Skin care, jewellery and tupperware.

I'm going to a skin care "party" tonight.  First it's not a party.  There is no music, no balloons, no sleazy guy in the corner, not even a cake.  It's a sales pitch.  Throw in a glass of cheap wine and some crappy dip you found at the back of your fridge and all of a sudden you have a party.  Not likely. 

I'm a little bit fragile today.  My social calendar is currently full of such "parties".  To me this indicates I have no life and I'll do anything that reminds me of days past when I used to go to real parties that didn't require you to discuss the merits of certain types of plastic.  Tonight should be a corker though.  They're apparently going to show us how some jars of cream and bottles of potions will stop us looking older.  What a crock.  But you know what?  I'll buy something.  I always do. It's not that I'm a sucker...far from it...it's just my way of saying thanks for inviting me.  Thanks for giving me a night out and giving me a glass of shit wine and letting me devour your not-quite-off dip. 

A friend posted on her Facebook status today that she was looking forward to her "girls night out" tonight.  I was a bit jealous for a minute before I realised she's coming to the "party" tonight.  See, I never thought of it as a girls night out.  Firstly, when it's at someone's house, it's a night in. Secondly, there's always that underlying pressure of listening, sampling and nodding politely that for me just makes it painful to be at, and that's not what a girls night out should be.  It should be about a nice meal, a few drinks and avoiding getting glassed at Swell.  Now, THAT's a girls night out.

And then of course there's the hit up at the end.  They all want ME to hold a party.  No way sister.  It ain't happening.  I'll happily drag my sorry arse to someone else's house, but having one myself is just scraping the barrel for me.  I might as well have a flashing neon sign over my head saying "pick me, I've used up all my girl's night out party invitations so have to resort to having one myself.  Please come.  It'll be embarrasing if no one turns up.  I'll even supply cheap champagne."  That's one expensive neon sign.

But I guess this is my life now.  I do miss the days when I had a night out for no reason.  Not to celebrate someone's birthday, or to go to a tupperware party, or to celebrate a special occasion.  Just a night out for the sake of it.  At least if I did that now I could wear my Moodi dress, my Esteem jewellery and wear my $200 face cream.  Then I'd come home and nibble a few nuts out of my Tupperware container and go to sleep on my Lorraine Lea sheets.  I guess these girl's night's aren't a waste after all.