I’ve run out of the Penhaligon sampler I was using. The only good ones were Juniper Sling and Opus 1870. I recently bought a perfume sampler off the internet just to get a nice array of what’s out there. I’m not going to describe what they smell like because I’m really bad at it. Also there are places on the internet you can find descriptions and pretend you know what bergamot, orris root, and styrax smell like. Here are my rankings thus far:
Penhaligon – Juniper Sling
Penhaligon – Opus 1870
Versace – Bright Crystal
Oscar de la Renta – Extraordinary
Gucci – Guilty
Thierry Mugler – Alien
Calvin Klein – Reveal
Michael Kors – Sporty Citrus
Penhaligon – Blenheim Bouquet
Penhaligon – Bayolea
Bottega Veneta – Knot
Hanae Mori – Hanae
Narciso Rodriguez – for her
Marchesa – parfum d’extase
Versace – Yellow Diamond
Penhaligon – Sartorial
Prada – Candy
Yves St Laurent – Black Opium
The problem with traveling is that it’s an alienating experience if you do it alone, especially if you’re empty and hollow like me. I have two weeks off late January which represents the entirety of my PTO. The problem is that nobody wants to go anywhere. I suppose not having a significant other is a big determinant of the calculation. I was thinking of Texas, and this one kinda sad/pretty girl from work was maybe gonna go to San Antonio for PAX South, but she decided she didn’t want to. Then my old friend Robin was gonna go to Colombia which I’d be down for and then he decides he’d rather go to Barcelona, and I don’t really feel like riding a fifteen hour flight twice for three and a half jet lagged days of vacation.
So it’s kind of sad that nobody wants to do anything with me, but this was hardly a new development. I think some people in this world aren’t really meant to have a super fun time with everyone else. The main issue is me, I think. If other people thought I was a super fun or interesting person, they’d want to hang out with me. Like, you see people on social media out with their besties and posting pictures of them smiling.
It’s like, seemingly a bunch of happy people having happy fun dressed up Halloween times. A bunch of happy smiling people looking at you through a computer screen, with photographic evidence to prove they appear like they’re having a good time. I’m sitting around with very few friends and certainly don’t feel great about it. But I know these people, and I know among a plurality of these people many have clinical depression.
I dunno man.
Had a doctors appointment today. Nothing major. I’ve slowly felt a subcutaneous cyst grow kinda under the skin on the back of my head for two years. It was just w/e for a while but then it got too close to a nerve and it kinda hurts when I poke it. It’s about pea sized. I just wanted a referral but then it turns out that my insurance (United Health) doesn’t require referrals. But yeah.
So it was a productive establishment of care although I didn’t explicitly mention my history of WPW. I also probably shoulda gotten my cholesterol checked but it’s whatever. I only spent like 5 minutes in the room with the PA. Fast is good. A lot of people have unrealistic expectations about what medical care is now, but it’s supposed to be efficient as possible and fast is good. It probably helps that I’m competent enough to diagnose myself. I wouldn’t have minded either way because she was really hot. Anyway I have my referral to derm and I’m gonna go do that on Friday.
Regrettably my roommate was not as chill as I’d hoped. He’s also kinda weird, like maybe he has OCD. He’s definitely an odd duck who isn’t used to living with others. So I guess my gut instinct is / was wrong, but you live and you learn to think more instead of trusting your gut. Lesson learned: people are different when they’re in their little bubble. Like, they behave a certain way when they’re with people, and then they go home and become bizarre neurotic overlords of their little kingdoms. Now I finally understand why people live by themselves.
- He delivered an obviously rehearsed speech about my incomplete washing of plates and “stray hairs” in the shower. Consequently I have bought my own dishes and will soon go buy my own pots/pans.
- He owns many fun games but instead chooses to play the original Fable, from the first Xbox.
- An extravagance of personal cleaning: dandruff shampoo, Flonase, nail clippers in various sizes, several lotions, bottles in shower all the push-actuated pump kinds of the exact same size.
- Dyson vacuum (for the unacquainted, these cost three to four times that of a normal vacuum)
- I came home and a really gross-looking Asian girl was straddling him while he was playing Fable. She randomly comes over unannounced for sex. He did not mention that he had a girlfriend/fuck buddy at all before I agreed to move in with him.
Our brief relations went from amicable to icy pretty much as soon as I moved in. Most of the stuff in the apartment belongs to him and he moved in before I did. So I feel less like I live here and more like he lives here and I’m an inconvenience to him. He also initially said he’d contribute towards paying for parking but reneged recently. So I don’t really trust him either.
I think that when two people are living in close quarters, they should either have matching disposition, like if one likes privacy and the other is rarely there. Like the stuff they need fits together like puzzle pieces. Otherwise, they should be friends who are willing to take the small annoyances of the other along with the whole friendship and there’s a lot of flexibility.
We’re like the odd couple only not friends and we also don’t really respect each other. The apartment is only 2 bedrooms and not really big enough so that I don’t have to see him. He’s always in the shared space because his xbox is out there. At least at my old place nobody was in the shared space unless they were cooking and they weren’t awkward. With five people it’s impossible to enforce OCD cleanliness standards. I already wanna move out.
I’ve lived in the same shitty house the previous five years so it’s time to move. The biggest thing is that our most annoying retarded roommate is definitely staying so everyone else is moving. Me and two others were looking for a 3 bedroom house, but they’re poor. They’re the kind of youthful poor where you live a bohemian lifestyle and pretend to like it instead of just being honestly poor. So my ideal rent was like $700-750 and they were looking for like $550. And then one of them had a friend who was also looking, so it was four of us in total. We toured one house before one roommate dropped out of the search, then the other one did, until it was just me and a friend’s friend.
But he’s a nice kid, a chem grad student so I’m down to live with him. He seems cool. We did a couple showings and eventually found a decent one in our price range. Relatively new building, off-street parking, controlled access. It’s across campus in a heavily residential area so the population density is high. I’m excited to move and to get outta here.
When we went to the showing, it was a middle aged white lady who was inept with electronics and airheaded all around. Her husband was a larger man and very similar; they were on their way to a minor league baseball game. They were okay with us signing the lease right there and then, without running background or credit checks. I look like a dork and so does my roommate, he’s a average height pale white chemistry dork. So we have privilege I guess. Whatever.