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There's a strong smell of honeysuckle in the air in East Tennessee these days.  At least if you're anywhere near any vegetation. 

The good news is that it means summer has arrived.  The bad news is that I can't stand the smell of honeysuckle.  I don't know why but it has a sickly sweet smell to me.  In some vague way it reminds me of the smell of a hospital.  That's not something I like either. 

It's a little strange but I can tolerate some really vile smells.  I can drive by a sewage plant and hardly notice it.  Before the EPA stopped it the paper mill in town used to smell bad but it really didn't bother me either.  But for some reason sweet smells irritate my nose.  Some flowers I find to be pretty repulsive--just because they smell too "sweet".

I'm normal with food smells--bacon, bread, coffee in the morning, steaks on the grill--those types of things all smell great to me.  Other food smells can gag me.  Liver of any type can literally gag me to point of upchucking.  That was the only food in basic training that I didn't eat.  I still haven't and won't.  I'll starve before I eat liver.  Fish smells bother me.  I think I could eat more seafood if it weren't for the way it smells.  I like the taste of most seafood but can't tolerate the smell.

I like perfume on a woman but only if it's not overpowering.  Some women seem to wear too much but for me just a hint can "get me excited and leave me confused".  I couldn't tell you the name of any perfume except Chanel No. 5.  That's what Mrs. Medlock wears most of the time.  It's a subtle smell.  I think it's perfect for her.  Sometimes I'll smell perfume on a woman and I think it doesn't match her personality or looks.  But I couldn't possibly tell you why I think that.

I think my nose is one of my better attributes.  Not it's size or looks but it's function.  I think I can smell pretty good--meaning differentiating of smells, etc.  I should have found a job that I could use my nose--like George on Seinfeld did as a hand model.  I missed my calling.

June 2, 2008 in Life | Permalink


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