As our blogger/reader relationship continues to grow ever more intimate, I feel the need to come clean about last night and show you what really happened during my birthday festivities.
From now on, no more ruses, just plain-as-Julia-Stiles honesty. I promise.
(don't worry, I watched Dick wash his dose of Coumadin down with my Kir Royale promptly at 10pm)
I have no idea how I made it 26 years without Archipelago's Sugar Cane & Coconut Sugar scrub and Molton Brown's Heavenly Gingerlily Shimmer Oil, but thanks to L2 and L, respectively, my half-Asian stems no longer have to endure a single second without vacation-scented, Brazilian-smooth exfoliation and all-over body glimmer.
This photo - the only blog-appropriate one in the bunch - captured on film my couldn't-be-contained excitement in applying said leg shimmer smack dab in between the Mayflower's baby grand and their turned-to-'Scarborough Country' flat-screen.
While taking turns nibbling on gratis Tiramisu and sipping one of my three raspberry-garnished flutes of Taittinger, I forced myself to stop sending yeah-my-décolletage-baring-vintage-dress-is-hot confirmation looks to several neighboring tables so I could really take in the atmosphere of the evening. Between my perfectly-achieved Champagne buzz and the loyal-to-the-end girls at my side, I thought to myself, "I'm one lucky birthday girl."
Despite a few guy-induced tears and an enragingly long wait for a treadmill at the gym, today certainly was a good day.
