Estrogen lives here!

Here’s the house with the mutts (you can supersize the picture by clicking on it). Lucy the Lab is eagerly awaiting my return from - GASP - across the street and George the Jack Russell is watching the neighbor’s cat bask in the sun.

The outside of my home and the inside of it are completely different. Not just because one is inside and one is outside (wiseass) but in terms of style. My house is all cutesy on the outside and I am COMPLETELY guilty of exacerbating that fact by planting pink and purple flowers with dripping pink window boxes. Then there is the inside.

It’s painted with muted earth tones and decorated with some Jewel tones and the boldest color I have is the dark green sofa.

My outside screams, “SINGLE GIRL LIVES HERE!!” and reminds me of everything I hate about being female. The inside is subtle and quiet with no real color. Sort of like me (quiet? Me?hahaha) . I only wear white, black, gray, blue jeans or when I feel the need to go crazy, khaki. This isn’t just because I can’t match colors to save my life but because I’m not a loud person and color just isn’t my thing. The outside of the house doesn’t give this impression in the least. I finally planted some yellow in the front just because I didn’t want Train Guy to feel emasculated when pulling in the driveway.

It certainly wasn't teen spirit

The other day I went over to my parents’ house to pick up the mutts and my father said to me, “Can you smell the pollution in the air?” It was really hot and humid out and I replied with, “I work downtown and walk a half mile in bus fumes and God knows what else to get to the train station. It smells fine out here.”

So as I took a stroll at lunch time yesterday I decided to actually pay attention to what things smelled like. And let me tell you, roses were not a scent I smelled.

Here is what I smelled:

Really cheap cologne sprayed liberally
Urine
Bus fumes
Diesel fumes from a University of Pennsylvania police car
Sewage
Cigarette smoke
Coffee
Steam grate stench
Hamburgers
Really cheap perfume
Baby powder
Chinese food
Chanel Number 5
And pipe smoke.

At the pipe smoke I stopped smelling everything else and I followed the guy three blocks out of my way. I LOVE the smell of pipe smoke. I’ve followed pipe smoking men before too. I have no shame I just love the smell.

I know when I fell in love with the smell of pipe smoke too. I was an infant. Seriously. My pediatrician growing up in Connecticut smoked a pipe. He would do the exam and then we’d go into his office and he’d sit behind his huge desk and light up his pipe. I still find that hysterical. What kind of a Doctor, and a PEDIATRICIAN at that, would SMOKE within a 3 foot radius of his patients?!? He also always had a bowl of pretzels on his desk too but I’m sure I would have loved those regardless of his early influence.

Coincidence #1 between me and Train Guy: We were born in the same hospital in Connecticut 7 years and 9 days apart.

Coincidence #2 between me and Train Guy: We went to the same pediatrician.

Coincidence #3 between me and Train Guy: He, too, loves the smell of pipe smoke.

Comment his Mother said to me when we realized we went to the same pediatrician: “How funny! He’s seen you both naked!”

My response: “Uhhhhhhhhhh……… more wine?”

Freaking out E Style, 2006

I’m pretty laid back…now. I don’t care that I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up so I certainly wouldn’t expect friends, boyfriends or family to know either. I don’t worry too much about money. I probably should as I never make “enough” but I get by. I don’t care that I have no idea where I will be or who I will be with in 10 years. I found out that, shockingly, I can’t change people and that they are who they are for better or worse, love them or leave them. It took me 32 years and a few anxiety attacks to realize that I really don’t have control over the universe and what will happen will happen so, as Frankie who Goes to Hollywood would say, “RELAX.”

I do however still like to plan things. I make plans with friends for dinner 6 weeks in advance. Not necessarily because my dance card is filled but because I like to plan things. I like to know what I’m doing when and I like to look at my calendar at home and see that I will indeed be breaking bread with X and Y on a certain date and won’t it be lovely to see them? It’s one of the redeeming factors of my job. I get to plan other people’s time and tell them what to do and when. I like to say I boss people around but essentially I schedule things.

Now that said, I’m getting better with being more spontaneous. Train Guy can ask me that morning to go to dinner or meet some friends with him that evening and I’m fine with it. He can even call at 9 at ngiht and ask me to go and meet him and I can deal with that too. Do I like to make reservations and plan with friends weeks in advance? You bet, but I’m fine if I don’t. Back when I was 25 and living downtown my friend S, who was/is equally as anal a planner as I, would make plans to be spontaneous. Yep, you read that right. See we hated when we didn’t know what we’d be doing on any given night so we’d make plans to get together and then would wait to see what party plans came to light. We’d go to dinner and hang out and then when someone called at midnight and said, “We’re at X bar come on down” we’d go. Crazy yes but it worked for us. She’s now married and her husband accepts her for who she is and gives her free rein to plan away. Even Train Guy is now at point where he says, “You make the plans and then just tell me when we’re going.” Heaven to me, really.

So here I am freaking. Train Guy invited me to go with him to Nantucket in September for a relative’s wedding. His whole family will be there. Granted it’s in 2 and a half months but we don’t have a place to say and Train Guy says he’s going take care of the details. Breathe….. AND, I don’t have a dress yet. Hell, I’m going to need 2 and a new wardrobe. And I only have 10 weeks to shop. For S’s wedding I had a dress a year in advance and knew where I was staying 6 months in advance.

Thank God S could fit me in for an afternoon of shopping this week. She didn’t even look at her calendar, she just said yes. Now that’s a friend. A spontaneous friend. See? We’re getting better.

Oral hygiene is very important but….

So this afternoon I jumped (well, not literally jumped because that might be dangerous not to mention asinine looking) on the Subway to go meet a friend for lunch. A friend who moved to Atlanta with her family the exact week I was moving back to Philadelphia from Cincinnati – this doesn’t pertain to the story at all but isn’t it nice I keep in touch with old friends?

Sooooo, I get on a car and standing across from me is this really tall kid, probably about 16 or 17 with huge baggy shorts on, a big baggy t-shirt with a bath towel draped around his neck and he’s holding a toothbrush.

Hmmm, really?

It wasn’t in packaging or even in a case and there was no toothpaste on it (I looked). SO this begs the question, “Uh, WHY?”

I do think oral hygiene is important. I do love the dentist, examples here and here, but I certainly don’t go so far as carrying a toothbrush with me everywhere like a woman carries a handbag. But, who am I to judge, good for him for brushing. I just hope he had some floss in his pocket because taking care of your gums is just as important. Maybe I should have said something to him… or handed him the floss that I keep in my purse.