What is that smell?

I've been confessing a lot lately. It feels pretty okay, so here it goes. Again. 

I spent $28 on a candle. That is votive-size. Diptyque. You win.

My mom reads this blog. I'm waiting for the call discussing my financial education background and how much better I was raised. 

But the candle smells awesome. 

Every time I light it, I try to imagine just burning a five dollar bill and how much more delightful this candle smells than burning, greasy cash handled by lots of potentially creepy people. My candle wasn't handled by creepy money-grubbing people. It was probably made by three hooded monks and two nuns in the northern-most part of a secluded monastery in Southeast Asia. Just like my favorite Bitters (but that is for another post). 

So, you are probably asking, "Jess, even if it smells PERFECT, WHY DID YOU BUY A $28 CANDLE?!?!?!?!"

The real reason is because I am a fool for indirect advertising. AKA: I read fashion blogs.

But MOoooommmmm! All the other bloggers are buying $28 candles! Why can't I? I just want to fit in!

That's right. Everyone else is doing it, and I thought that all of those really pretty fashion bloggers, with their perfect hair and really cute clothes, and shiny shoes, well, they probably smell really good. And their well-decorated houses smell really good. And I want my hunting-paraphernalia-ed house, with dog pee in the carpet and beer bottles from last nights' man-gathering to also smell pretty and GOOD. 

So I spent $28 on a candle. 

Hey, the shipping was free.

XOXO

Oh, well hello there!

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been a few winks since my last confession blog post.

When your mother texts you to 'update your blog', you know that, perhaps, your blog is failing. Fail. Okay.

So MOM. Here you go. I give you a photo of my always-gorgeous town (June Lake), and, my salute to capitalism. I'm working 60+ hours a week in job transition, and me and my dog are both in danger of some serious weight gain if I spend any more time in front of a computer.

Fortunately, the leaves are changing around here, so my newest hobby to keep my mind sharp is "leafer-dogding" with my car. The trick: come around a mountain-road-sharp-corner and try NOT to hit the tourist with 2 1/2 tripod legs in the street attempting to take THE perfect photo of yellow aspens.

Unfortunately, I haven't been able to nearly-hit any leafers while simultaneously taking a photo of their stupid actions (people aren't stupid, they just do stupid things, right?).

Here's what they were trying to capture. (p.s. I took this photo while NOT STANDING IN the FRIKIN' ROAD!!!!!!)

Smooches.

Conundrum, part two

I bought a no-iron white shirt.

The instructions say not to iron it, but to take it promptly from the dryer.

My no-iron shirt has a wrinkle. 

I have an itch I cannot scratch. I need white-shirt cortisone cream, ASAP.