It’s a Heartache

No, I’m not talking about drama. I’m talking about Valentine’s Day. It’s not my favorite day of the year, but I figured I would give y’all yet another shopping guide. I’m magnanimous that way.

Jewelry is always good. But sometimes men don’t pay too close attention to significant details like ring size, or even whether or not their significant others have pierced ears. No matter. That’s why the Good Lord gave us necks.

The Loveheart Pendant from Swarovski™. Very affordable, and you’ll be gifting her your heart all over again! Or a reasonable facsimile, I guess.

Sometimes you wish to give a gift that says, “I care about you and wish to protect you always”. And since not everyone can afford to get a permanent security detail for their sweetheart, there is always an alternative.

A pink 6.8 million volt stun gun!! Let’s face it: not all women feel comfortable carrying a gun, but NONE have a  problem frying a perp. And did I mention it’s 6.8 MILLION volts? Yeah, it’s cute AND effective!!

Of course, no post of mine would be complete without the obligatory Lolita™ glass.

The Pink Panties Martini Glass!!

There is nothing I can add to that.

So, she can look stunning, while stunning someone, and getting stunned on vodka. I hope you have enjoyed this instalment of Shopping with Aggie™.  Hope it helps! If not just remember: these are guidelines, not rules 😉

In Which I Explain Why I Hate the Number Eleven

I’ve never had a good complexion. When I was in my teens I had bad acne. Later on it lessened, but I still enjoy the occasional break-outs. Ok, so more occasional than most, but whatever. I figured if I still have acne I won’t get many wrinkles, right?

WRONG!!!

It was inevitable. I was bound to have it. Apparently it’s genetic and its learned. To what do I refer? Why, to the cursed lines between my eyes that make an “11”. They appear magically, usually when the kids are involved. I try to keep the lines at bay, but I’m afraid the time has come to get some help.

Me: I may need to get some kind of wrinkle cream before too long.

Friend: What for?

Me: THIS!!! *points to “11”*

Friend: Have you considered Botox™?

Me: The only way I will ingest any toxin is if I am forced to attend a One Direction concert.

Friend: Uh, wow…

Me: There’s a limit.

So, since I don’t relish the thought of having a case of botulism, I decided to check out wrinkle creams. WHOLLY SHEETS!!! Some of that stuff is wildly expensive. Lancôme™ sells one for $300. Y’all have any idea how many pairs of PJs you can buy with $300?? I DO!! But vanity being what it is, I take the time to search for viable alternatives to selling my arm and leg expensive stuff. Look, I don’t mind my hair turning grey, I don’t mind the weight shifting, but I DO mind looking angry all the time for no reason.

Yeah, Oil of Olay™. I don’t aspire to have an awesome complexion, but by Jove I will look happy, even if it kills me.

Have a great day, and smile 😉

When You’re Smilin’

I smile as often as I can. Not only does it make me feel better, it also counteracts the frown lines that were fostered due to children. It also makes you look younger. Seriously, try it all day, and see!

Anyway, smiling can also be a not-so-good thing. I remember when I was working for Disney™, I used to walk around and ask the “guests” as customers are called, if they were finding everything they needed, if they needed help, or just pleasant chit-chat to cheer them up. One woman just did NOT like it. She took a complaint to the district manager and straight out accused me of stalking her and making her feel like a criminal. Thankfully, the manager knew me well enough to know that was complete road apples on the roadway, and told the woman that I was “in character” and that was part of my job. I always did wonder why the woman felt like I was treating her like a criminal. Usually, saying, “Hope you are finding everything you need, but in case you have a question, let me know!” doesn’t translate to “Are you shoplifting??”

Sunday was a day like that one. I was standing in line to check out of The Lego Store™, when the lady behind me asked what was wrong.

Me: Excuse me?

Lady: Are you feeling alright?

Me: Sure am, why?

Lady: Well, you’re smiling….

Me: Well, smiling is a good thing (smiling wider).

Lady: I thought someone was in trouble.

Me: HA! Wait… you thought I was plotting something?

Lady: Well, that’s how *I* look when I’m thinking of getting back at someone.

Me: ……Uh….no…. Not plotting anything.

I felt pretty bad for that lady. Seemed to me she never smiled for the sake of it, and attributed the act to nefarious doings. Don’t get me wrong. I do smile when I think of getting even with someone who has wronged me or mine. But that’s very rare. Smiling is a very powerful act. It can even break the ice!

But it can also make them wonder what you’re up to 😉

Scent of a Woman

I confess, I love perfume. I do. Aside from the historical viewpoint, I love the romance of it. I love the bottles, and the labels, and the names, and the stories attached to their journey from nature to bottle. I own quite a few bottles, too. Perfume doesn’t have to be expensive to be nice and appreciated. I remember waaaaaaaaaaaaay back in high school, a friend gave me a tiny bottle of Babe™ eau de toilette for Christmas, and I loved it. And who can forget Love’s Baby Soft™?? I still have some of that. Not that it’s appreciated around here:

Hubby: What are you wearing??

Me: Uh, pajamas…

Hubby: No, I mean what perfume??

Me: Oh! “Love’s Baby Soft”, why? Don’t you like it?

Hubby: Any chance you can shower again, and throw away the bottle?

Me: Hater…

Not all perfumes are divine scents, though. My mom gifted me a bottle of some high-priced designer stuff that reeked like a dead skunk that had baked in the sun for days. It was so bad, I threw it out, and I never throw out perfume. That’s just wrong. But that was just awful. And I don’t care what people say about “personal chemistry”. You wear what smells nice to you. My sister prefers floral scents, and I prefer orientals and woodsy scents. Basically, that means she never borrows any of mine, and vice versa. Not that she would. My signature scent is Shalimar™, and that just reminds her of our grandmother.

Remember: the gift of scent is a personal one, so make sure YOU can live with it, as well. It is no secret what Hubby likes, from the myriad Shalimar™ and Samsara™ bottles I own 😉

FREEEEEDOM!!!!!

My friend, Princess Natasha, was kind enough to post this news on her social-site-with-faces profile. I thought it was my duty as poster of fluff here to make y’all aware of it.

Consider this your Public Service Announcement for today.

And guys, be sure to support them!!

Have a great day 😉

Tangled

I hate having a bad hair day. Seems like those are the ONLY ones I have. In a futile attempt at “styling” my hair this morning, I decided to twist separate wet strands and then roll and pin to my head. I had little cinnamon buns all over my head, which then made me hungry. I went off to try and clean up my work areas and organize my craft supplies, because it’s Eldest’s senior year and I had to get stuff to make her Homecoming mum, among other things. After a while I notice my hair is dry, so like an excited child unwrapping a present, I get all giddy thinking I will look like a gal in a Pantene™ commercial and run downstairs to undo the Cinnaminis™.

Can you say “Mufasa”?? YES, YOU CAN!!!

Seriously, the photo does not capture the fluffiness of the debacle that is my hair. I think next time I will do Cinnabons™ a la Princess Leia. Thank goodness I have no place to be. There’s only so many times I can take hearing “Circle of Life” from laughing kids 😉

Six Songs of Me

Sing a song of sixpence, this ain’t. I’m just going to go ahead and blame Nicole for it, though she found it at Dustbury, who got it from Bayou Renaissance Man, who got it…. Well, you get the idea. But I figure it’s a short meme, and I have been lacking in blog fodder, and it’s bound to cause someone to get an earworm, so WINNING!!

What was the first song you ever bought?

I saved lunch money until I could buy Heat of the Moment, by Asia.

Yep, I still own it. I will NEVER get rid of it.

What song always gets you dancing?

It’s a statistical tie: Shook Me All Night Long, by AC/DC, and Dance the Night Away, by Van Halen. And I think the latter edges out the former, but not by much.

What song takes you back to your childhood?

The Emperor Waltz, by Johann Strauss II. Not a song, but my dad used to play it a lot while I was growing up.

What is your perfect love song?

This one is tough. Our song, mine and Hubby’s, is not a traditional love song. And since I wish to keep that tidbit of trivia to myself, I shall go with my second choice: At Last, by Etta James.

What song would you want at your funeral?

Well, since The Imperial March would be too cliché, and Who Wants to Live Forever? by Queen would be too heartbreaking, I shall go with Llama, Llama, Duck.

Y’all didn’t think I would be serious at my own funeral, did you?

Time for an encore. One last song that makes you, YOU.

I thought about this one for a while. Fire Woman, by The Cult. Smoke, she is arising 😉

Forgotten Finds

I spent all morning yesterday cleaning my bathroom, and I am talking from the ceiling all the way down to the baseboards. It was a long morning. But the reward of having a very clean bath was worth it. Anyway, I also reorganized the drawers, which means Hubby won’t be able to find anything for a week, but it needed to be done. In the course of taking things out to organize it, I found a Lia Sophia™ box, and curious, I opened it to find this:

That’s right: a rhinestone choker. How completely unlike me to own such a thing…

You can stop laughing now. I MEAN IT!!

I could have put it on while cleaning the bathroom, but by the time I found it, I was almost done. I guess I will have to cajole Hubby into going on a date night so I can show it off.

After all, what is the use of owning pretty bling if you can’t go out and show it off? Right?? 😉

Endtimes, or as It Is More Commonly Called, Back-to-School Shopping

Today finds me fortifying myself with plenty of caffeine. Why? Because aside the fact that it is too early (so I have been informed) to open a bottle of wine, I have to take the kids shopping for back-to-school stuff. Little One in particular is beside herself with the fact that this year she gets to have a locker and wants to decorate it.

Did you know you can buy wallpaper for your locker?? Neither did I.

Yes, my friends, you can actually purchase a chandelier for your locker. And carpeting!!! You know, when I went to school, our decorating was limited to school rules, as in, “NOTHING ALLOWED”. Sure, sometimes we skirted around that by using a few magnets to hold pictures or taping stuff we liked, but we had to operate on stealth mode, so it had to be small and very inconspicuous. I remember Mr. Profitt walking by one friend’s locker and bursting a blood vessel when he saw the wall-to-wall coverage of her love life. Good times, good times…

Anyway, the sooner I get this over with, the better off my eardrums will be, since I will no longer hear, “CAN WE GO SHOPPING FOR LOCKER STUFF, PLEASE, OH PLEASE, OH PLEASE!!!???”

Trust me, this will take a while. She’s not easy to please. I think she takes after my grandmother 😉

My Name is Aggie, and I Remember EVERYTHING

It’s a gift, and a curse.

I was blessed with a very good memory. Well, some call it a blessing. I call it The Curse of a Thousand Gnats. Why? Because that’s what it feels like, to have so much stuff floating around in my grey matter. Seriously, who cares if actress Jennifer Tilly is a poker champion? Or that there are 119 grooves in a U.S. quarter? Or that there are 20 kisses described in the Kama Sutra?

Ok, that last one may be helpful. Don’t ask how I know.

The other day, we were visiting my sister’s and Hubby remarked that the only other people he personally knew to have owned boxer dogs were his grandparents.

Hubby: She was a very nice dog. Gypsy.

Me: No, her name was Queenie.

Hubby: Are you sure?

Me: Yep. I never met Gypsy, only Queenie.

Hubby: Crap, I’m losing it.

And it’s not just useless trivia and random memories. It’s remembering what my 23 year old niece was wearing the last time I saw her, when she was a toddler. It’s remembering the last view of my grandmother as we drove away. It’s remembering the scent of the flowers at a friend’s grave.

But it’s also remembering the first time Hubby kissed me. And it’s also remembering the nail polish I wore on my wedding day as Hubby slipped the ring on my finger. And it’s remembering the joy at holding each of my babies in my arms for the first time. Sometimes memories serve to remind us of the wonderful successes and even the tragic failures we have experienced so that we may better appreciate the paths we have chosen.

I just wish sometimes I could stop remembering that the shoelace tip is called an aglet 😉