If Roses Could Vomit...
Real roses sent to me by Mr. Crabby do not stink. They make me happy, not sick. Rose potpourri, rose soaps, rose candles, rose anything other than real roses, however, emit a migraine-inducing, bile-rising stench. Why do people insist on misting this crap in public places?

On Saturday, Aluminum Sister (aka Foamy Kimmy) and I went through the Diana, Princess of Wales exhibit downtown. Part of the exhibit is "scented" with this rose crap - blah blah blah, she was "England's Rose", blah blah blah, I get it, but I nearly fainted from nausea.

In a department store, I expect to be bombarded with different scents. In church, in a marketplace, in a mechanic's garage... these are places where one might encounter different "smells". I did not expect this at an exhibit of a dead woman's dresses, books, photos, and other effects.

I love perfume, when used conservatively in appropriate ways/places. This was not the place, nor was the scent used conservatively. If roses could vomit, that's what I smelled.

The exhibit, however, was great, if you have $25 burning a hole in your pocket and are interested in her life. Afterwards, we stuffed our faces with dim sum, which was also great. Then we cruised the Art Gallery of Ontario, to walk off the dumplings. By then, we were finally rid of the the repugnant smell of rose barf. Even Chinatown smelled better, and that's saying something.