Waxed out.

My candle count remains at three.

Mom used to have a collection of candles that rivalled a Catholic church. When I was little, I’d dip my fingertips in the melted wax that pooled around the wick of the candles. Mom did not like this. She forbade me from having candles in my room, but this was out of concern that I’d set the house on fire. Even into my teens, this candle ban was imposed upon me.

Jordi didn’t throw me much of a pity party when I shared my candle-deprived childhood with him. He made a face when I described my proclivity for dipping my fingers in hot wax and determined that it wasn’t a “kid thing,” as I insisted, but a “Laura thing.”

Please back me up in the comments.

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Cozying up indoors, outdoors.

OH, WOW I DO NOT ENJOY SHOPPING.

In our last session, my therapist suggested adopting the Scandinavian hygge lifestyle to combat the winter blues, which, for me, starts in October. The idea is to make my living space cozy and inviting so I’ll look forward to hanging out in it. This seems like solid advice. So far, it’s taken me on a two-hour journey through various online retailers for an area rug.

When I finally thought I’d settled on a rug, I saw the shipping cost and noped out. Thus my rug research continues. Help.

Also, who, other than NEST, makes good scented candles? I know I’d like to border the living room with strings of warm white lights, but shopping for that is dreadful, too. Once my living room is as cozy as can be, I’ll require a plush hooded robe to lounge around in.

My birthday is somewhat coming up: if mid-August wasn’t too early for grocery stores to stock Halloween treats, it isn’t too early for me to think about my birthday wish list. It’s a milestone birthday, too: the sort that warrants a tiered cake. As an adult with a moderate disposable income, wish lists seem unnecessary. Except, I actually wish for people to locate these items, which I’ll then pay for myself. Volunteer as my personal shopper for my birthday!

The anniversary of myself aside, I co-celebrated an anniversary last weekend: Jordi and I have been together for a year. Now that we’ve hit that milestone, I can finally reveal his face:

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Wooed on Saltspring.

Seeking sunburn relief, Jordi asked me last night if I had any aloe vera lotion. I rummaged through my collection of potions in sample-sized packets. Among the niacinamides, ceramides, retinol, and moon-powered creams, I expected to find something for sunburn. Nothing.

We both went to bed, and I meta-dreamt that Jordi asked me for aloe vera lotion. I still couldn’t generate a bottle of lotion in my dream, but I had the plant.

Continue reading “Wooed on Saltspring.”