Lys Mediterranee

Last summer I tried Frederic Malle Lys Mediterranee and it struck me as cool, literal and refreshing. Crisp. Elegant but earthy. Refined but approachable. Exotic a bit and certainly sensual. And I felt that at my best this was “me.”

But then I decided I maybe wasn’t that sensual. Maybe wasn’t that literal…? Not like Lys Mediterranee. …And so I tried others. And eventually I came to Casablanca Lily.

I questioned it… I loved the name. It felt comforting. Like a truly parental hug, almost.

But by this spring it felt off as a signature fragrance. And as the air grew warmer again I tried Lys Mediterranee once more and as I edited my novel the other night…it occurred to me why I thought this Frederic Malle lily was so “me.” But I hate making mistakes and I was determined not to do so again, so I waited for a day or two to think.

Today I asked my daughter for her objective opinion: “Which one smells more like mommy?” She smelled several. And she chose Casablanca Lily. And at first I thought this might mean that that really did signify my personality well. My children know the real me. I resigned to perhaps just wearing Casablanca Lily as my signature. But then…I realized that…as my daughter she sees only a part of my overall personality. The mommy. Of course. *eye-roll* It was silly to ask her, except it did shed light on the truth, none-the-less.

So which one was really more me? Who to ask… *sigh* My ex-husband is practically anosmic. Ghosts?!? *le sigh* *eye-roll*

The thing is, when I chose Casablanca Lily I was talking to a ghost. Or a demon? …Either way…it may have been someone who accidentally sees more of “the mommy” side of my personality than…the overall idea of me.

Yes. Not your typical post about fragrance selection. I know. Sorry?

…But no, the fresh sea water, warm musk and vanilla…lace-like ginger and orange blossom cooled by lotus surrounding a delicate, complex white flower that both signifies the Virgin Mother and is lethal if ingested…is…me.

I think in a way…I wish it wasn’t. Seeing yourself is lovely…but it’s also challenging. Isn’t it?

When People Cease To “Care”

People nowadays are intentionally careless. Cold. Sociopathic.

Why? Because it’s cool. It’s seen as chic to be an asshole. A bossy, controlling, ugly, bitchy, heartless troll with no brains but lots of moral authority to cancel any and everyone at the slightest infraction. A condescending, prickish “boss.”

And so…black teenagers have strokes and almost die at school because if you’re black and having a stroke…it’s cool be racist and not call the police. Like…calling the police shows that you “care” and people are so pathetic and dumb nowadays that they are subconsciously more concerned with being “cool” than in reasoning through the necessity of being good.

“Sex doesn’t inherently mean anything!” …Yeah right. …Umm…no. It’s profoundly supernatural. It’s one of the most “witchy,” powerful, terrifyingly beautiful things an adult human ever does. It pulls us back to the Garden of Eden. Reminds us of the Fall of Man. Reminds us of who we could have been… And it hints at the existence of God. A being who can arbitrate the humans having sex. Those who care. Those who don’t. Who is being abused by an adult. Who is being saved as an adult. Who is being raped.

People need to stop thinking it’s “cool” to be stupid, cruel and cold. And how did that even become “cool” anyway? …Was it in the 1980’s? The whole “Wall Street” Baby Boomers trying to be “bad” thing? *eye-roll* They…are such a screwed-up generation. Every generation is…but golly. They were particularly so, I think.

I think…if Woody Allen dies and goes to Purgatory he’ll be shocked not just by the existence of God and thousands of answers, to his questions but also how much genuinely cooler he is than F. Scott Fitzgerald and Zelda at times. I mean sure they were epic. But…Woody Allen is…himself. I hope he’ll be okay when he realizes that about reality, if he’s that fortunate.

And when some “rough and tough” Boomers meet J. P. Kennedy and Andrew Carnegie I hope they are able to comprehend how much worse they were. How much more vile. How much stupider. More spoiled. More disgusting. Heartless. Meaningless would be a compliment. And if they don’t go to a very real Hell…for eternity…I hope they can find a way to forgive themselves for being so unfathomably uncool. So very excruciatingly boring to “the universe.”

We all matter. Really. Truly.