A Recap of my Debauchery

Thank you for the love, sheeple. Truly, I appreciate all the comments, emails and phone calls of love.

Except for the calls where I pick up and someone is breathing hard. I don't appreciate that kind of love unless I consent to it. Just so we're clear.

I was having a very crap evening and this morning wasn't so great either until my friends showed up with gifts of coffee and chocolate. Being able to slowly brainwash people into thinking I'm so fun to hang out with that they must bribe me with food has proven to be a worthwhile effort. Sure, it's a huge lie, but who cares? In the end I get sweets and bitters. And once they figure out how boring I am I'll have convinced someone else they want to please my stomach.

Baby, don't hate the playah. Hate the game.

Completely coffeed out and with friends gone home, I'm indulging in a glass of water - exciting - and a chocolate-covered cherry - significantly more exciting, I'd say. Intrepid and Gutsy were ushered off to school with a hired marching band following the bus. I ran alongside it with some pompoms and made up cheers about how wonderful it was that March Break was over. It was a subtle sendoff, but I think they got the message.

As of right now, Spawnling and both dogs are asleep in various parts of the house, while one cat is eating and the other is outside like it's Spring or something, but with a foot of snow still on the ground. He's old and senile, so we'll forgive his stupidity. In short, this seems like the perfect time to write about how fantastic my spa weekend was, and maybe even add in a few pictures.

For starters, I attended the Ottawa Blogger Brunch... Or is that Breakfast? I never remember. It was a lot of fun. After this brunch I have deemed Nat and I to be official, bona fide friends and not just geeky internet weirdos having the occasional coffee, as we've spent enough real life time together. I met Laurie and one of her sons who was probably the most personable child I've had the pleasure of hanging out with. In fact, it made me wonder what is wrong with my own gremlins that they don't sit and talk to grownups in quite that way.

(It may have something to do with my referring to them as gremlins, which are little, ugly destructive goblin-type creatures. It could maybe be affecting their self-esteem a little. I don't know.)

I also had the pleasure of finally - finally! - meeting Jobthingy's Raspyberry. Can I just say that I adore that guy? What I don't adore, however, is their constant mushy gushy stab-me-in-the-eye sweetness with each other. It's disgusting! I mean, get over yourselves. Even my sister - who I rebelliously brought to the meal even though she's *gasp* not a blogger - was grossed out. We kept rolling our eyes at each other as we attempted to keep our food down.

I also met Raino, Hannah78 and several others I'll add to my blogroll. They're really cool chicks and so personable! Who new you could use the internet and not be creepy?

These are mine and jobthingy's name tags after the big event:



After brunch we hit the spa. I got my first ever pedicure. Man, that was gross. Who knew you could slice off that much dead skin from a heel? Uber nasty. I really admire people who can work on feet for a living. The aesthetician put pretty coral pink on my toes, which inspired me to buy a pink purse and dark metallic slip-ons with hot pink interiors. I was in heaven, buying stuff just for me! Normally I wouldn't, but I was caught up in the do-something-for-yourself whirlwind and I just couldn't stop. Sort of like binge drinking but with a money hangover.

My hair got cut and straintened at the hair salon. Damn I looked sexy. Well, sexier anyway. Slightly more sexy than usual, which probably isn't saying much. Still, I liked. Here's a pic of my sister and I getting ready for dinner. Note my hotness.


It takes me a good 45 minutes to an hour to straighten my hair. Way too much work with three gremlins to tame on a daily basis. I'm relieved to report that it looks almost as good curly if I put a bunch of frizz-taming and curl-enhancing products in it. It's all about the products, ladies.

We had dinner at an Italian place. As a non-meat-eater I was highly skeptical. Normally when a vegematarian goes to a place where meat is served, the dishes are rather bland and boring without a big slab of seasoned carcass. Not so at this place; I had the most amazing fetuccini of my life. I'm salivating just thinking about it.

Salivating all over my keyboard like an internet pervert. That's freaking gross. Where's the tissue?

Clubbing was fab. I had my first ever energy drink, which is basically some pop with a hell of a lot of caffeine in it. It had zero affect on me for the first twenty minutes. I thought of telling the company that their drink is for sissies. Then it hit me like a herd of elephants and I started yelling song lyrics while dancing profusely anywhere I was. I couldn't sit still.

No more energy drinks for The Maven. She has no tolerance. They are like crack to her. She is banned.

We had poutine at a 24h diner when the clocks changed from 2 to 3am. I felt like a bad girl being out so late. It was a wonderful feeling. I started to get really giddy as the energy drink wore off. We headed back to the hotel around 4am, which was really 3am but whatever.

Around 4:30am we - mostly the drunk sister and her hilarious friend Toupée and I - were being so loud we had the neighbours next door bang on the wall so violently it freaked us all out. Then we were quiet and well-behaved girls. Honest. Not another peep.

The Sister and Toupée made a funny video about the whole ordeal in which they whisper about the mad banger on the banging wall and giggle to themselves. I'll see if they'll let me post it.

Do you know how long it's been since I had a noise complaint? How awesome is that?! I felt like a rocker girl. I contemplated trashing the room but unfortunately I am without the rocker salary. Tragic.

I slept a total of four hours but am happy to report that there was a Fourbucks in the hotel lobby. Bastette bought me a very big latte and that kept me going. Speaking of Bastette, she's my sponsee and she's gorgeous. Check it out:


(She is gorgeous, but really I just wanted to show off my hair again.)

We checked out and I had brunch with The Sister and I came home. Because, honestly, there was nothing left to do. I had pampered, I had partied, I had partaken in shopping and food. What more was there? For just over 24 hours afterwards I was the happiest - and most exhausted - person alive. Then yesterday's dentistry surprises occurred and I felt glum. Refreshed, but glum.

At least I'm refreshed. And I have cute hair, feet and shoes. Not to be confused with "hairy feet in shoes". If you read that you need to go back, read slower and stop watching Lord of the Rings.

Besides, hobbits don't even wear shoes.

Duh.

In Which The Maven Runs Away

Technically, morning will be here in half an hour. But my morning - the morning of all mornings - starts in about nine.

In nine hours I will wake up anything but well-rested because I will have likely been Spawnling's trampoline and food source from about five in the morning while getting only very broken sleep. But I will wake up anyway, because it's going to be the first day in a long time that is dedicated entirely to me and only me.

Let me say that again. It's all about the most important person in the world: me and only me.

Me, me, me.

Me.

No gremlins, no husband, no pets, no housework. No mundane thoughts like is the load in the dryer ready?, no how many vegetable servings did the kids get today? calculations. Nothing ordinary, nothing selfless, nothing responsible or productive or educational in any way. I will have two days of complete abstinence from the real world in which I will enjoy my happy pink bubble filled with friends and rich foods and too many diet drinks at the bar while I dance my face off.

Spa weekend is here! It's officially happening in a really real way and I will enjoy it to the fullest. I'm starting off the party by heading to the Ottawa Bloggers Brunch and will be bringing my sister Photolush along for the experience of meeting other internet exhibitionists. She will see that her sister is not the only one who puts her life out there for other people to laugh at.

The highlight of the brunch? Other than seeing some of my favourite people, I am beyond excited to be meeting Laurie, who I first blog stalked, then Facebook stalked and am now working my way into an autographed copy of her new book. The poor girl is probably terrified to learn that I'll be there and will undoubtedly hide from me at the other end of the really long table, but I'll flash her some Maven charm and she'll come around eventually. Most people do once they realize I'm the harmless kind of crazy.

Then Photolush and I will meet up with the othe girls at the spa and get very self-indulgent things done to our bodies. I fully intend to burst out of my pants at dinner by commiting caloric suicide at the Italian restaurant before destroying my very first pedicure on the dance floor until I drop from exhaustion and fall blissfully asleep in the hotel room with four other girls in various states of drunkenness.

Obviously I will not be drinking, as I've heard that can be a bad move for a recovering alcoholic. Something about complete abstinence? I'm sure I read that somewhere...

In my seventeen years of clean and sober living I've come to appreciate drunk people in a way I never thought possible. Some would call sobriety boring in that you can't share in the inebriated fun. But that's the human character flaw of instant gratification talking; the real joy of not drinking in a room full of booze is that you can remember the stupid crap people do even when they can't. Then you can remind them of it at your convenience for a very long time. For example:

Friend Who Drinks Too Much Sometimes: You were half an hour late picking me up. You're always late lately. What's the matter with you?

Sober you: Hey, remember that time last year when you puked on the cute guy in the bar that was buying you that drink and then puked on the bartender when he got you a towel and then still asked the cute guy for his number? How gross was that? Did you ever tell your boyfriend? But it was so hilarious! Can I tell him? No? Then shut up and get in the car, perfectionist.

See? There are definite advantages to being a non-drinker, and blackmail is just the tip of the iceberg.

Anyway, I should get some sleep. This has been a very busy, exhausting week; hence the lack of blog posts. You can blame the gremlins for their constant bickering and boredom as it lead me to - ick - having to do things with them. Like, come on! I gave them life and now I have to amuse them, too? That's so not fair.

Goodnight! I'll update on the awesomeness on Sunday. In the meantime let's place bets on how destroyed the house will be upon my return. They have thirty hours without me, give or take. On a scale of 1 to 10, I pick 7. But what do I know? I'm just the mom.

Also, Monday is advice column time! Have something you want to ask me? Write to me at mavenmayhem@gmail.com

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