I am not Bananas

I tidy up my room, open some unread mail from my optometrist, and a bewitching scent floats out of the envelope. My optometrist has scented business cards. Apparently he is not the only one.
"Scent Your Business Card- (an ebay guide)
Not only will your business card reflect your business visually, you can have an added dimension that is guaranteed to make an impact on someone’s nose. This method works well for those of you who sell gift baskets, baked goods, flowers, or perfume. Perhaps your name, or company’s name, is Rose, Rosemary, Jasmine, etc. or that is your logo—so a matching aroma would be beneficial to helping people remember your company.
Scented cards won’t be appropriate for many people or businesses (for example, if you run a mortuary? Or a brothel?)
The card actually smells very nice--like woody citrus fruit, but without the alcohol taint that gives you a migraine.
Dr. Andrew Leung, you've outdone yourself once again.

Skirts Can Be Treacherous

I wore a flowy skirt to work yesterday. I just didn't feel like wearing pants and that is my right. I've actually come to appreciate the freedom and comfort of skirts in the last couple of years instead of looking down on them as impractical and crippling. When I left work at midnight yesterday, though, my imagination started to go a little crazy. What might jump up and bite my legs as I knelt down in an empty lot to pet two sleepy cats? What strange sewer snake might jump out of the grating on the sidewalk, paralysing me forever and rendering me highly unloveable? What crack-addled man at the sketchy boarding house would see the flash of colour and determine that I was his next victim?
I got home safe (as I totally knew I would) and thought more about whether pants or skirts are truly freeing, and thinking about how we try hard to keep the snakes and rats and badgers away from our cities. Thinking that only a city girl has the privilege to walk around in a state so theoretically exposed to danger.

Another drunk post

Went to a barbecue tonight. All was well, I was being social and funny, and felt pretty confident. Until I said something sexist. And someone called me on it.
I don't even really believe what I said. I just said it. I guess some part of me believes it. It was something that implied that men can't be blamed for cheating as much as women (in the case that the man is your partner and the woman is your friend) because your friend should know better, and a man can be more easily tempted when put into fucked up circumstances (like being wasted or heavily hit on). Someone took this to mean that I was implying that men are stupid, which I was not.
Someone else made the point that when the pants come off, everyone knows what they're doing. I agreed with that. I don't know what caused me to say what I said. It feels like a dark mark on an otherwise very lovely evening with some great new people. I'm taking it fairly lightly right now, for some reason, but I think I will actually think about it more seriously tomorrow. For now, the sleep of the well-boozed and well-snacked.