Star Jasmine. You captivate me with your siren scent. Your pale pinks. Your Spider Man like wall-climbing ability. Your… star-y-ness. You took me by surprise, but you had me at “hello, flower” on that morning jog. Who are you? Where did you come from? Don’t tell me. You fell from Heaven, obviously. I’m so transfixed on you, I look for you everywhere. I think I smell you and then you’re nowhere to be seen. How do you do that!… You minx. I want to share everything with you. Like how I hated leggings until I got here and saw people wearing them in all different ways… and now I wear them. Too. They’re like fashionable sweatpants. To be honest, I even have my eye on jeggings. I don’t know myself anymore – pants? Tights? No pants? — I’m like a giddy schoolgirl! And, also how I thought Trader Joe’s had no selection and never gave it a shot and now I’m singing the praises of individually packaged TJ’s beets. And $2.99 cartons of blueberries. And chocolate at the register I didn’t think I needed, but I do, Jasmine, I do. What is this new world you’ve opened up to me? Spring? Summer? Where am I? Life is so much smellier with you in it. In a good way. Now that we’ve found each other, I hardly remember what Ranunculus even smells like or how he spells his name… Or what Peony ever meant to me. It’s you, Jasmine. Only you.