One of the best things about going to Brazil, for me, was getting to go through duty free and buying myself a bottle of Chanel No. 5. I have loved that perfume ever since I was 14 and the woman of the house, Gill (utmost in chic and wonderfullness and now a great friend) always wore Chanel. As I inspired to be the utmost in chic too I became a huge fan of No. 5. I never achieved the chic but I do smell fabulous.
I digress, I ran out of Chanel No. 5 two weeks ago and rejoiced in going to Brazil because I could buy more, tax free.
But last night I won a bottle of the good stuff, the Parfum!!!!! At a charity night, best €30 I ever spent. So now I don't have to get into a metal tube and have that metal tube spark up and take off and stay, touch wood, in the air for ten and a half hours.
'Cept I do as my brother is getting married and he's my brother and . . . fuck, but I hate flying. It's only 11.20, the day BEFORE, and I have already taken my first, half, Xanax. Himself was shocked to find out that Xanax is a tranquilliser. Looove tranqs.
Oh, and whilst I think of it, my lovely pal Ms. Urban wrote a lovely piece about my panic. She also took the piss out of my 'I'm dead hard, don't feck with me' walk! Yuh, you should see hers. She looks like a jive turkey.
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