Why you should be my friend in real life. Or not.

My beloved friend, Ruth, is visiting Edinburgh this week from her native Northern Ireland and we'd have such fun hanging out. It's surprising I have any friends at all, because I'm always promising to make them stuff and never get around to it. But not this time!

I made Ruth a rather large make-up bag which will probably remain empty because she's so pretty she doesn't need make-up. She can instead fill it with Tayto's as people in Ireland are wont to do.

And a coordinating phone cosy. She does need that one, so she can call me all the time to discuss how much we miss each other. It's lined in flannel so everytime you put the phone in or out it gets a little clean-up.

And I also attempted to return to the good graces of Friend Sarah for not getting her a birthday present by making her a makeup bag too. Also superfluous. You know how everyone's mum tells them they don't need makeup to look good? Friend Sarah's mum was right.

And a phone cosy for her too!

And one for me, obviously. We meet up in town last night to celebrate our new make-up bags and phone cosies.

Ruth's husband should be a professional photographer. Look how he's centred that wine bottle right between my bosoms. Or maybe a paparazzi as the flash has made my shirt transparent.

This picture is scientific proof that my personal happiness is directional proportional to my proximity to Ruth. Do you know how you can tell that you have very, very good friends?

They indulge your fetish for trying on other peoples' glasses.

Pin It

Tweet