I Pledge...

To stooooooop experimenting with my essential oils when using the diffuser.  I'm mostly making this promise to myself, as I am the only one complaining about me doing this (so far).

Aside: Someone in this house often mistakenly calls them "sensual oils" and I'm not going to start correcting THAT.

So I came across several "recipes" for blending your essential oils in a way that complements a) your mood, b) THE OTHER OIL SMELLS, and therefor c) your mental well-being.  When I follow the rules (using my awesome essential oil sampler that I did NOT buy through an MLM distributor, but like a good lazy person: on Amazon) things seem to go well.  People comment positively about the pleasant (and sometimes sensual) smells.

Stuff goes awry, however, when I attempt to translate my awesome cooking skills into cooking up a batch of non-meth-smelling essential oil blends.  Flavors that SOUND like they would go together...do not.  I've made myself very nauseous a few too many times, and probably I'm wasting a lot of this oil.  Mostly my concoctions smell like industrial solvents or very bad tasting children's cough medicine.  I even start off with small amounts!  But invariably I end up putting more stuff in there than could feasibly mesh in any human nose, and it has to be immediately dumped out.  My too-much gene kicks in--I have to learn to control it around these highly erotic oils!

So I Pledge (I have also made this smell, both Lemon and Orange varieties...har har) to just STAHP and stick to my Pinterest recipes and not freelance any more with the oils.

Interestingly, I only keep the Lavender and Ylang Ylang in my room for THAT diffuser (yes, who DOESN'T HAVE TWO DIFFUSERS!?) and nothing seems to really go wrong up there with my limited ingredients.  Or maybe by the time I'm setting up the BEDTIME SMELLS, my too-much gene has already been exhausted and is no longer feeling overly sensual.  Who knows.

Faak

You know that feeling when you realize something about yourself, only to THEN realize that everyone else in your life (of course) knew this about you ages ago?  This phenomenon is constantly occurring in my life, and I don't want to assume that I'M SPECIAL, because we all really know that I am just speshal.

Anyway, apparently everyone in my life thinks that I drink a lot of coffee and love hilarious mugs.  HALF of that is true.  So I now have a collection of very funny (and some R-rated) mugs which I use for all beverages.  It's a nearly-unbreakable cup WITH A HANDLE...what more can you ask for?!!  One with varying puns on the definition of the word "F*ck"?  I'll take 10.  (I seriously may have 10). 

This morning Jack (who drinks more coffee than I ever have in my life) was using one of those irreverent mugs.  I chuckled to myself and went to grab a mug, only to see his own, favorite one (from the dinosaur museum, purchased with his own money) still sitting at the front of the cabinet.  "Jacky," I said, "why didn't you use your awesome dinosaur mug?"

I was thinking that he had just blindly reached in and grabbed something in his too-early-for-children-to-get-up-for-school haze. 

Oh, speshal Lauren, won't you ever fathom how sweet and amazing that kid is?

He told me, "I know you love mugs, and I know that you love that mug, so I saved it for you."  HE SAVED HIS MUG FOR ME. 

It is true, I do love it, it has this weird, rubbery-velvety outside coating that is really fun to touch (and hey, if I'm anything, it's a toucher), and the little handle is curved kind of diagonally, you know, the way fingers fit in a handle, so it's easy to hold and, I do really love it (as I am now realizing).   That little chucker must have noticed how often I used it later in the day, after coffee time was over, and I needed iced tea (in a mug)...if it was still available, I would chose it.  It reminds me of him so much, among the other ridiculous things that I mentioned, and it makes me happy to use it...and he recognized that. 

The world does not deserve this SPECIAL kid.