The Scent of a Bracket

It’s March Madness, and you know what that means, kids!

You spend inordinate amounts of office time filling out NCAA brackets for the office pool, only to have it blown to smithereens by Mercer or Harvard on the very first day.

Or you do like Meg does, and come up with a much more creative set of brackets to ponder and bet on. The other day Meg was watching Mo Rocca of CBS News doing a segment on perfume, and how it’s created. One of the more unique things companies in that field were being asked is to devise a special scent for a University. In this case, the fragrance being featured was called “Eau de Syracuse“.

Meg pondered that and thought: newly fallen snow and Orangemen basketball. She immediately got a whiff of a citrusy tangerine snow cone, with a hint of rubber sneaker sole. So that smell would be reminiscent of Syracuse campus? Meg is thinking more 7-11 slurpee on that one.

I’m sure you all have had a favorite perfume over the years. Meg remembers always having a little something to spray on, starting in junior high. As she segued through college, (70’s and 80’s) there were many iconic scents she and her classmates and colleagues wore.

Meg started out with this classic fragrance as freshman:

There was something about that pink bottle. It was a hugely potent smell, with lots of bergamot, patchouli, and topnotes of library lady. Classic.

A year or so later the craze was to smell fresh and innocent, like this:

Meg totally bought into this, and realized when her natural skin oils mixed with Love’s Baby Soft, she smelled like a skunk, and not like a newborn baby. Which makes Meg wonder why she and her friends wanted to smell like a freshly diapered infant? Distinctly not sexy.

As the late 70’s progressed, more and more designers came out with signature fragrances, giving birth to the department store spritzer gal, ever ready at the mall entrance to douse you with a pricey spray of something of other. Meg took a little trip back in time and came up with a perfume bracket of sorts, summing of some of the best and worst of the 70’s and 80’s:

Meg knows she didn’t fill her bracket out to the fullest, but it gives you the general idea of how the things were rolling back then. She pretty much tried all of these perfumes; some choices were driven by designer labels, some by celebrity. Meg cannot imagine why she was influenced by Daryl Hannah hawking Sun, Moon and Stars, but it was featured in her rotating tray of bottles.

Ultimately, Meg always went to her go to, Halston, which she wore for quite awhile. If there was one signature scent from those days, that was it. It was disco, an old boyfriend, a special birthday, a college graduation, and a lot of other events all wrapped up into one. Every morning she walked through the fine mist, prepared to to face the day.

If Meg had a bottle today, she guarantees it would transport her back a few decades, which she is sure something no alma mater perfume could ever do. And somehow, she does not think “Eau de Framingham State University” would really have the same romantic cachet as “Halston”.

Texas Potpourri for $1000

Meg is full of Texasisms today, which is why she has raised the stakes of fake Jeopardy to $1000.

So far Meg has not gone down the path of saying “y’all”. She reserves her four letter words for people she knows are from other parts of the country and are sobbing like herself; she is aware the basic way we transplants communicate has fundamentally changed. In a recent example, a family member queried a new co-worker with the thought “when is the last time you hear someone say no shit?”

Umm, never?

In any case, Meg would like to proudly announce she has voted in her first Texas election. She went armed with all of her identification, voter ID cards, and the like. As she walked into the precinct, she had her choice of voting Republican or Democrat. As you have probably determined from her blog, Meg is a pretty solid Democrat, although she has crossed party lines on occasion.

In any case, she strolled to her designated table and said she’d like a ballot. The nice people pointed to the Republican table over on the other side of the room. Meg has to firmly announce “this might be a surprise, but I know I’m in the right spot. You are my people, OK?

And with that, Wendy Davis got another vote. It’s the best I can do, OK? I can’t exactly run Ted Cruz out of town, at least not yet.

In the “I’m still going to get you to be a member of my church“, Meg received a copy of this:

In it, you are supposed to read a passage a day about the 7 deadly sins and how to avoid them. Meg is POSITIVE this was drilled into her in the many CCD classes she attended during her very Catholic upbringing. She does not feel the need for a refresher course, she thinks she lives a pretty good life, where kindness and tolerance are practiced daily. She tucks her halo into her purse so no one sees the ring around her head, though. No sense showing the bling and making others jealous.

Finally, Meg has been telling you about the lecture series she has been attending, which recently featured the topic “ Hot and Holy Sex”. Meg was unable to attend the last talk, but her trusty on the ground reporters gave her some notes that indicated if you are trying to combat anxiety and depression, there is no program that works other than Jesus. Can I get an Amen?

Meg suspects this could be true, if Jesus really did turn water into wine.

Finally, Meg found her way to her first tattoo parlor. She watched as her friends got some work done, but decided she could not think of anything meaningful to put on her body, other than a picture of Jack, her faithful Corgi. Meg thinks she’ll just look at his cute face in real life every day, and not on her butt. If the tattoo sagged he just wouldn’t be a corgi anymore, and it would be wrong to have him turn into a basset hound.