Sunday, October 14, 2007

Lamest Party Ever- Finally!

So last night was the Lamest Party Ever. It was a great time, although I think it may very well be the last party that I ever throw. Party planning is a bit too much like work to me. I do events and promotions, and it all starts to meld together after a while. I kind of found myself being kind of bossy to people, as if I was working - and how much fun is that for anyone?

There were about 20 - 25 people there altogether, which is a nice number. I wouldn't have wanted many more than that. The food went over relatively well- I had a fish shaped jell-o mould, fig newtons, Peak Frean creme cookies, and deviled eggs. I'm really craving more deviled eggs now though. I hadn't had any for a long time...they're really good. I'm sorry that I forgot to take a photo of them- I used a pastry bag to pipe in the yolky part and everything!

As for the lame games? Well, the first one was called "Confessions." When each person arrived I hauled them into a room and had them tell me a secret. They ranged from : I tried pot for the first time this year, to I had a crush on Kirk Cameron growing up, to I called in sick to work, but I was actually in Minneapolis at a basketball game...
Then each guest had to draw a "secret" from the bowl and find out who owned that secret. It was a pretty good ice-breaker game that forced people to talk to everyone.

The next game was musical charades- I had a collection of song titles, and people had to act them out. Then people had to sing the answer...
My dear Anon was psychic last night- D3 proclaimed that his title had 10 words, Anon asked if it was an REM song. Yes. "It's the End of the World as We Know it." Yes!? He didn't even have to do any charades...Weird. She ended up doing that several times throughout the night...

Then groups of people had to act out a movie scene and we had to guess what the movie was. This was so popular that we ended up doing 2 rounds of it...My team of course could have used a bit more rehearsal time. (Anon guess right away that our movie was "Pretty Woman" when she saw me hauling out my hooker boots...)

All this while we played New Kids on the Block, Michael Boulton & Paul Abdul in the background. We also watched Skid Row & Bon Jovi videos. (PS. I got Bon Jovi tickets on Friday- Yay! I can't wait for Dec. 9th!)

All in all, I would say that it was a pretty successful party. I WAY over-dressed in a black halter dress, and my new slutty red sling-backs. "Yes" shoes as Zig calls them.

Then everyone got loot bags as they left. A typical loot bag consisted of: a piece of string, a bobby pin, a safety pin, an outdated flyer, perhaps a calculator, an old bookmark or a button.

I was absolutely exhausted by the end of the night, but I think everyone had a pretty good time...
Thanks to everyone who came!!


Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Sex and Veggies

I went to a vegan potluck with K tonight. I felt like a traitor- both to the people at the party, and to myself. I eat meat. K very quietly tried to explain to me the dogma of veganism. She didn't want to get into it there in case they got violent.

Seemed kind of paradoxical to me. People who have such respect for all living things that they won't even eat eggs or honey would get violent if I didn't understand?
So I resisted the urge to say "But honey is bee puke, why can't they eat that? It's not like we, the humans, are forcing the bees into bulimia for the sake of my orange pekoe."
I was proud of my self-restraint.

On the way home K and I started talking about random things, and of course the topic of boys came up. Somehow we ended up talking about my first boyfriend when I was 17 ( "D" of course. Let's call him D the First, or DtF for short.)

I was explaining to K that DtF gave me the sex ultimatum. He calmly explained to me about 2 months into our relationship that if I didn't have sex with him soon I would be forcing him to break up with me. Oh. Well when you put it that way of course I could see how unreasonable I was being. So, being the stupid naive little girl that I was, I put out.

I can't say that I felt much about it either way. I didn't feel used or abused. I just kind of felt like I got it over with. Of course all my girlfriends asked me immediately afterwards "how was it?!"
How should I know? I had nothing to compare it to. I was just pleased that I fit in with the rest of my friends and had accomplished losing my virginity.

He was a bit of a condescending jerk now that I look back on it with a bit more perspective. He would rate my kissing in the beginning. As I was rather a novice at it, he felt that it would be useful to let me know how I was coming along. (N.b. NOT helpful. Humiliating.) He also noted on his calendar "LTC" one day. What does that mean? "Learned to cuddle." Apparently I was coming along nicely in that area too.

I was the only one of my friends in high school to have a job. I worked most weekends, so I missed a lot of parties etc. One Saturday I got a call from my Dear Anon and her friend M. Apparently M and DtF had gone 2 1/2 bases the night before. I could hear M wailing in the background "I'm so sorry Princess!!!" In the meantime DtF had made arrangements to stop by to pick something up on the way to baseball.

I was in shock when DtF arrived from this news of his infidelity. I had put out- what more could I do?
I greeted him at the door with:
"I just got a call from Anon & M."
"Yeah. I figured you would."
*blink blink*
"Well...can you assure me that something like that won't happen again?" (WTF?! Why didn't I dump him on his ass then and there- clearly there were no signs of remorse.)
"I don't know what's going to happen when I'm drunk."

Not the right answer.

Needless to say we broke up shortly thereafter. Even as young and naive as I was, I wasn't a total idiot.

Good Lord, high school boys suck. Anyhow, an amusing memory on the ride home with K that I thought I would share with you all.


Wednesday, August 22, 2007

My Mom

Tomorrow (August, 23) would have been my Mom's 66th birthday, so this post is dedicated to her.

My Mom passed away on January 1, 1987 when I was 11 years old (she was 45). She went into the hospital early in the morning on Christmas Day 1986 and never came back out. She was only one week in the hospital, and I had no idea at the time how bad it was.

To this day, I am still shocked that it happened. I only went to visit her a couple of times, and asked my Dad if I had to keep going as I hated it there. I do remember her saying while she was there that she was planning on taking an extended leave of absence from work for her health, so clearly no one knew that she had such a short time to live. I think the final analysis was congestive heart failure, but I'm honestly not sure of the exact details.

I was always Daddy's little girl, and viewed my Mom as the "bad cop". She had emotional difficulties, and was not consistent in her moods. I do know that I was a cherished and wanted little girl baby though, and she spoiled me rotten.

There are 12 years between me and my brother, and I certainly wasn't an accident. I know that they were trying for me for a long time.

My Mom dressed me better than anyone I knew. I went to private school for my first 5 years of schooling, and when I finally managed to go to public school I immediately saw a difference between me and the other kids. I wore blouses and slacks vs jeans and sweatshirts. I had little diamond rings and earrings vs jelly bracelets. My family certainly wasn't rich, but my Mom just liked buying me things and making me look pretty.

I remember her sitting at the kitchen table with me going over tests that I brought home. She would go through all the answers that I got wrong with me until I understood. I could talk to her for hours about people at school, and teachers etc etc and should would have completely adult conversations with me about it and never look bored with what must have been childish prattle.

Every year on my birthday she would ask me if I wanted a store bought cake, or her chocolate marshmallow layer cake. Every year I wanted the chocolate marshmallow. It wasn't until my step-mom and K & my person made me the same cake for my birthday on other years that I found out what torture it is to make that cake. Everyone has refused to ever do that for me again, but my Mom would not only do it, but
offer to do it year after year.

My Mom would take me on little mini-holidays with her to a hotel in our city. It was just a nice fun little adventure where we could order room service and dress up for dinner.

She was a really creative woman who could cook anything under the sun. One night we would have chili for dinner, and the next night we would all be eating cornish game hens. It was a very eclectic menu.

She also liked throwing parties for me. In grade 5 she invited all my friends over on Valentine's Day for lunch and we had pink heart cookies and sloppy joes and all sorts of goodies. And in Grade 6 she let me throw my first boy-girl party on Halloween. Everyone was dressed up and she bought a zillion decorations and helped me with my witch costume. she lent me one of her black dresses and bought me a cape and pointy hat.

A friend in University told me once that I wear the fact that I lost my Mom clearly on my sleeve. Everyone would know it - I'm the girl who lost her Mom. I don't know how I could have lived my life any differently. I feel the loss of her everyday. I had to become a little grown up so early.

I can't stand it when I hear about people fighting with their parents, or treating them badly. I agree that there are some really crappy people out there who don't deserve to have kids, but I think that most people are just trying their best, and sometimes their own stuff prevents them from doing as good a job raising their children as they would like. Unfortunately it's my one failing as a friend. I don't do well listening to people criticizing their parents, since I would have given anything to have grown up with 2 of them.

My Dad did a fabulous job dealing with a little pre-adolescent girl. I'm sure he had no idea what to do with me, and frequently wished that my Mom had been there to offer a bit of guidance.

I do remember the day she died though. Not in its entirety, but certain flashes with perfect clarity. We were out in the country at my grandmother's. She always had a big dinner on New Year's Day. My Dad never did come, so I went out with my brother. I probably should have found this more unusual since it was my Dad's mother who was hostessing the dinner, but I just accepted it. Then came the phone call.

My Dad called my brother to come to the hospital right away. He hightailed it out of there with his girlfriend leaving me scared and confused. The thought had never occurred to me until that moment that something might be seriously wrong. I mean so serious that she might not make it. I had no idea. I remember crying, and one of my older cousins talking to me. I don't remember what she said- but I do have these vague comforting memories of it.

Then I was taken home by my Grandmother and found a dark empty house. My brother's girlfriend had left a note saying that she couldn't stand to be there alone anymore, and she went to my brother's friend's place to wait.

Then the phone rang.

It was my Dad telling me that my Mom had died. I remember my response was a stupefied "What?" He wouldn't repeat it- he knew that I had heard him the first time. My memories of that night are like jumps in time. First at my Grandmother's. Then flash to my cold dark house. Then flash to an overly bright fluorescent hospital. I was met there by my Dad and brother. I remember my brother asking me to smile for him, and then it's all just a haze.

And after that it's all just a blurry montage of casseroles and Aunts rolling in.

I kept getting told that it hadn't hit me yet, and that suddenly it would. I don't remember any sudden flash of realization, just a slow journey of days following days. I had to learn to adjust. I didn't grow up to be terribly girly, and I was probably mildly maladjusted being raised by two men. I have grown into myself in that aspect (especially the girly part) but it was a long time coming.

It's been 20 years, and I still love and miss my
Mom everyday.

Monday, July 23, 2007

An important philosophical debate with my roommate

My roommate (D) and I do not share food. I think I've already expressed my surprise at anyone who would be willing to do that. I am VERY selfish when it comes to my Hagen Daaz.

And avocadoes. It's weird.

The day he moved in, and I was telling him the rules, I found myself telling him that if he absolutely HAD to steal some of my food, it would be OK, but never to touch the avocadoes. I never knew how protective I was of them before. I suppose I never had to be.

Anyhow, we've gone grocery shopping together a few times, and it's all been very amicable. Then the question arose. Since we share condiments, does he have to buy his own peanut butter and jam?

I was struck dumb. In the grocery store. It was comical. I didn't know how to answer his question.

He eventually decided to buy himself some jam, and to my knowledge just hasn't eaten peanut butter all summer (unheard of in the Princess's world).

However, I am still puzzled by this. Is peanut butter (and jam, and even chocolate syrup) a condiment or a food in and of itself?

One wouldn't eat a mayonaise sandwich is my argument, so I say that it's a food. However, you wouldn't want to necessarily eat it alone (although I have been known to eat spoonfuls of peanut butter as a snack, or the syrup when I'm having a really bad craving) so does that imply that it's a condiment?

I looked up the definition of a condiment: A substance, such as a relish, vinegar, or spice, used to flavor or complement food.

By that definition, I would agree that chocolate syrup is a condiment. (I'm still not sure that I'm willing to share it though).

However, what about the peanut butter? It IS the sandwich. Without it, you're just eating bread...

I would like to take a poll: Peanut Butter (& Jam)
Condiment or Food?

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Warning: serious post ahead.

I know, I know- 2 posts in one day...this is an actual serious post about something that I've thought a lot about over the years, and would like to get off my chest.

When you take Psychology in University, you tend to diagnose yourself with everything, most of it completely untrue.

One thing that I did learn about myself was that I was a high self-monitorer (sp?)- i.e. I am constantly analyzing my self-presentation and adjust it to others' ideals and to fit the situation. This might be a good thing- but not necessarily when you're so preoccupied with adjusting your own behaviour that you're doing everything for the perception of others' and not for yourself. One can never be completely comfortable living this way.

However, the benefit to this behaviour is that you are generally acting the way people want you to. You rarely offend people, and are generally well thought of. It's a pretty fast journey to popularity, even though it's frequently at your own expense.

This sort of behaviour also rarely leads to vices and addictions. Those are socially unacceptable.

So, since I generally get along with people, and am constantly analyzing what I "should" be doing and how I "should" be acting, I am frequently taken aback when I see people so blatantly the opposite.

This leads me to the point of this post: 12-step programs and how they affect the non-members.

I'm sure most of us have known someone in our lives who have suffered from some sort of addiction. The person that I'm thinking of was schizophrenic and this led to drugs and alcohol and eventually jail.

I was friendly with this person while they were in the Remand Centre - but it eventually led me to developing "relationships" with other members at the Centre, and then all sorts of other problems followed. Up until that point I had been the perfect child, friend and student. I had to do a lot of damage control, had to tell my father what I had gotten involved in, and apologise to a lot of people as a result of this one "friendship."

After it was over I just wanted to forget about it. Even now, 14 years later it is a part of my history that I wish I could erase.

However, the original "friend" (we were never even that close to begin with) joined AA. And as you may or may not know- one of the "steps" is to call up EVERYone that you've ever wronged and apologise to them. I don't quite know if the purpose is to gain absolution, or if it is a way of punishing themselves for what they've done wrong. Maybe both.

So, I got my call. I tried to be as gracious as I could- but really all I wanted to do was get off the phone as quickly as possible. I'm certain that the members of the program must be warned by their mentors that not everyone will necessarily be forgiving or want to hear from them. In retrospect I think it might have been more kind to give my caller a more honest response. However I am not rude by nature, and I felt that I had to take responsibility for my own actions.

I had wanted to forget all about it, and getting that call just brought up all those feelings of guilt and shame again. And then my "caller" went to the same University that I did. I didn't want to see him. I couldn't handle being gracious and interested in his life on an on-going basis.

So he eventually stopped trying to talk to me (to my shame and relief) and told my dear Anon what a bitch I was. Anon and I ran into him at the movies not too long ago and he wouldn't even look at me. He just spoke with her and walked away.

So, my question is- what do these 12 steps accomplish? Maybe they give some sort of peace to the addict, but at what cost to those who have suffered with or because of them? One could argue that it's better to apologise than to not apologise, but is it?

Is it right to force someone to have that conversation with you when maybe all they want to do is forget? The natural thing to do is say "it's OK" when someone apologises to you, but often it really isn't.

Anon and I were talking about this person the other day, and just the mention of his name makes me feel badly. I don't have one good memory associated with him. And I do rather blame the AA. If he hadn't been forced to call me to make "amends" and I hadn't felt compelled to be kind, then he would probably have never felt that we should have ever been on a friendly basis again.

Has anyone else ever gotten that call? How did you feel? Did the apology give YOU any kind of resolution?

Thursday, May 31, 2007

The Anonymous Commenter...

I have a few friends from high school - 4 if I'm counting correctly. 2 of whom I don't see too often. One is my person, whom you hear about all the time.

The other one would be known to all of you as "The Anonymous Commenter."

Anonymous, my person and I met in the change room of Grade 10 gym class. We started talking about Dean Koontz books. Apparently we were all literate.

I never really thought that I was "cool" enough for Anonymous. She was one of the "smokers."
Now there were 2 smoking doors in our school. One for the preppy/popular kids and the "Banger" smoking doors. Anon's choice was the Banger smoking doors. She would ask our Bio teacher to go to the bathroom, and have a cigarette. It's hard to hide the smell of fresh smoke, so the teacher would frequently make comments about it either when she got back, or even before he gave her permission to go.

What's funny about Anon choosing the banger smoking doors is that she went through our entire high school career calling me a "Banger wannabe" as if it was a bad thing. Probably because I was unwilling to commit. I was a fan of the hair bands, but wasn't into the lifestyle (smoking, cutting class, hanging out at the mall food court etc.) (That would be the high school bangers' lifestyles - not the hair bands' lifestyles - I don't remember ever seeing Sebastian Bach at my mall).

Anon didn't seem to really like a lot of my friends either. I was always surprised that we managed to stay so close even to this day. Perhaps it was because I let her cheat off of me in Biology.
"No Anon, I guarantee you that eyeball juice is not the right answer...v-i-t-r-e-o-u-s f-l-u-i-d..."
Anon seemed to think that a lot of my friends were too uptight/goody-goody. I would like to state for the record that I don't think I can name a bigger goody-goody than myself. I admit that I play it up a bit- but at the core it's relatively genuine.

So our friendship IS a mystery, but still, it's there.

Anon and I went "window" shopping yesterday. Anon is much more devoted to money than I am. I made a purchase at our first stop. The sandals ARE adorable though.

While we were in London Drugs, Anon told me about her ants. Apparently she isn't a fan. I'm unclear on exactly which measures she took to get rid of them- but I can relate the trick that actually worked: Paint thinner.

Her logic was that since she hates the smell of paint thinner, she bets that the ants will too.
So down the anthill she poured. Her Mom was apalled.
Anon began to have second thoughts after she had already done the deed- what if she's now killed all the animals in the neighbourhood? What if she's suddenly going to see birds falling from the sky because she's poisoned them? I had nothing to say- I was laughing too hard.

While we were at dinner we discussed world events.

First we discussed politics: "Did you hear about the fight that Rosie had with Elizabeth on The View?" "Kinda - it had something to do with Al-Quaida or something..." "Did you hear that Donald Trump supports her?"

Then we moved on theatre and travel: "Did you see the interview with Angelina while she was in Cannes?" "No?! Where did you see that?" "Entertainment Tonight" "How do you say Cannes anyhow- do you pronounce the s?"

Then we discussed family: "Ugh, are they still showing Dani-Lynn and Howard Stern every night on ET?" "No- but do you think the father is going to pursue the lawsuit for the old guy's money?"

We are very diverse and informed individuals.

Here are some quotes from Anon in my high school yearbooks:

Grade 10:
"Hey there kiddo, have a really cool year cause you're a really cool chick." (Apparently I was cool enough!)

Excerpts from Grade 11, because she took up a whole page:
"Now in Grade 12 you will accomplish the following-
1. Get totally wasted and make love to the toilet
2. Get laid by a Scotti look alike (guitarist for Skid Row - see banger wannabe)
3. Flunk or drop out of a course"

Grade 12: (excepts again)
"Well amazing enough we did somehow remain friends"
"Rules: 1. Get laid by a hot guy

Seeing a trend there?

Things haven't changed much- she was very sorry that she missed the one time that I got completely drunk and passed out (embarassingly recently). And is still quite encouraging of my sex life.

Why wouldn't we stay friends with support like that?

I luv you Anon!

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Caramilk and white roses

So Mist did a post the other day about an impressively bad date that she ended up on.
This has inspired me to post about the most ridiculous/awful/hilariously bad date that I've ever had...

I actually had a crush on this person (J) when I was 16. However he seemed much more interested in my already taken person at the time.

I was picking up my person to go to a party, and J was over visiting. He was apprently impressed with my new highlights (new since 10 years earlier) and called me up at work a few days later to ask me for lunch.

I declined for that day, but he persisted and I eventually gave him my home number and email. He called with a bizarre range of questions for me. "What is the condition of your heart?" "What is your favourite car?" "Beer or wine?" *"If a guy really screwed up, what would he have to do to make you forgive him?" My response to this was something along the lines of showing up at my door with flowers and caramel Haagen Daaz.

We arranged for a date the following Friday. I was very busy with work as I had a few days of meetings with some out-of-town clients. Suddenly J felt that I wasn't enthused enough about our date, so he sent me a message to cancel it. (It's worth noting here that he didn't actually have email, I just got text messages to my email account. If he had a lot to say I would get several texts in a row).

My response to the cancellation was that I'd never been dumped before the first date before- generally it happened after I didn't put out...
He changed his mind about cancelling since I was so charming.

The date:
-He told me all about his first 2 finacees. Those weddings never happened.
-He told me how he subscribe to Cosmo so he could understand women better (he should have kept reading).
-We decided to go for a drive.
-Because I was feeling romantic I asked him if he wanted to go for a walk in a graveyard.
-He instead took us for a drive in the sticks and got his car stuck.
- He tried using his Dad's name when calling CAA, but they weren't impressed so I had to use my last service call.
-He told the CAA driver that it was our anniversary and this is where we had gone on our first date (I'm sure the driver was wondering which part of getting stuck in the woods made me decide that J should be the father of my children).
- He also asked the driver if he knew a good divorce lawyer since I was sure to leave him after this (he's not wrong).
-When we got out I decided that I was done. He drove us through a car wash and asked if he would get another date. He kept asking and asking - so I eventually said "no."

The next day:
- He called to apologise for the night. (It's OK J, let's keep in touch.)

- I checked my email to find many text messages from J. Not complimentary. Talking about his last fiancee who ended up with a guy who broke her jaw and what a terrible person I was etc etc. (To this day I don't really understand how the broken jaw came into it).
- I found out that he was both drunk and on drugs (meds?).
- I moved on and was reading a book. Suddenly there was a knock on my patio door.
- I looked to see *white roses and Caramilks there. Along with MANY notes of apology for the texts.
- I admit I had a girly episode, freaked out and called my brother over to rescue me from the scary flowers.

- More apologetic phone calls. This time for the "Patio incident"
- Can he come over? No.
-Bring me coffee? No.
- A Muffin? No.
Several hours later:
- Bring me dinner? No.

And that was that. Scary and horrifying at the time.
Now I'm just irritated with myself for my irrational freak-out.
Aren't there any nice normal guys out there?

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Dust is part of the natural order of things...

I've lived alone for a long time now. I've essentially come to the conclusion that I'm now far too eccentric to handle any company aside from the occasional visitor.

Or perhaps I just resent the inevitable snide comments about my housekeeping abilities.
I cherish my dust bunnies, several of them have names. I throw little showers when new baby dust bunnies are born.

Anyhow, I have this friend who seems to love being a student. He's been in and out of school for as long as I've known him. His most recent degree resulted in him being at McGill for the first time this year. However it is now practically summer and he's found himself homeless.

Since I haven't had a victim/roommate in a while I offered to put him up for the summer rent-free. All he has to do is pay for his own food. I've never understood roommate-ships that share food. Why would I allow someone else to eat my caramel Haagen Daaz? I lived with a chocoholic once - every time I went to bake cookies I discovered that he had eaten all my chocolate chips in a midnight craving. (He also like to hide the phone bills on me because he frequently made 1-900 calls, but that's a story for another time).

I hope this one doesn't mind what a complete and utter girly girl I am. His room is where I store my plethora of scrapbooking supplies and magazines, as well as the pink plaque declaring me a "Princess" (in case anyone dared express doubt on the matter).

He will also have to share the room with Daphne, my Groovy girl. Daphne and I tried sharing a bedroom once - her snoring is absolutely intolerable.

I am looking forward to living with someone for the summer - it should result in lots of free dinners and manual labour.

He has promised to attempt to be relatively neat. I promised to do the same.

He's also begun to reconcile with the girl that he left here last summer. He's promised that all conjugal visits will be very quiet. I think he was concerned when I warned him that a jealous roommate is one that will suddenly start charging him rent and utilities. ( *I feel compelled to qualify this- I'd be jealous of the fact that he's getting sex and I'm not- not jealous of him and another girl)

My only concern is the "experiment" that he initiated last year. Apparently his goal was to make me so angry that it came around the other side and I ended up being laughing and happy again. Not a fun few months. Let's hope that he doesn't try that one again - it REALLY didn't work.

This is my last week of solitude for a while- I should train myself to start walking around the condo fully dressed again!

Monday, April 16, 2007

The Princess and the Spider

I found a spider on my ceiling today. Unfortunately I am short.

The spider was spotted in my vanity area. Perhaps it is a girl spider. From now on we will call her Charlotte. I didn't mean to take away her primping time- clearly doing nails on 8 legs must be time consuming. However, I have very strict rules about uninvited guests- especially when I suspect they might be using my make-up. Very unhygienic.

Now for all I know Charlotte has lived here longer than I have - however since (to my knowledge) she's never contributed to my mortgage payments, I felt comfortable asking her to leave.

However I also have a rule about murdering uninvited guests. I've never done it before, and it seems a bit harsh. After all, I don't use really expensive make-up...
So I was hoping to just calmly escort her out the door, and explain to her why it was that she had to vacate the premises.

She seemed reluctant to leave.

I finally gave up trying to talk her down from the ceiling- so I resorted to the next logical step: throwing things. First I tried a rubber elastic. Charlotte was unfazed. Then I tried a bracelet- but she simply scooted over. Then I got a brilliant idea: water! So I threw 2 glasses of water at her. Charlotte had the good sense to get out of the way. Unfortunately I did not.

It amazing how all sense of pacifism leaves you when you suddenly find yourself dripping wet. So, I went for my old stand-by. The vacuum. I had been reluctant to take this measure- mostly because I've had it pointed out to me that Charlotte could simply crawl out again. So I promise, if she manages to escape, and weaves a lovely web that says "Some Princess" in the middle I will find a way for us to co-exist peacefully.

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Chakra-lee, Chakra-laa...

As promised, I am following up on my amazing spa day. I have to say, I had a pretty good idea of how wonderful it would be, but I must give a shout out to the fine staff and designers of the Riverstone Spa. It was even more amazing than anticipated, and exactly what I needed.

The second you walk in to the reception area, your shoes and coat are taken, you're given slippers and told about beverages, comfy chairs and fireplaces to come...

And the change room! So lovely! It smelled wonderful, had products and showers, and plush robes and samples to use and steal. :) (For the record we did NOT steal a robe - neither of us had bags big enough!)

The you're led out to the "Quiet zone" with food and tea and a wall with water flowing down, and you can order food and wine...

We didn't even have time to get impatient before our hotstone masseuses and chakra balancers arrived...we chose our crystals (mine represented the heart, solar plexus and throat - something to do with self-esteem, communication and some other stuff which is escaping me right now...)

If you've never had a hot stone massage before- go get one. Right now. Me and this blog will wait for you to get back...SO amazing...

Then we moved on to the pedicures, where we had lunch served to us, and watched some other women go pretty hard at it with the wine. Then my person had a facial while I got my manicure.

"French" mani & pedi for me - why not spend the extra while I'm there? Cause I'm made of money right?
Then another relaxing half hour by the fireplace and we were ready to go. I honestly didn't expect to get so much out of that day. I wanted to reward myself for a ridiculously long, crazy, over-worked few months, but it was so much more than that. I think I'm going to petition the Canadian government for mandatory spa days for all employees. I actually feel like I can handle the next month or so until I'm able to take a holiday...(Maybe there's even something more to my newly balanced chakras than I realized...)
Anyhoo- thank you Rivestone Spa. And special thanks to my person for coming along with me yesterday.
I am SOOO relaxed and zen now...

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Rock the Chakra!

This Saturday my person and I are spending a lovely girly day at the spa.
(For those of you who don't watch Grey's Anatomy- your "person" is the one whose name you write down when you're filling out forms and they ask "who should we call in case of...." or perhaps the person you call when you get hauled off to the drunk-tank...for those of you who are dying to meet my person, as you all should be, feel free to check out my "Stop the Insanity" link)
Anyhoo...we have a fabulous full day planned. Manicures, facials, massages, pedicures, food and sitting around in robes just generally feeling pampered.
I've worked a LOT of overtime in the past few months, and have essentially turned into a quivering pile of goo (or "stress package" as one of my co-workers has lovingly nicknamed me). So, I took this year's bonus and instead of responsibly investing it into an RRSP or fixing my car, or upgrading my computer, I decided that I should spend it on my me and my person's emotional well-being. There perhaps won't be any tangible evidence of it being money well-spent, but there will be many fond memories, and less goo when I go back to work on Monday.
Aside from all the pampering that I've already listed, the thing that I'm most curious about is the part of the day that we booked completely on a whim. One thing on the spa list was "Chakra Balancing." We have no idea what that means, but we're both convinced that we absolutely need it. I've never balanced my chakras before, so it stands to reason that they probably need it.
I even tried asking the girl that I booked all our other services with what it meant. She had no idea.
I hope it doesn't involve anything too strenuous...
If anyone has any idea what it might entail, feel free to give us the heads up! Otherwise, stay tuned- I'll tell you all about it on Sunday.

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