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.