I don’t have many vices. I don’t peel off other people’s sunburnt skin, I don’t smoke, do drugs, buy designer handbags, order dessert or watch any of the Real Housewives or the Kardashians (am I missing out?). I do, however, love getting tipsy in the bath. Usually (but not always) alone…
Getting drunk in the bath: There’s just something so comforting about running a hot bubble bath and sinking into the inviting, effervescent water with a cool glass of wine. I can’t hold my liquor at the best of times, but drinking a glass or two of wine in the bath, combined with the heady heat of the water, makes that alcohol take immediate effect. Add in some good tunes playing in the background, usually Scottish crooner Paolo Nutini (I love taking a bath with Paolo) and before long I’m in that lovely tipsy place, where you think you are utterly charming, fabulous and hilarious (I wish I could be that version of myself all the time - just without the red face).
I highly recommend this relaxing activity if you find yourself at a loose end of an evening ;)
Bribing my children to brush my hair: If slavery hadn’t been abolised in Sweden, there’s a good chance I would have a slave to brush my hair. Don’t get me wrong, they would be treated with utter kindness (I’m not the whipping type), and they would not have to sleep in the slave quarters. They would just be at my beck and call to brush my hair whenever I so wished. If I was tired, stressed, hangry or anxious, I could just call on my lovely hair slave and they would happily brush my hair and voilà, I would instantly feel relaxed and happy.
In the absence of a hair slave, I have from time to time, bribed my children with ice-cream or money, or letting them stay up later if they brushed my hair. Surely I’m not the only mother who does this? Right? RIGHT? Luck was on my side once when a friend from Ireland came to visit for a weekend, and I couldn’t believe the words that came out of her mouth: “Sandra, do you want me to brush your hair?”. “Do I ever,” I said and ran to get her a brush. 15 minutes later (I’d hoped she’d last longer, but arm cramp set in), she put down the brush, I said goodnight and fell into the kind of sleep that can only come after a session of expert hair brushing. ‘Nuff said.
Crying to Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah: Every so often, I’ll bottle up all my emotions and they will quietly bubble away beneath the surface. Usually the best release for me is to cry and let it all out, but sometimes the tears will refuse to flow and I’ll feel like I’m going to explode with unexpressed emotions. Cue Jeff Buckley. RIP Jeff. I’ll lie down and listen to his haunting version of Hallelujah and almost immediately the floodgates will open and I’ll be sobbing, choking and spluttering on my on own salty tears. I paint a lovely picture, don’t I? So although the Jeff/Hallelujah/crying experience isn’t enjoyable at the time, the release that comes after is worth it (the puffy eyes not so much). So if you’re feeling emotionally blocked, have a good old cry to Hallelujah, You’ll Never Walk Alone, or I Will Always Love You, or whatever gets you feeling all the feels. And just let it all out ;)
I realise none of the above is photography related, but so what. Hopefully you don’t mind me sharing my random thoughts and musings. Better out than in, right? ;)