Last night my husband did something that slightly annoyed me.
I know, I know, love means you never annoy your spouse.
I know Matt NEVER gets irritated with me.
He never gets annoyed when I stay up until 1 am talking to him about nothing, or begging him for back rubs or when I want to smooch after eating Bold Chex Mix......
But I write this blog, so back to HIS being annoying while I pretend that I'm perfect.....
Last night he knocked over and spilled a bottle of my perfume.
My favorite perfume.
My perfume they don't make anymore and you have to pay an arm and a leg to find it from dealers who hoarded the stuff in the 1980's.......
My perfume I only have a tiny bottle of and I wear it only when it is a special occasion or date night that will NOT involve Bold Chex Mix.
He knocked over my bottle of LouLou Perfume.
I have loved this fragrance since it came out in 1987.
I would go into Goldwater's at Fiesta Mall and mooch samples off the cosmetics counter.
My cousin Marla gave me my first actual bottle of it because she knew I loved it but it was too expensive for my teenage budget. They stopped making it at some point and until Ebay was born and made anything possible, I was out of luck in having this perfume as an adult.
Matt didn't spill all of it, but he did get the stinkeye from me all evening, even though he smelled wonderful.
He couldn't have knocked over one of the other fragrances in my collection like:
This crap.
It's my hooker perfume.
I know, TMI.
There are times I choose to wear the scent of my native people, the trailer park queens.
It helps me blend in at Walmart.
I don't know what the draw is, but I love me some trashy Lady Stetson sometimes.
Recently, I have been wearing this:
For a ten dollar bottle of perfume, it's pretty good. Nice, mellow and has a sweet smell that I like. Not floral and not musky.
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When I married Matt, I fell in love with this fragrance:
It's a nice warm scent that doesn't overpower and you can find it at the grocery store so you can pick up a bottle of perfume and grab a box of Raisin Bran.
All the makings of a perfect date night with your husband.
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In high school, I also discovered this gem:
Oh, Primo, how many dates to the dairy Queen and Mesa Temple grounds did you and I share?
How many teenage boys were lured in by your sweet, bargain basement attractiveness?
Primo, you and I go way back. I'll never let you go.
Never.
And to be fair, Matt knows that if he really wants me to stay away from the Bold Chex mix, all he needs to do is hop in his time machine and slap on a ton of this:
or this
Ask my High School boyfriends, you CANNOT wear too much.
It doesn't work unless your eyes are tearing up from the fumes.
What is your signature scent?
Does it make you terribly dated and old like mine?
Please tell me I am not the only one trapped in 1987.