Beaut.ie-ful

I love love love shoe/fashion/beauty blogs, and I recently came across a really good 'un which is - wait for it! - homegrown to boot! Most of the truly great blogs I come across are written in Blighty or Stateside, which can be annoying when they rave about brands we just can't flippin' get here in the Emerald Isle [no, not even with d'internet, smart arse]. With that in mind, behold beaut.ie, the Irish beauty blog run by self-confessed product sluts and sisters, Aisling and Kirstie McDermott. I came across the site quite by accident but it is now superglued onto my Favourites list. How could anyone not love an Irish beauty blog that is posted to lovingly a couple of times a day [these girls are an inspiration!] and features, among other fabulous things, a DIY section with a recipe for home-made pore cleansing strips! Bravo, ladies.

Now, where did I put that gelatine...

Sick days: so overrated.

'member how I was saying on Thursday that I wasn't feeling the Mae West? Well, on Satuday morning, I went from feeling a bit *pluh* to having a full-blown man flu [not just a cold, you see] with a large dollop of sinusitus thrown in for good measure. I spent the entire weekend dragging myself between my bed and the couch and feeling thoroughly exhausted at the exertion, while downing max strength Lemsip and Rubex like they were going out of fashion. Still, it was freezing and wet and really stormy out so it was a bit of an indoorsy/TV weekend anyways, and at least Himself was there to keep me company and mind me and pretend that my pyjamas/dressing gown/deathly pallor look was really a winning combination. So I guess it could've been worse.

And then on Monday morning, it was worse.

I woke up with a pounding soreness in my sinuses and a horrible groggy feeling all over. I made it about as far as the bedroom door before I had to crawl back into bed and lie down. So, I rang in sick to work. And I gotta tell ya: sick days are seriously overrated. I guess if you're the type of person who "pulls sickies" to go shoe shopping as opposed to using your sick days when you're actually ill, then you'll think I'm a crazy person for saying that. But I was bored out of my head all day. I couldn't sleep so I got up, and I think that was my first big mistake. I couldn't watch TV or listen to the radio because they were giving me a headache, and I couldn't read because there isn't a book, newspaper or trashy magazine in the house that I haven't already read forty times. And as if the stultifying boredom wasn't awful enough, I had to brew my own Lemsip! Anytime I'd been off work sick in the past, I was living at home, so there was always someone to provide me with Lemsip or a bit of toast or the current issue of In Style on demand. And there was always someone to talk to; sure even the dog and the fish were good for a chat if you were feverish enough. So there is a definite downside to having your own place that no-one ever talks about. Oh sure, you can come and go as you please and nobody asks where you're going or what time you'll be home at, but the trade-off is that there is no-one to look after you if you're sick.

And if there's one thing worse than being on your own when you're absolutely dying and feeling totally miserable, it's having it happen to you two flippin' days in a row. That's right, I was off today as well. I cannot buh-lieve how much I want to go to work tomorrow!

P.S. The party on Friday night was pretty good - the tan, nails, and outfit all came together which is always nice and I was very well behaved; left at 1am and had no hangover on Saturday morning [so I was struck down with sickness in punishment for not drinking enough, it seems. Huh.]

Nooooo shoooooooes...

Right, well I bought a [very bloody expensive] pair of shoes last night to go with one of the LBDs. There are no pics of them to steal borrow on the River Island website, so I can't show you what they're like and see what you think. I'm now a bit worried that I was running a fever when I bought them and terrified that I'll wear them tonight because I can't go barefoot to the part-ay but will shove them in the back of my wardrobe in the morning which is where they will be doomed to malinger for evermore because the fever will have lifted and I'll have realised that they're absolutely, totally, unforgivably hick.

Anyways, they are black d'Orsay pumps, with a peep toe and a 3" heel. For the benefit of Himself and the many shoe ignorami that I'm sure are out there [although I don't know any, but it takes all sorts], the d'Orsay is basically a shoe in which the sides are cut away to reveal the arch and usually the outside of the foot, and consist only of the essential heel support and toe. Y'know, the kind of shoe that your Dad would roar laughing at, while telling you to "go back to the shop, they're after forgetting to give you the rest of that shoe!"

Well, I think they're lovely, Dad. At the moment.

Gulp!