freaking barium did he caulk up there ? This is SICK and WRONG!!!! Finally, the deed is done and I wash up, get dressed and leave -face red with embarassment....

Rhowan

March 31, 2006

La Ofrenda

La Ofrenda means "the offering," of course. I love it when Beth describes the ofrenda in the Excolo scents... ah, the offerings to the goddess or the god. The world "offering" to me conjures up passing a collection plate in a uptight church and it immediately takes on a repressed, dreary connotation. "Ofrenda" conjures up the smell, taste, texture and colors of all things juicy and real and alive that you'd offer in celebration to the diety. There's always talk on the forum and in the blogs about putting on some gorgeous BPAL before you go to bed, and falling asleep in the delicious haze of that aroma. Isn't that an ofrenda to your subconscious self? I rather like the notion. Does it produce deeper sleep, more meaningful dreams, a calmer mind upon awakening? What about anointing ourselves with BPAL during the day...couldn't we view it as an ofrenda to our waking life? And to our bodies? And I'm not talking about a nonstop, shallow, "I'm-so-fucking-hot" attitude, that vapid bullshit self-infatuation. I'm talking about appreciating your body and your soul for a few moments each the morning before you walk out into the mayhem of the world. And lingerie is, of course, an ofrenda. Absolutely. While it's commonly seen as an ofrenda to another mortal, is it really? Is is just as much, and perhaps first and foremost, an ofrenda to yourself? Someone else may simply be lucky enough to participate in the celebration. And if there isn't someone else to participate, don't despair -- for the quiet, ritualistic ways that we appreciate the goddess that resides within, is to walk on holy ground. So divas, anoint yourself, because you're gorgeous. And I'm wearing my cocoa loco bra again today because it's so great under clingy tops. My undies are lacy boyshorts with a keyhole peek-a-boo in the back. And I still haven't gotten over wearing Tunisian patchouli and O, blended together.

March 31, 2006

Trapped in Amber

Maintaining the status quo. Treading water. Keeping a holding pattern. Snarky has long suspected that she suffers from a slight case of whatever that dude in "Memento" had... her early life consisted of two year stretches between changes in scenery, and with each change she dropped most of her points of reference -- her friends, her hobbies, her life. Pick up a new string, turn 180 degrees, start wandering the labyrinth again. Sure, the "reset button" draws her back into a slightly different place each time, but it feels like two steps forward, one step back. It's a stilted, wonky march to the beat of time's inevitability. There are a handful of touchstones. Powerful moments that break through the thorny hedgerows. Most of them are triggered by scent. Today she's wearing Jacob's Ladder. The high, bright amber is bringing back memories of her maternal grandfather. Memories of his passing which was sudden, unexpected, and tinged by family lore about karma. He's been dead longer than he's been alive in her life, and that death still ripples through everyone in her family like a silent aftershock. For years, his death froze her in a substrate of fear. Fear of nothingness and of simply not being anymore. It has taken time, but she is finally starting to see that being still and impacting little is an insult to this brief moment of somethingness she's been granted. The amber is comforting, familiar. But it needs to be broken. She needs to climb those thorny hedges and see the labyrinth for what it is. She's making a move. Swimming for shore. Touching down.

You will hardly know who I am

March 31, 2006

Starfish & Coffee

Few and far between, part 2.

In the Summer of 2005, there was a family medical emergency. I have, since then, been spending about half my week at my mother's home, offline, doing home-care. We're coming up on the one-year anniversary of her stroke and after a winter funk, are now looking at our options.

byrdie

March 31, 2006

Starfish & Coffee

Few and far between, part 1.

So, since late 2004, my reviews on this forum have been dwindling down to nearly nothing. Since I didn't do much here besides post reviews, I don't think may people actually found out what the deal was. In mid-2004, I started getting really, really depressed. "Situational depression," some people called it. A 10-year relationship was going down the tubes. It ended formally in January 2005, shortly after New Years. I moved out in late February/early March of 2005, and started building a life of my own.

byrdie

March 31, 2006

circe_blue's Blog

Pining for Peony

Where art thou, Peony Moon? ::waitsimpatientlychecksemail:: Next time, I'll be a smart girl and separate GC orders from just released LEs. Then, I can get some imps to tide me over till the Lunacy oil arrives. I'm gonna go check out the How Do You Plan Your Order thread. I sniffed some Peony-something at the Gap today. Smelled really soft, and pinkish, and nice and clean. Then I noticed that because the tester had been handled so much the oil was leaking out of the roller-ball thingy and soaked a bit of the bottle and my hand. Also, it had bits of dirt or something on it from being dropped on the floor probably. I hate that. What are these people doing to the roll on applicator?! It's not that hard to use! Tried some commercial perfumes also. Thierry Mugler's Angel Violette and Cacherel's Promesse. The Angel smelled alcohol-y and then morphed into B.O on me. Nasty. Ugh. Promesse was better but nothing that impressed me enough for me to buy it right then and there. Flowery, soft, young, didn't smell like some dude who hadn't taken a shower in a summer week. Really excited to hear about Hungry Ghost Moon . Sounds great. Watched the Office without the bf there with me or on the phone with me, and it felt a bit weird. Still funny though. "Jim Halpert, clean up in Aisle 4, laundry detergent." and the Dwight NBC public service announcement was fantastic. Also, my cat bit and clawed at me yesterday. I bled. A lot. For all the times he's a big ol' pile of fluff and cuteness there are just as many times he's a Little Furry Bastard.

circe_blue

March 31, 2006

poisonapple's Blog

Woe to the Uneducated

My husband and I went and got one of those really neat misting fountains. It was not expensive and I could just smell how nummy my house would be with a BPAL misting fountain. the lady that worked there said we got a free scent with our purchase. While I was trying to find a polite way to decline my hubby ran over and picked out cherry vanillia. Not bad..i like the scents. So we got home he set it up and asked me how much to put in the fountain. Before I can even answer he dumps the entire bottle...that is 2 drams worth of cheap stuff into the fountain. It smells nasty to the 9th. I have a headache..my throat hurts..and I'll have to live with this nasty shit. he on the other hands love it..thinks it smells great. Poor Poor soul. I fear there is not hope for him

poisonapple

March 31, 2006

Dream dream, even for a little while

If I ever find myself independently wealthy I want to open a ranch like this: Rolling Dog Ranch And I want to spend my vacations renting properties like these: Private Properties Abroad Oh, and I've just finished reading a trashy 1940's novel called "Dragonwyck" and I'm trying to decide whether to go to bed tonight with John Steinbeck or Carl Jung. Carl Jung might be more fun, because he comes as a package with Joseph Campbell.

clover

March 30, 2006

Darkity-Dark-Dark-Wheeee!

Snarky never claimed to be "goth", but she apparently ended up that way. Black just suited her better, and while her musical tastes have always been on a diet, she enjoys what little genre music does happen to wander past her plate. Oh and there's the poetry. The breadth and depth of which must surely qualify her for some sort of angsty, navel-gazey, inky black award. It was on Glampyre's suggestion that BPAL would appeal to more "gothic" tastes that brought Snarky into the fold in the first place. But instead of finding a more delicious brew in which to wallow Snarky has found mostly happiness and resonance through BPAL. Better living through (esoteric, alchemical) chemistry, as it were. This morning's judicious application of Danse Macabre has eased Snarky out of her Existential Funk. She's now contemplating dinner with The Mister (another date-date!), a minor sandwich cookie binge (probably not, though, because of aforementioned date-date), and (hopefully) impending landed gentry-dom. It feels good to be grounded in the here-and-now again, rather than the shoulda-woulda-couldas. However, Snarky will endeavour to honor her inky black roots and try mightily to contemplate something deepy dark and morbid. Possibly the wretched demise of this damned intranet site she's been trying to build for the last two months. Surely therein lies a tale of woe.

March 30, 2006

Just who do you think you are?

She's like everybody else - she's completely unique. There are minor variations that skew her off center from the norm, but it's a large, comfortable demographic with ample wiggle room. The hated but apropos "slackerdom" is inherent (why else a "high-concept" blog crafted during the work day?) as is the vague uneasiness that often accompanies the under-utilized, over-educated, filled-with-potential-but-not-going-anywhere intelligence that wishes it could live long enough to become wisdom. She has recently discovered concrete proof of her own mortality - first in the endodontist's chair, tears streaming back into her hair; and again in the surprisingly warm and comfortable imaging room during her first mammogram. Her world sharpened into finite days. Now anything done without mindfulness is shameful, offensive, a waste. Which is horrifying as her entire life, save for a few accidental miracles, is one shameful, offensive waste after another. She's waited so long - too long? - she needs to do something. The need is a physical ache in her palms, a perma-frown, unbearable restlesness. She grabs her imp of Danse Macabre. The drydown will bring back old friends and that night spent saying timid goodbyes. Making eye contact for the first and last time. Her last dance with that great old group of freaks. Green hope wafts from her drying wrists. She settles down to type, and to wait out her memories.

Shellhell - Hermetically Sealed

March 30, 2006

Harboring an Alien

*THE SPASM* Woke up in the middle of the night feeling like Alien VS. Predator was going on in my chest and back. In the dark, I waited to see if one of those pesky little aliens was going to burst out of my chest. It is even worse this morning. Nitroglycerin tabs usually help and so do muscle relaxants - not today! It must be quite the fight. What is actually going on is my esophagus is spasming in high gear. Along with the spasming, I actually get symptoms of a heart attack, but that is basically because those same nerves are all tied in together. It's the shits sometimes.... I have a shitty digestive system which leaves me with a pretty bleak future. I don't think about the future because I have faith in modern medicine and I think that one day they will have something out there for me. My digestive system is slowly shutting down. It all started with abdominal pain when I was in my teens - not to worry, my mother was told. After I had my children, I was told I needed a hysterectomy - not only for the fibroid tumors, but because of the never ending low abdominal pain. A few years later, the abdominal pain gets worse and to make a long story short, my gall bladder just quit working. Gave up and died! Gall bladder - Gone, Appendix -gone. Somewhere along the line, my colon gave up and died too - they took that too. At least I didn't need a colostomy bag. Things move sooooooo slow thru my digestive track that I actually have to take a medicine to force things thru and to have a good poo (ha! I said poo! and I rhymed ) My stomach is slowly shutting down, my small bowel is so very slow and lets not forget the esophagus - where things don't go down if when I swallow, or I have the freaking alien breakout! Oh! and lets add to it, all of the scar tissue build up from the numerous abdominal surgeries - plus the unknown peritonitis and peritonitis from a ruptured small bowel. ACK! So, for all of those things, I am in chronic pain from esophagus to rectum. Anyhow, whoever is struggling inside my chest right now, I hope that it's not the alien that wins!

Rhowan

March 30, 2006

Boilerplate

Blogs abound. Snarky regularly rocks three (count 'em, three!) of her own (the prerequisite LJ discourse, the demographically behooved knitblog, and a fairly young SparkPeople weightloss rumination), so why another one? Because this is so. Damn. Cool. But, Snarky has to make it interesting, different, somehow equally relevant to the other virtual dumping grounds to her massive ego. Ergo, this experiment. Once upon a time, she had delusions of literary grandeur. Through some overworked and convoluted logic, the BPAL Blog is going to be The Writing Blog. And if the Hat Trick of "Snarky-Centric Script", "Aspirations of Artistry", and "Grabby Gimmick" is to be acheived.... well, ya gotta have a gimmick if ya wanna have a chance. Snarky is going for the time-tested, Bob Dole approved method of third person narration. Also possibly horrible grammer, passive (aggressive) sentence structure, and major conjunctivitis (in this case, swelling and overuse of conjunctions... not pink eye). But not dangling participles! That is something up with which Snarky will not put! Finally, depending on mood, your humble narrator might be "Darkity" or "Snarky" or just plain little Miss Universal "S/he®". So. All of this, plus the occasional mention of smellies to keep the blog relevant to its gracious host-body. Groovy.

March 30, 2006

Perhaps to maunder

Maunder: 1. [v] speak (about unimportant matters) rapidly and incessantly 2. [v] talk indistinctly; usually in a low voice 3. [v] wander aimlessly I so do need to thump myself in the head and give myself an attitude adjustment. Except that's probably not the gentlest way to look at it... Let's see... I need to remind myself not to whack out in my predictable old ways. But I'm so good at whacking out, since it's my Own Private Madness and at worst I seem a bit distracted. Inside, I am a teeming malestrom of whackedness and then I get more pissed off at myself because I know I'm doing it to myself. I went out for a walk to try to clear my head and actually did something to make it worse. Oh, it's a long story. And for hell's sake, I have no basis to bitch. None whatsoever. My pissiness is based upon the fact that I want what I want when I want it, even when it makes no sense and my brain knows better. Part of my attitude problem is, I'm sure, due to lack of sleep. I went to bed about 11:30, woke up at about 1 a.m. feeling like shit and I didn't get back to sleep until about 3:30. Then a thunderstorm rolled in at 5:30 am and woke me up. And lack of sleep often produces a heightened princess "wah!" effect in my psyche. I need to chill out tonight and meditate for about an hour to get my turmoil under control. And I need to do it early, because if I try it too late at night, I will keep nodding off because I'm tired. That may happen anyway. I'm not going to get into what's upsetting me, but trust me, most of you would categorize it as an amusing, madcap, abudance of riches "problem" of the sort that would be whined about by Carrie Bradshaw in "Sex and the City." Yuppers. The reason that I watched "Sex" was to watch that bitch openly whine about such things and have girlfriends patiently listen and not yell at her at the top of their lungs "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU SPOILED ASSHOLE BITCH! JESUS CHRIST! PEOPLE WOULD DIE FOR THESE 'PROBLEMS!'" And I also find Chris Noth (Mr. Big) to be hot. I'll stop maundering now. Anyone who read all the way to this point, you are a saint or you want to be like Carrie's long-suffering girlfriends in "Sex." Or for whatever reason, thank you.