creep of the year

I make an effort to hover around the line between slightly-creepy-but-still-adorable and get-away-from-me-you-creep. I think I’ve told you this before. I’ll probably tell you this again.

Anyway, lately I’m having trouble staying on the adorable side… But I swear it’s not my fault.


It’s this guy who lives on my floor. (He’s gay, before you get too excited. The manfriend and I live in the “gay ghetto,” which I can only say because my incredibly gay hairdresser was the one who informed me of the proper name for my neighbourhood.) Anyway, the guy on my floor. We seem to have a reasonably similar dog-walking and leaving-for-work schedule, so I end up waiting for the elevator with him a few times a week.

He smells amazing.


It started out innocently enough. He stood next to me while I pushed the elevator call button, and I told him he smelled good. He said thank you, and launched into this discussion about how his work is super politically-correct and anti-anything-offensive, including scent. And he used to wear this cologne that had tobacco notes, but it was too strong, so now he’s wearing Hermès because he just can’t not wear anything. And I kind of made a mental note that there is a scent made by Hermès that smells divine and maybe one day when I want to buy a gift for the manfriend that’s really a gift for me, I should track it down. And then I got on with my day.

But then I kept running into him, and I kept smelling him. And you know the whole elevator-tetris thing where depending on how many people are in the elevator at any given time, there are designated standing spots so everyone maintains the maximum amount of personal space? (Just think about it for a second. Everyone knows it.) This morning I kept wanting to violate the pattern just to stand closer to him and smell him more.

I need to know the name of this cologne.


I can’t remember if it had orange notes in it or if I’m just associating orange with the brand. I don’t know if it’s too creepy if I bring it up again and ask him for the exact name. I don’t know if he’ll be upset if someone else on our floor starts wearing the same scent as him. I don’t know if I’ve really thought this through. I don’t know if I really want to encourage other girls to start standing closer to the manfriend in elevators to smell him.

…I just don’t know.

Maybe I’ll buy it and just spray it on my dog when we’re cuddling on the couch.

While I’ve been debating what to do, I’ve developed a craving for oranges. At least one of my problems is easily solved.


Menage-à-Trois Smoothie

Oh, yeah. We’re being healthy. I didn’t forget about that whole summer-is-here thing… despite the pie.

Full disclosure: this actually has less to do with oranges than I might have implied. On the other hand, it sounds French. Although whoever created the original (i.e. the nutritional supplements store across the street from my house that happens to have a smoothie bar) apparently cannot count. It’s okay. They have summer-friendly bodies.


a generous cup of mango-orange juice
about a third of a cup of frozen mango (the kind I buy comes in chunks; I toss in 4 or 5)
about a third of a cup of frozen strawberries (4 or 5 again)
a small handful of frozen blueberries
a scoop of vanilla protein powder (I’ve discovered that the solution to my smoothie problem is to use whey protein – then it will actually taste good. The supplements store man who sold it to me totally judged me for it though, so if you’re either vegan or into the whole paleo thing like my blow-up-doll-muscled salesman was, go for something like Vega)


Blend and serve. No big deal.


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