There was lying face down and there was drooling.
2004-12-13
10:54 p.m.

This weekend, I was wicked posh. I was almost hanging out with Becks, except not as thin, but as pregnant, but with no kid named after a borough. So, what I am saying is, there are similarities and there are differences.

Anyway, I was in Scottsdale at a resort that I would never, ever go to had we not won a fully-paid-for weekend there, taxes included. But, we did win it and so therefore go we did. We were told we had two spa treatments, so we booked one each (after much wrangling after my husband to make him agree to a manly massage) and figured we'd spend the rest of the time wandering around Phoenix. When we finished our spa treatments, though, we discovered that we actually got two spa treatments EACH... PER DAY. Oh my god, it was so sweet. I will not go into mad detail, but there were prenatal massages and there was buffing and polishing and scrubbing and lying face down and drooling. I may or may not be glowing right now.

All the relaxation benefits were slightly marred when we checked out and discovered that there was a mix-up and actually our kids wouldn't be going to college. When we checked in, they took our credit card info down and wiped out all the card info that was in the computer, which was the corporate card that the charges were supposed to go on. It was awesome. My husband had the Jawline Of Death (think Bill Cower, Steelers fans) for most of the ride home. It all got fixed today, but it was fun to think that maybe we had to pay an amount equal to our entire budget for our European tour for two days of facials and watching people play golf and sit in cabanas.

Ah, spa. If someone gave me cash, that's not what I'd spend it on at all, but it was fun to inspect that other world. Also, my toenails are red.

On the way home, we hit the new IKEA. My husband had never been, and I think he was mildly terrified by the experience. Yet, he was very spendy, more so than even I would have been if left to my own devices. We have a new bookcase/ stereo cabinet, bar stools (finally!) for our built-in bar of awesomeness, and bedside lamps so we can shut off the overhead lights from the ceiling fan that would send any Trading Spaces designer into spasm-laden fits that could only be fixed by either removing it or gluing palm fronds to it. We also ate Swedish meatballs, which are both gross and good, which fascinates me.

Now we are home and there are cats and it is good.

Tomorrow I will perhaps clean and organize, since the cat sitter asked me, "So, are you guys still moving in?" and I am ashamed, because we moved in a year ago. There are no basements in Arizona, and where the fuck are you supposed to put your boxes of Barbies? This climate does not coddle my slight packrat tendencies.