Squashed Tomatoes and Stew

Last weekend I hosted a birthday party, because it was my birthday.

I don’t usually resort to such hedonism, but it was excellent to have all my friends in one place, and to dance with them, and to go to bed feeling lucky and blessed.

And the next day, with a hangover, Rose Bombshell, which I never really liked the first time – Just.  So.  Much.  Rose. – but a good friend gifted me one, and its smell was permeating the flat, and it just felt like the right one and, indeed, everything was very pink, but I was too hungover to care, and I bathed in roses, probably whilst I was still drunk.

Bathing is very good for palsied muscles but, then again, so is gin.  It’s a muscle relaxant.

It’s been a funny few weeks.  It just has.  I had to do some adulting.  I had to have some Very Serious Conversations.  There were some successes.  There were some failures.  There was sleep, but maybe not enough.

And baths.  The post-birthday bath was followed by another one the same day:  Boo! bath melt.  You can’t go wrong with Boo! if you like ginger, which I do, sometimes.  Cosmetics To Go’s ginger perfume used to be my signature scent, in the days when I had a signature scent, which were also the days when I wore too much mascara and did not understand what men see when they see mini skirts.  These days, I think it’s a bit much, but sometimes it’s not, and the other night, Boo! was like a big, inappropriate hug.

I have good friends.  I am lucky.  I am tired.  I am trying to decide if I am the kind of woman who has time to go and get her chipped shellac repaired.  Right now, I probably am.  Just this once.


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