Nasal alert! 7 things that I...

... like the smell of:

- Honey. ("Buzz," said the bee, as it pollinated the flower.)
- Fresh grass. ("Buzz," said the lawnmower, as it razed the flower and guillotined the bee.)
- The sea.
- Burnt sugar. (Unfortunately, it's more of a hey-what's-cooking?-Oh.-It's-you scent than a dab-on-your-wrist-[of-all-places!-Isn't-the-world-odd?]-and-smell-nice-for-the-evening scent. And I think I just killed the dash. Oops.)
- Books.
- Baked goods straight out of the oven.
- Woolly jumpers. (Call it nostalgia for those few fleeting childhood years in the Northern Hemisphere.)

... hate the smell of:

- Petrol. (Or is it diesel? Never stuck around long enough to find out. The fumes make me dizzy.)
- Bleach.
- That funny, punguent, musty smell in badly-kept museums. (This is related to the woolly jumpers one above... when I was a child in France, we lived in a village near the Chateau de Versailles, and it was a pretty popular day trip in both my parents' minds and the minds of my school. I must have gone there at least five times in two years. Anyways, the interior of the chateau is still stocked largely with the exact same furniture that played grace to King Louis XVI, and even if you were skeptical as only a little child can be you'd have to admit that it sure as hell smelled like it.)
- The plug-in mosquito repellant gizmos.
- Airplane cabins. (Which is why I steal half the magazines on offer on the way to my seat, so I can bury myself in them until takeoff and forget about the stink. Doesn't make me terribly popular with the rest of the passengers, though. But screw them Which is a bit of a shame.)
- Chlorine.
- Unwashed PE uniforms. Oh dear God no.

~Mnemosyne