News and notes

Do you know what is the best smell in the world? Okay, the best smell in the world is the whiff of chicken soup brewing on the stove with black mushrooms and winter melons floating lazily on the surface as you walk in the door, cold and hungry. The second best smell in the world has to be men's cologne or aftershave on clean skin. I don't know why it just occurred to me, I don't even think I realized that I was missing it, but I really do like the smell of men's cologne on skin. mmmm...yummy....This is saying a lot from a girl who is notorious for her lack of olfactory abilities. I may not smell a lot but I do appreciate it when I get to. =)

In other news, I decided to postpone my trip up to New York due to inclement weather. I don't want to be singularly responsible for adding those extra gray hairs to my mom and dad's already increasing grayheadedness and I don't want to have the reason for my early and untimely demise to be, because I skidded off somewhere on I-95 due to the snow and sleet. I always fancied that if I have to go, I would go in a blaze of glory (and no, please don't read it as fire, dear God, I hate flames). Alright, enough tongue in cheek.

I read a great article by Maureen Dowd who delivered a scathing observation and indictment on today's flurry of "Chick Lit" that has taken over commercial bookstores. Ironic that it's a female who is so vengeful about it...or perhaps not so ironic after all. I find that women are often the harshest critics of other women sometimes. Not that I disagree with her, it seems that these days, we are overrun with fluffy books like "Good in bed" and other forgettable varieties, books that I confess I would pick up to read just for fun and completely forget the minute I put down the book.

Finally, I have to say that I felt an odd surge of pride to learn that a female has become the president of Harvard University. This is finally substantial proof that progress has been made and the gender gap is decreasing, if ever so infinitesimally smaller. I also felt at the same time an equal burst of shame for myself that I am not an ambitious road-runner/gunner/shoot for the top character. Will I ever stop being so lazy? How can I hope to my coveted blaze of glory by meandering lazily through the pasture of life? This lazy sheep has some serious self-recriminations to do.