Sarah Jessica Parker and me. . . practically twins!

Hey, I don't usually use my vast blogging influence to plug products, and I want you to know that I'm not getting any kick backs for the following testimonial.

I'm in love. Yes. It's true. A couple of weekends ago my friend and I decided to celebrate Nevada Day (Yep, it's a real thing. . . and we got off of work for it) by getting the heck out of Nevada. We went to Southern California to visit old friends (literally, my friend Jill is now 30 and officially old) and to be in California. We had a great time both days, but on Saturday, we went shopping in Pasadena and I got to visit a little place I like to call Lush, 'cause that's it's name.



for those of you who've never had the pleasure of visiting Lush, it is a wonderland of skin care. I bought a couple of bath bombs (there's little in life that I like as much as a good bath). One is called the "Butter Ball". For a little holiday variety they've made a version of the bomb in the shape of a snowman called "Mr. Butterball". I bought this one 'cause it was cheaper, and I'm kinda cheap. When I first visited Lush with my best friend a few years ago we were informed that this particular bath bomb is one preferred by Sarah Jessica Parker. Now, I've never met the woman, so I don't know how the recommendation was supposed to impress me. I'm going to have to take it on faith and the word of a girl with multiple piercings and blue hair that her skin is silky and smooth as a baby's bottom.

Lest some of my readers think I can be won over with this Hollywood tabloid salesmanship (you know who you are. . . )I didn't buy the bomb because of that recommendation, but rather because it promised me silky soft skin.

Last night I used "Mr. Butterball" for my bath. Unlike every man in my life (other than my dear father and brothers) Mr. Butterball lived up to every promise he made me. My skin is so silky and smooth that I couldn't resist stroking my own arms from time to time today when no one was looking (I hope).

I"m decided that even though I'd have to go through life with the unfortunate name Mrs. Butterball, and my husband would be in the Las Vegas sewer system as we speak, I want to marry Mr. Butterball. I do. Maybe THIS is the answer to the Man Plan.