hnt. geez, it comes so fast....

my hello kitty watch, hands, sesame street lunchbox, and knees...

neither here, nor there....

a bunch of random for you

• the end times are near, i'm sure of it. Winnipeg is flooding and the rain just won't stop. what's the next stage in the apocalypse? fire, i think...




• brought in a gold star and my red flowered barrette for grade 8 boyfriend #1. he wore them both proudly.




• robert plant or whoever is left alive from Led Zeppelin is coming to Winnipeg in the fall. bf#1 was nearly in hysterics all day and is planning to sleep in front of ticketmaster until tickets go on sale next week. please don't trip over him. oh, and the little bugger broke my barrette.




• i now understand why people spend way too much money buying pre-made bridesmaid dresses at the store. because i am dealing with the seamstress from hell! she tried to make me pick up my dress without trying it on one final time. uh, no. and then she sighed dramatically when i asked her to adjust the strap so it wouldn't constantly fall off my shoulder. "that's because your shoulders are not the same height", she said. i don't care if my left fucking shoulder is a foot shorter than my right, just fix the goddamn strap without moaning. and then she tried to convince me that no one would notice the Madonna cone-bra points on the chest of the dress! hello? they were fucking projectiles! fix them! the wedding is next Saturday (the 9th)and apparently i'm going to look like shit.




• our city has a new entomologist who is 'hot'. this is according to the sex-starved old biddies who write for the paper and like Michael Bublé and things like Riverdance. their definition of 'hot' is apparently: under 40 years old and not totally ugly because he's 37, has long curly hair, and looks pretty dern regular to me (i looked but i couldn't find a photo for you guys, sorry). however, i don't give a shit if he's hot or not...if he can prevent me from getting any more mosquito bites this summer and wanting to perform self-amputation, i will make out with him for a full hour! i'm serious, that is a genuine offer Taz.

there is hope...

i hung out with my two grade 8 boyfriends all afternoon yesterday...was that ever interesting.

curly-locks, aka:#1 zep fan evah, aka: bf#1 called me mean when i told him that we were doing an exercise in patience and that he had to use the old (read: slow) computer in the library. he twitched and twitched and shifted and whined...but i figured it was good for him to sit still for 10 minutes. plus, i told him that if he couldn't sit still i was going to kick him out of the library because he was distracting bf#2 who was trying to do some powerpoint presentation but was really just talking to me. i also called him on calling me mean because i am so not mean to him! when i came back from my break, he had made a drawing on Paint for me with a globe, a big smile (he said i had nice teeth) that said "Ms. Homey G. you are the nicest librarian in the world!" i made him print it out and sign it. i nearly died it was so cute.

i'm supposed to bring him a gold star tomorrow (for sitting at the computer so well) and a flower barrette for his hair (to keep the curly-locks at bay without an 'against school policy' hat. he said he'd wear the barrette. we'll see about that.

bf #2 and i started talking about music and he was astounded that i knew his crazy Norwegian death metal shit. hell man, i had an ex-boyfriend who had the Cradle of Filth coffin-shaped box set! and i worked at a music store for 5 years so don't be tellin' me about the crazy Nordic music! thems my peeps!

one of the grade 5 girls was listening to Ciara and bf#2 nearly choked on his on tongue in disgust. i asked how he felt about Ciara and her greasiness and he said that she looks like she's been sprayed with PAM cooking spray! i nearly hugged him for that! young girls of winnipeg rejoice, there is a boy with common sense who doesn't fall for all the oiled-up, over-sexed bullshit out there...unfortunately he also loves Norwegian death metal...but he should grow out of that. i joked that Ciara is covered in PAM because she's ready to get on the grill.

he also did a rap that started off quite innocently but evolved into things like "gonna do my ho in the car, she's going to do her man, in the van..." and i had to put a stop to it, not because i didn't love it because it was the funniest thing ever, but i figured i might get canned if a teacher or another student came in and heard him rapping about hos and me laughing my ass off. he agreed that getting me fired was not a good idea. he also did a library rap that i can't remember because i was laughing so hard!

oh, and 'old school rap' meant "Vanilla Ice" to them...that's so cute.

i am so going to miss those boys...

i keep going to Fargo and learnin' things...

1. i totally understand why people are moved to steal those magnet ribbons off cars. 10 minutes in Fargo and i wanted to ram every car with a "support our troops" bullshit magnet. so no need to explain.




2. if American troops overseas don't get to phone their families back home, it's the fault of people who didn't charge anything on their Herberger's credit cards.




3. North Dakota is the homeland of my Norwegian kinfolk. it's all good.




4. there's a reason i am not supposed to eat potatoes, i am fucking allergic!!! remember that next time silly ago-go!




5. i was racially profiled for the first time, that i was aware of, while driving back to Winnipeg across the border. apparently not only do i look like i should speak another language, it's questionable whether or not i appear as though i was born in Canada. fuckers.

more on the story of the dark girl and the sunscreen...

i figured i'd post again rather than respond to comments...

in response to people's comments, i thank you all for saying that i'm fine the way i am! i really like who i am and, in general, i also like how i look, aside from the usual flaws that everyone finds in themselves. and generally i don't give a shit what other people think of how i look because like ian said, anyone who's worthwhile doesn't care about garbage like skin colour, hair, whatever and it's better to stay away from them.

and it's not that i'm overly concerned with my skin colour, i honestly don't think about it all that often...really only when people point it out to me. i think it's just that for a very long time i've been hurt by ignorant things that people have said to me and this is my strange way of trying to prevent it from happening again. in my head i know it will happen again because the world is never going to be rid of fucking racists, at least not until no one is 'pure anything' anymore, and i have my doubts about that. but i tell myself, maybe if i do this, if i pile on the super-powered sunscreen, that at least it will be less likely to happen. i still remember being 13 or 14 riding my bike in the summer and having some little kid point at me and say, "look at the nigger". fuck, i hate even writing that word. but people need to know that shit like that causes damage that takes a long time to undo, even if it's said by a complete stranger.

hnt submission....i'm going to bed so it's a bit early

i thank god for mom and dad's dental insurance

the story of the dark girl and the sunscreen...

i am a compulsive sunscreen user. i wear it everyday on my face all year long, minimum of spf 15 in the winter but usually i go with 30. now that summer is here, i've cracked out the big guns....spf 60 (with mexoryl for ultimate protection) everywhere: face and body!

as you might have guess, i'm slightly paranoid about skin cancer and would rather not look like leatherface in 20 years. and i'm not big on weird tan lines. but that's not the major reason i coat up every day, i just don't like getting tan.

as a swarthy olive-skinned girl i burn very rarely and i get brown pretty darn quick. however, i don't like getting dark at all, i like to stay as pale as possible. why? because the darker i get the more self-conscious i feel and the more racist bullshit i have to deal with. at least when i'm pale-er, i don't have fuckers coming up to me and making 'black' jokes (as witnessed by racist stagette bitch who i'm hoping did not realize that i am mixed....because if she did realize, she needs to straight to hell with a spike heel through the head!). regardless, no one has ever called me the 'n' word in the winter.

the more i think about this, i realize how irrational it seems.... in a summer of 32 degree weather, i'm bound to get a tan and trying to avoid it seems ridiculous. but it's more of a mental thing. i'm not sure how to get past this worry...maybe i never will.

i should be the new Aveeno spokesperson (aka back off fucking mosquitoes!)

if i were the spokesperson my commercial would be:


"this weekend i was out at a stag-ette all lovely and gussied up and having a great time despite the bigot at my table. but i had 9 mosquito bites on one foot that itched like a racist bitch and asked the girls at the table if anyone had an axe so that i could chop off my offending foot. since none of them did, i considered gnawing off my foot and walking around with bloody stumps all night just to numb the pain...but the stumps wouldn't have gone with with my dress.
now i use fucking Aveeno everything; soap, shower gel, lotion, bath oil, bath soak....hell, i'd even use shampoo and toilet paper if they fucking made it! anyway, now i no longer want to amputate my limbs. thanks Aveeno."


so now i smell like oatmeal, which is not the worst smell ever, but i really prefer to smell like fruit or gardenias or something. guess that's out for the summer.

if i took photos of every bite i received over the last 3 days, i would have enough pics to get through HNT until early november (which would be very boring for everyone unless they were an entomologist) . i must be a very tasty young lady.

what's with the fucking racist idiots?

on friday night this guy my friends and i were hanging with asked me what other languages i spoke. why? because since i "wasn't white" obviously i should speak another language. i told him that i was Norwegian and that he should back off. and this guy is asian! did he not see how racist that was? what if i was greek or italian or something? and seriously, am i 'white'? technically, if you make a lovely pie chart of my heritage, i'm more 'white' than anything else. do you have to be 100% caucasian to be white? because apparently you don't have to be 100% black to be considered black. i call bullshit on that!

and then tonight at my friend's stag-ette, one of her friends starts talking about going to a bar where there were mainly black people. fine. but what she says is, "all i could see was teeth and eyeballs..." and proceeded to say how they all looked alike. i could not believe a 20 something woman would say shit like that...gave me the fucking rage! and hello, how often do black people find themselves the only non-whites in a room? like all the fucking time! so fucking get over it beeyotch!

i had a good night last night...

last night i went to an "Old School Hip-Hop Block Party" for our local jazz festival. it wasn't exclusively old school or hip hop but it was a beautiful night and a good time.

here is my summary list of the evening:


number of Molson 'Kick' beers consumed?
1 and 1/2 (i shared with a boy)


number of crazy people who approached us with 2 Molson 'Kick' beers in hand and proceeded to explain that it makes you really hyper-aware but the shit will fuck you up because beer is bad for you and caffeine is bad for you so the hangover is soooo fucked up....etc., etc....
1, we thought he was on meth


number of times i spilled 'Kick' on my hand/arm and licked it off
2


number of mini-donuts fed to me by my friend C because i refused to touch her food after using the hand-sanitizer (which i deemed insufficient) in the disgusting porta-potty?
3


number of hilarious chubby little kids breakdancing on stage
2, i think they were brother and sister and they fucking cracked me up! they will probably be on local tv today.


number of mosquito bites received on my left foot
9


number of mosquito bites received on my right foot
4


number of mosquitos who apparently crawled down my pants to bite me below the underwear line?
at least 2 that i've noticed so far


how much said mosquito bites itch
like a fucking fucking bitch


most interesting topics of convo during the evening (2 girls, 2 guys) -
1) the 'ladies first' rule (so many men do not understand that rule...)
2) spank banks
3) how to interpret the 'ladies first' rule if two women are together

ha ha! fie on ashton (i.e. the word has begun to circulate...)

i'm hoping this is that last post i ever write about him.

everyone knows about the split now. he hadn't told anyone. everyone was shocked and thinks he's a fucking loser for dumping me over the phone. even his weird muscle-head friend thinks he's an ass. and people are m-a-d! which makes me giggle because i am doing fine. A-ok in fact...and i may have another crush already, but i'm going to keep mum about that for a while before i jinx myself.

hnt submission....

clavicles and cleavage...which is astounding because i have none, cleavage that is.

i am a noni copycat...

10 years ago, I....

1. was almost 19
2. starting my first real job in a retail music store
3. was beginning to get depressed because i realized my big life plan to be a psychiatrist was not going to happen
4. went on my first real date ever with a guy 11 years older who totally took advantage of me
5. had my first real kiss (with the gross guy who was 11 years older than me)


5 years ago, I....

1. finally graduated with my 4 year B.A. (the extended 6 year program)
2. started dating the first good boyfriend i ever had
3. went to Italy for the summer with a girlfriend and had the best time
4. had a depressive crash because you can't get a fucking decent job with a 4 year B.A.
5. started taking anti-depressants


Today I ....

1. feel like i am ready for a relationship
2. am feeling bug-crawly itchy from allergies
3. am overtired and nothing is helping me sleep through the night
4. was locked in a closet with 24 grade 8s for a practice 'intruder alert'. next time i'm taking my chances with the 'intruder' ...
5. walked through a mall parking lot in my bare feet because it didn't want to ruin my shoes in the pouring rain


Tomorrow, I will....

1. go to bellydancing class
2. harass some grade 8 boys
3. take my noon-hour walk (provided it's not raining)
4. hug my mom
5. miss my dad a lot


5 Snacks I Enjoy:

1. french mint bars
2. fuzzy peaches
3. cinnamon buns
4. movie popcorn with layered butter
5. smartfood


5 Songs I know all the words to, even with out the Music:

1. I want you back, Jackson 5
2. No Parking on the Dance Floor, Midnight Star
3. My Boo, Ursher (unfortunately)
4. His name is wonderful -Little Marcy (dont even ask...)
5. The Clapping Song, Shirley Ellis


5 Things I would do with $100,000,000:

1. let my mom decide what she wants to do with the house and do any renovations she wants
2. buy a condo in the city
3. do lots of traveling
4. buy an Audi TT
5. buy an Alaskan husband


Top 5 Locations I'd run away to:

1. Tahiti
2. Egypt
3. Scandinavia
4. Greek Islands
5. New Orleans


5 Bad habits I have:

1. clenching my fists when i talk
2. grinding my teeth
3. holding other people to my anal standards
4. not wanting to take enough risks
5. mothering boyfriends
(*note: i am getting better at all of these...at doing them less, that is...)


5 Things I like Doing:

1. sleeping
2. swimming
3. drinking wine with my girls
4. dancing
5. kissing


5 Things I would Never Wear:

1. anything strapless
2. those underwear with sides so skinny that they leave dents in your flesh. mmm, attractive...
3. mustard yellow
4. blonde highlights
5. lucite shoes


5 TV Shows I like:

Those still on the air

1. Law & Order (preferably the Bricoe and Logan years)
2. Medium
3. America's Next Top Model
4. What not to wear
5. Pimp my ride

Those no longer on the air

1. The Facts of Life
2. Degrassi
3. Wonder Woman
4. Charlie's Angels
5. Ghostwriter...fuck off! i had a crush on Rob....


5 Movies I like:

1. Moonstruck
2. Sin City
3. Saved
4. Anaconda
5. Sleeping Beauty


5 Books I like:

1. Griffin and Sabine -Nick Bantock
2. Caucasia -Danzy Senna
3. The Diviners -Margaret Lawrence
4. Meridian -Alice Walker
5. anything Dick & Jane....see silly Sally...


5 Famous people I'd like to Meet:

1. Jessica Alba
2. Ewan McGregor
3. Seth Green
4. Bettie Page
5. Wonder Woman


5 Biggest Joys at the Moment:

1. bellinis
2. good girlfriends
3. crushes
4. feeling attractive
5. making my bad rap cd

Dear Mister dead Melvil Dewey,

What the fuck is up with the fucking 500s? Because there seem to be more books in that goddamn section than anywhere else in your lovely decimal system and it's really irking my nerves. And it's all the fault of the animals. So perhaps a better person to ask about the problem would be God. God, why all the animals? Because I'm sick of filing books about them. And for some reason, children seem to like animals a lot, I'm not really sure why, but it's making my job really fucking boring. Why can't we just have 10 animals or something? I think we should just have:

1) cats
2) dogs
3) horses
4) ducks
5) rabbits
6) tigers
7) giraffes
8) elephants
9) crocodiles
10) dolphins

...because that's all we really need. Who cares about manatees or chinchillas or armadillos or marsupials? Having 10 animals would really make things easier; some kid would ask for a book on lemurs and I'd say, "kid, there no such thing...how bout a book on kittens?" and be on my merry way. And I wouldn't be wasting my time on pandas, koalas, polarbears, and fucking dinosaurs. Hell, who cares about dinosaurs, they've been extinct for how long? Seriously, just let it go people!

Some day, if I am ever in charge of a library, I will just leave out the 500s entirely and give the hand to anyone who asks about squirrels and play dumb when someone wants a book about wombats. Were you expecting the 500s? Well you've come to the wrong library bitch! Maybe one of those newfangled bookstores will have a book, but I doubt it because wombats don't exist you stupid fuck...or didn't you get that memo? There would, however, be books about cows, pigs, and chickens but only in the 640s under recipes because I don't really give a shit about cows other than my steak and leather shoes.

It also doesn't help that things like air and caves and fossil and rainforests are also in the 500s. Like the damn gazillion animals weren't enough for me to worry about it! It's as though you weren't thinking when you did this. But you're dead and can't fix your huge mistake. Great.

Sincerely hating you right now during library inventory prep,

Ago-go

jeremy sisto will be in town shooting a movie this summer...

if i do not find another job soon, i have decided that my summer job will be to stalk him and make him love me. i think that is a worthwhile cause, no?

this weekend i....

started drinking beer right after school ended on friday

helped to consume 6 bottles of wine on saturday night and somehow managed to not get ill

walked by ashton's building and put a pox on his apartment (audible to people on the street and complete with arm waving and hex-like gesticulations). and to display their support for me, my loving friends were armed with a candle to throw at his balcony...although they didn't because he lives on the 7th floor and they couldn't throw that far. but it's the thought that counts!

threatened to kick a guy's ass because i was feeling 'feisty'

had a living room dance party to gwen stefani, 2 Live Crew, basement jaxx, and other music played way too loud

decided to make a cd of the worst rap songs ever...i'm open to suggestions....

drank more wine and watched people try to shoot a short film in the back alley while it was raining

broke a martini glass with my bony-ass elbow!

had a discussion about tea-bagging

stayed up til 5am on sunday morning and watched the sky turn purple

had the motherfucking craziest dreams ever

washed two cars

got annoyed that 'the boy' didn't call me

got annoyed at myself for getting annoyed that 'the boy' didn't call me

decided that i am a sorry-ass and need to forget about him, pronto

because erin asked so nicely (you owe me nachos girl, i'm not joking...)

here's the whole shebang, garish makeup and all (it looks a little funny because i had to crop my friend out...)

sigh, this is for os....and no, it's not a picture of my backside!

here's my contribution to hnt....my stomach after a belly dancing show.

i'd like to say a few words...

(it was so painful....like the arm wrestling all over again...the first time with the uncle, not this past sunday with 'the boy')


when someone stands up and says, "I'd like to say a few words..." it is secret code for,

"I am about to get up and speak some crazy-ass bullshit. I might start off making sense, but don't you worry, I will soon take you on a long, oratory train wreck that will cause you to wonder, despite the fact that we are at an event that serves only coffee, tea, and raspberry cordial, if i am drunk. And I may very well be drunk, maybe i'm carrying a flask in the pocket of my strange tweed jacket, you don't know! But you still can't stop me. Ha ha!

With the best of intentions, I will tell stories that:

A) at most only peripherally relate to the event at hand, (in this case, a wedding shower)

B) have no relation to one another,

and

C) are guaranteed to offend at least half the audience.


I will probably throw in some sentimental shit for good measure (and so that you feel bad for getting impatient with my speech) and will conclude with a mostly unrelated toast that is intended to:

A) weakly mop up all the bullshit i spewed all over the floor...more like smear it in a thin layer all over the floor,

B) try to distract you from my convoluted rant,

and

C) attempt to fool you into believing that my monologue was actually for the benefit of someone other than myself. Oh, how I love the sound of my own voice. Cheers."

if you hear these words, you will want to run and hide. if you can take cover, please do so, you'll be much better off in the bathroom than at the front of the room where everyone can see your confused looks and stifled laughter faces.

ago-go's no-no? don't worry, there was no sex...but there was arm wrestling.

with all the fucked up changes and uncertainty in my life lately, i really just wanted to go somewhere where everything would be the same as it always has been. my answer to that; the semi-dive bar where my ex-boyfriend plays on sundays and, conveniently, where 'the boy' (whom i haven't seen since my Juno sign-carrying embarrassment episode) regularly hangs out.

my friend S decided to come along with me. we were just going to drop by, stay for a set and then header. oh, how wrong i was. i walked into the room and the bass player nearly had a heart attack and my ex looked quite surprised...not really surprising since most of those people hadn't seen me in 6 months.

everything was the same: drunk elvis look-a-like was hammered and screaming for the band to play Wipeout, the same waitresses were there, there were still no handles on the bathroom taps (people kept stealing them), and several old, drunk, horrible men told me i was the most beautiful woman in the room (that wasn't much of a compliment)...however, 'the boy' wasn't there and i found myself sort of disappointed because i looked very cute. what the fuck is wrong with me....

about an hour into things 'the boy' walks in with his friend M. he sees me and is all shocked but won't come over until his friend finally makes him. he kinda looks at me sheepishly and asks how i'm doing and then quickly goes to sit down. but all night long he's fucking looking over at me...i swear i caught him staring at me every 5 minutes or so, but he wouldn't come over and talk. M kept coming over and making jokes about how 'the boy' and i used to have drinking competitions. i told M that 'the boy' was a fucking wimp and that anyone could easily kick his ass. i suggested that he and M arm wrestle. M said that i should do it and called over 'the boy' to see if he was willing. he was wary but i was all, "hell, let's go!" so we go arm wrestle and we're pretty evenly matched. then this girl starts licking his arm and distracting him and because we're on the same side of the table my arm starts slipping off. a fucking train wreck of a wrestling match i say. but i still won. and while we're doing this, the band starts changing the lyrics of the song to something about asses getting kicked. yeah, don't know what came over me.

so after all the drinks that were fed to me, i had to stay til close so that i could safely drive home. the bass player, who hates everything and everyone, gave me a big hug. M wanted me to come back next week and 'the boy' kept staring. i don't know if i had an alcohol-influenced momentary lapse of reason but i told him to call me. do i regret doing that? not yet. will i regret it soon enough? maybe.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

oh, and a side note to the ladies: Old Navy 'Tiny Tees' fucking reel the boys in. never have i had so many man men saying "that blue is such a beautiful colour on you" while staring at my breasts. for 10$ each, i'm buying one in every colour!

i think i may have made a major fuck up tonight...

however, i am a wee bit intoxicated so maybe i didn't make a bad bad decision that will kick my ass in the morning. let's hope

actual email conversation with my friend R about the breakup...

My first email:

the 11th is fine with me. i think i will need to get drunk again very soon. tell B that i really need thoses flowers...i got dumped last night. fucking boys.

a


R's reply:

A, I am so sorry to hear about what happened with James. That sucks! I am looking forward to next week.

R


My reply to her:

justin, not james, but thanks R....i'm glad you're able to forget his name so quickly.

a


the extra funny thing is that we do have a good friend named james (whom i've never dated) and i saw him last night. i asked him if he had dumped me over the phone too and maybe i had just forgotten. he said that he had emailed R and told her to tell me that he was dumping me. i bought him a beer.

the telephone conversation in which i was dumped

ashton and i had been out on monday night and had a great time. i left him a message on tuesday night saying that we should get together wednesday. i had had a really emotionally bad day at work thinking about my dad and how i don't feel safe with all the uncertainty in my life. by 9pm i still hadn't heard from ashton, he phones about 9:15. i tell him that i had a shitty day and am feeling sad and stressed but he doesn't have much to say. here's how the rest of the convo went:


ashton: so tell me what's wrong, what kind of things are stressing you out?

me: i just have really irrational fears about being abandoned right now....

ashton: do you want to 'take a break'?

me: huh? did i say that? no, i don't want to take a break! i really like you. what i would like is to know where you're at because you're so laid back (read: stoned), i'm never sure...

ashton: well, i don't think i have time to be a very good boyfriend right now...

me: what?

ashton: i mean i'm really busy with coaching soccer and i want to start playing more and that doesn't really leave time for a social life.

me: huh?....so what you're saying is that you don't want me as a girlfriend...

ashton: ummmm....

me: ....because otherwise, you'd make the time.

ashton: uhhhhh, well, and we're also at really different points in our lives....

me: what the fuck are you talking about? what point in my life am i at? do you even know? have you ever even asked me?

ashton: no, i guess not....so, uh, what point in your life are you at?

me: why bother asking since you've obviously already made up your mind?

ashton:...yeah, i guess you're right. i'm also not really over my ex-girlfriend (who dumped him in october, moved to quebec, has a new boyfriend, and he repeatedly said was bad for him)...

me: uh huh....

ashton: and we really don't have much in common....

me: what are you talking about?

ashton: well, i love watching wrestling....

me: do you think i'm so shallow that i only date people what have the exact same interests as me? people don't have to have everything in common you know.

ashton: it was going well for the first little while, then it wasn't so great.

me: not so great huh? were you planning on telling me any of this bullshit anytime soon?

ashton: well, probably in the next couple days...

me: silence.....

ashton: well, i guess this is it....

me: apparently so.

ashton: take ca....

me: hanging up on him

egan, are you a believer now?

me ....




me again...



me again...



not me, but wish it was me...

dumped, over the phone.

i know he wasn't "the one" so i'm not upset about that, i will find someone else. i'm mad because he didn't even have the respect and decency to dump me in person and pretended up until the end that everything was ok. i'll tell you all about the lame-ass, lying-boy bullshit reasons for ditching this beautiful catch of a canadian girl later when i'm less mad.

...and i never told y'all but the fucker was smoking drugs. good fucking riddance.

it's over.

hey Body Shop!

i've got 'sassy' and 'elegant' down, now what's the invent your scent combo for 'stupid insecure idiot girl who is having such a motherfucking hard time dealing with the inevitable uncertainty of her new relationship that it's stressing her out and making her cry'...huh body shop?...tell me that!