Les quatre cents...

Dear Marc, this is letter 400. I hope that's ok by you.
By me, it's fine too, only thing is I don't have a single important thing to say to mark such an important day.

This is my life today:

Must write draft for web campaign.

Must find important background on sweet smelling body lotions.

Must remember my brother's upcoming b-day.

Must set date for return to Sweden.

Must finish work to be able to spend an hour in the sun with my man.

I will smell great, but perhaps not exactly the way he'd wish.
The other day, I visited a Bonpoint-store and since Joel wrecked half the store, I felt obliged to buy something, as a gesture of my peaceful nature and mature standing.

I looked around but could only find delicate, expensive pieces of clothing only sleeping children might wear without spoiling.

I might as well eat my cash with a little ketchup on.

In the end though, I found an item that an adult could use, although the bottle stated in contained perfume pour enfants.

It was such an insane thought, I had to buy it. Besides, in the store it had that perfect lemon drop scent I've tried to find for years. But as we returned home, it turned out to smell very much like the Annick Goutal scents I already have. And sure enough, she was the creator of this scent too! Turns out she's the sister of the Bonpoint founders or something like that.

I'll never forget the first time I wore Annick Goutal's Eau de Sud. Anders looked all confused and said "what's that smell? it smells just like that stuff they use to clean the men's room."

Not the reaction you hope for after shelling out whatever you pay for a bottle of French perfume.

And now I've done it again.

I'd better just start cutting a lemon in half and rub myself with it.

And if you run into urinal smelling kids, don't be alarmed. They're probably mine, freshly sprayed with baby cologne to take away that adorable smell of babysoft skin, silky hair and overall goodness that goes with childhood. Who'd want that? Not the French!

love
-e