Life's Little Rewards

A womb with a view lol

     You wish you were me right now.
     I just got back from the Claramount Spa where I had a 1/2 hour facial with a woman named Lisa. My cheeks are rosey, my skin is dewy and my lips are plumped. I'm ready for spring.
     This trip to the spa has been well-deserved. I have been doing some spring cleaning, working long hours and being very good about not using my maxed out credit card for the 40 days of Lent (I hope God doesn't feel that is cheating. lol). I even helped a friend of mine groom her horses for two and a half hours on Monday. I would have blogged about it, but there's not much excitement in a rubber curry brush and two quarterhorses. In the end, there was enough hair to fill a pillow case. Tara had a lot of gas (she farts when she coughs, hehe) and Hope has the cleanest horse vagina I've ever seen, but I didn't get kicked or bitten so who cares, right? I just smelled like a ranch hand when I got home.
     So, I feel I deserve a $50 facial, especially when it only costs me $35. I get a discount because I work at the Waring House. Mom deserves a pedicure for all her hard work, too. That's why I got her a gift certificate for Christmas. My mom frequently comes over to visit me and she does my dishes while she's here, or folds my laundry, or sweeps and mops, etc. Basically, she is still picking up after me even though I'm almost 40.
     She also took me out for lunch today as payment for doing her Income Tax returns. We decided to go to The "Warring" House, which is so known for it's commonplace staff bickering. I've heard others refer to it as The "Whoring" House, but I can't comment on that. (Aaaaah, Norah would kick my ass if she read this. Thankfully, she's too busy decorating to read blogs.)
     Lunch was reeeeeally good. Heather was crazy busy with a big table of Red Hats and the rest of the place had filled up, as well, so I expected a bit of a delay. Red Hats are women over 60 who like to travel in groups wearing purple outfits and red hats (obvsly). They are usually pretty nice and don't tip too badly either, therefore, I can't say anything bad about them. Except that some of them are a little freaking weird. Not half as weird as the group I'm serving tomorrow... Aaargh, I am totally getting off topic. Sorry.
     Regardless of the busy lunch, Jenny brought us water right quick and Heather took our orders toute de suite. She even took time to give mom a little compliment. I got the rapini and mushroom quiche with salad and mom had the roast beef dip and sweet potato fries. We were out of there in less than an hour. I would recommend Amelia's Garden or the Barley Room Pub at The Waring House for lunch or dinner. And, I'm not just saying that cos I work there ;)
     Now, if you want to go have a facial at the Claramount here's what you need to know.

1. Get there 15 minutes early to fill out a redundant form about your health issues, medications and insurance information. None of that shit applies to me, so it's silly. I'm in for a facial, not day surgery. Rub my face with hot cloths and send me on my way, chrissakes.
2. Don't be surprised when they ask you to take off your clothes and put on a bathrobe. I couldn't rationalize this request - considering I was just having a facial - but it turns out the facial includes a "decollette". Either way, it's more comfy than jeans and I'm all in favour of being skyclad.
3. Be very excited! There is soothing spa music in the background, a mug of cherry sencha (green tea) in your hand... and then you get to take off your bathrobe and climb into a cozy little bed that has been warmed up with a heating pad. There's even a little pillow to take the pressure off your lower legs. It's like laying in a womb without the goo and the darkness. 
4. There are lots of applications of hot cloths on your face. That's how the facial starts, that's how it ends, and there are all kinds of them throughout the half hour, too. If she covers your nose with a hot cloth and you can't breathe, you prolly pissed her off somehow.
5. The Claramount uses Eminence organic products from Hungary. Very "green" according to the literature. For all I know, it's made with formaldehyde in a Chinese bicycle factory. There are hundreds of cleansers, toners, exfoliants, masks, serums and moisturizers and they all smell good. According to Eminence, you are supposed to cleanse, exfoliate, mask, tone, treat, moisturize and protect you face twice a day (morning and night). I'm lucky to find a fucking bar of soap in my shower for my daily facial regimen.
6. Apparently, the fact that my cheeks get pink when I have a glass of wine means that I have rosacea. I thought it was just a mild allergic reaction to alcohol.
7. The Lemon Grass cleanser really smells good, but strong. The Rosehip and Maize exfoliating mask is gooey and chunky - not my favourite. The Rosehip tonic is sprayed on your face in a fine mist - you can barely feel it - but it's supposed to "infuse" your face with vitamins and minerals. The serum is the best stuff. I got Couperose-C serum, which reminds me of fresh cut lawns and Zambuk. Follow this with the Thermal Spring whip moisturizer, some Wild Plum eye cream and a bit of Citrus plumping lip balm and you could totally eat your own face.
8. The best part of my facial was when she massaged the serum into my forehead. That seems to be where I keep alot of my stress; right in the furrow of my brow. The worst part is the neck massage. I don't like anyone touching my neck, especially along my carotid artery.
9. A "decollette", btw, is a massage around that part of your chest and shoulders that does not necessarily extend all the way to your fun pillows. You can't wear a bra to a facial because the straps get in the way of the moisturizing massage.

     I would really like to have this done AT LEAST once a month. I would also like to take Pole Dancing lessons at By The Moon in Belleville, but they're both too expensive and I would have to get a job as a stripper before I could afford it. That's a bit of a Catch 22 as I see it. Nobody wants to pay to see a stripper with a poor complexion who can't dance on a pole yet.

Free Stuff!

     I woke up Monday morning with severe PMS. I notice the symptoms more and more as I get closer to the elusive promise of menopause - sudden, uncontrollable urges to whip somebody's ass at work, hating the world, a desire to spend money I don't have, and frustration with the word "shampoo".
     I kid you not. Monday morning I Googled the word "shampoo" to find out who came up with such an insult to the English language. I was in the shower, absent-mindedly reading the various bottles therein, and decided the word was stupid. I even contemplated whipping a little, harmless, bottle of Aveda that I got from a hotel room because it contained the French word for conditioner (Apres-Shampoo) written on it.
      That, my friends, is severe PMS. Donations to my poor husband to ease the trauma I cause every month can be forwarded to him at RR#8 Picton. Hahaha. Nah, he's good. A mood swing is just around the corner.
     Retail therapy is a known cure for hormonal imbalances. Well, maybe not a cure... but a Band-Aid solution, at least. However, I can't shop for clothes at a time like this. Everything I try on will make me look like a cow. I hate shopping for household items because I just don't care that much about what my house looks like. Shoes are fairly safe to shop for, but they are expensive. Basically, I am limited to groceries and books the week before my period arrives.
     The next dilemma is $$$. I've got a car payment and an RRSP withdrawal coming out of my bank account on Tuesday morning. Tips have been the shits lately (NOT related to my PMS, so shut up!) so I've got very little spare cash (if any). What's a girl to do?
     Here's the plan. Put $10 in the Soul to get to Belleville. There, I am going to pick up a book for Janet at Walmart. Shopping with other people's money is a fabulous idea when faced with iGRIEF (instant Gratification Required. It's an Emergency, Fuckhead!) That's the best acronym I could come up with in 5 minutes. I know it's lame. So, sue me.
     Like I said, shopping with other people's money is the best, because there's no guilt or buyer's remorse and you still get the feeling of accomplishment. Water for Elephants is about $12 at Walmart right now and I hear it's a very good story. When Janet is finished, I get to read it, so she's like surrogate for me - she pays for the book and I get to read it in about 9 weeks or less. The only thing that would be better is shopping for somebody else for something that costs a little more than $12. More adrenaline with a bigger purchase.
     Next on the list: The Bulk Barn. I would have made it out of there with about $5 in purchases; whole grain spaghetti, short grain brown rice, a handful of dried apricots and peanut butter was all I had on the list. Unfortunately, I found Miso paste, which I have been searching for these past few weeks. It was $6.99! So, I am minus another $12. Now, if I can remember what I wanted Miso paste for, I'll be set.
     Had to stop for mall sushi. That's another $10 :(
     At this point, I could have used a gift card at Old Navy to buy something, but clothing shopping is out of the question. So, I head to Canadian Tire where I can use my Options Mastercard points to buy a cutting board and windshield washer fluid. Cutting boards are on sale this week for 60% off and, in spite of my messy housekeeping, I'm a bit of a germaphobe when it comes to cutting boards and countertops. Points = free! I'm winning!
    The best deal of the day, however, comes from No Frills. I purchased tomatoes (because there aren't any available at Crowe's tomato farm on County Road One until April - and that's another story), relish, sweet chili sauce, frozen butter chicken dinners for Austin, a cucumber for Rodney (I hate cucumbers) and Pogos because they were on sale for $5 off. Couldn't get kale because you can never do ALL of your grocery shopping at one fucking store! Noooooo. You have to go to all three goddamn places if you want to get everything on your goddamn list, don't you find? Or, is it just me? I guess mom can't read this blog because of language. Sorry, mom.
     So, I'm already pissy when I get to the cash and the only cashier without a lineup is the one I've seen you all mention on facebook. I can't say anything defamatory here because she's related. Suffice it to say, she wasn't any nicer to me than she is to anybody else. When I checked my bill, I found the Pogos cost $8.99, not $3.97 as the sign said. In order to get a refund, I had to go to a different cash register. That cashier was leaving for break, so I had to wait for another cashier to come down from "upstairs". That cashier was taking her damn sweet time giving me a refund and I was getting more irritated by the second. All my retail therapy was for nought. I envisioned grabbing this young lady by the ponytail and giving her a face roll on the price scanner.
     Instead, I said I would go and check the sale sign so that she wouldn't be troubled with another refund (since they are clearly beyond her realm of knowledge). I brought the sign back to the cash register and it wasn't just one of those yellow stickers they put up over the regular retail price. It was a letter-sized placard in a metal frame. Clearly, people have been scooping up $4 Pogo boxes and paying $9 all weekend.
     This simple maneuver of removing the sign was, apparently, a game-changer. Now, I would not only get my refund, I would also get the box of Pogos for free! WINNER! GAGNON! I actually said "YAY!" right out loud.
     As an added bonus, I got home and discovered my sweet chili sauce has the word "COCK" all over the label. This just made my day even brighter because, unlike "shampoo", I really like the word "cock".

     Another good free thing is time. I had a good talk with my papa when I returned from Belleville. He was between items on his "to do" list so he came in for a chat and a chai. I wanted to vent about how much my jobs suck this week and dad is a good sounding board; he helps me to sort out my genuine feelings from my superficial feelings. But, we also discussed flying (and how it will be a cold day in Brazil that I get trapped in one of those death machines), flagging down trains, traveling with a dead moose and how to hotwire a minivan. There are so many good stories in that sentence and so little time to explain them all. lol.
     After the planes, trains and automobiles, we turned to Julia Roberts movies, which led to more traveling. Dad did the "Eat, Pray, Love" excursion a couple of years ago and had the time of his life. It was only across Canada (not Italy, India and Bali), but he did manage to find himself. Before he left, though, he wondered if he could spend that much time in his own company without getting on his own nerves. I think my dad may be schizophrenic based on that comment.

Ditch the Workout, Join the Party.

There's nothing quite as nasty as 15 pasty-faced, middle-aged, white women trying to shake their asses off in a Zumba class. Some of the participants in Wednesday's class at the Prince Edward Fitness and Aquatic Centre were not middle-aged and some of them were not pasty-faced. But, it was all kinds of messed up.

     When you see the ads for Zumba workouts, the people always look young, sexy and bronzed, wearing the latest, ultra-hip Zumbawear and walking like Ricky Martin on a cruise ship in rough waters. I would like to look like those people. Instead, I wore some black yoga pants and a black t-shirt that says, "Inside me is a really thin woman trying to get out. I can usually shut the Bitch up with chocolate."

     I wasn't out of place either. Some women wore cotton capris and Ts, others wore shorts and Ts, some even wore pyjamas. My friend, Kimmy, on the other hand, went shopping just for the occasion. She was decked out in brand new Spandex yoga pants, spaghetti tank and running shoes. Show off, lol.

     So, the basic Zumba moves are Merengue, Salsa, Cumbia and Reggaeton. I don't know which steps were which, but there's some stepping out and in, some waving your arms around, and alot of rolling your hips. It's the hip rolling that is both hilarious and unattractive when performed by our group. We were all trying our best to look like sexy belly dancers while twisting and humping and sache-ing around the hardwood floor, but it was just really pathetic. Lots of fun though and definitely a good workout.
     The top half of my ass is really sore today. And, yes, when your ass gets to be the size of mine, it has to be divided into sections - the top half is the part of the ass that forms a square in your "mom" jeans and the bottom half  is the part that generally folds over the back of your legs. Anyway, I attribute my ass pain to the humping move. It's just like it sounds - bend your knees, extend your fists in front and push your butt out, then pull your fists towards you while you squeeze your butt cheeks. Do this as fast as you possibly can and you, too, can Zumba. I could not go as fast as the instructor and I consider myself a pretty avid humper.
     Can you imagine seeing your mother do this? The instructor's grown daughter was taking the class for the first time! She was obviously mortified, but she also couldn't stop laughing. My kids would have run from the room screaming for someone to stab them in the eyeballs.
     Then, there's my groin pain. Let's talk about the move in which I had to squat with my legs spread and my arms bent, hands up, out at my sides; kind of like a dancing bear. In this position, I shake my hips from side to side, trying to make my elbows touch my love handles. This is very fun and about as close to sexy as I'm gonna look in this class. However, it causes a cold rush of air to my hoohoo. It also jostles around my vag in a very uncomfortable manner. It's disturbing even for me to think about my poor labia wobbling around in my panties like watermelon Jell-o. That's a nice visual, isn't it. Your welcome!
     Coincidentally, I had been talking about this same sensation with some of the girls at work about 3 weeks ago. It is most commonly experienced while doing jumping jacks. Go ahead, try it right now. If you don't feel it the first time, your underwear are too tight. Take them off and try again.
     Kimmy's favourite move was "Wiping the Counter". With your left hand raised above your head, use your right hand to wipe an imaginary countertop in a counter-clockwise motion. Then, follow suit with your hips in a biiiiiiig circle. It's hoola-hooping in slow motion, so it's easy and a bit naughty.
     I have to keep going to Zumba so I can practice the Beyonce move from Crazy in Love, in which she squats with her legs apart and does booty pops. This is my favourite move and it will help me to kick Tairn's ass next time we are Wii-ing with Just Dance 2. Oh, IT IS ON, my friend!

This is me after a few Zumba classes. Actually, it's Beyonce. But, you will not know the difference soon...

     So, the class on Monday night in Wellington had about 85 people attending. I heard it was a blast. Quite frankly, it would have pissed me off to be in a room with that many rhythm-impaired people throwing their arms around for the "machete" move (yeah, that sounds safe, doesn't it?) I'm more of a mosh pit girl myself. If you want to go, take $8 to the Wellington Arena on Mondays at 7p.m. or book your spot in advance at PEFAC Wednesdays at 7 p.m. or Thursdays at 9 a.m. I would give you the phone number, but I can't find it on the website at http://www.pefac.ca/