Haven’t posted in awhile, apologies to those who wait with baited breath for the next instalment of my ridiculously interesting life.
Hmmm, which story to pick, which story to pick. Okay, here we go. I finally had a weekend away, sans enfants, with my husband, to Toronto. We had a wedding to go to, my brother-in-law was getting married. We had two wonderful evenings lined up of being wined and dined by family and hanging out with friends. How could I possibly screw this up? Well, night no.1, I sensibly wrapped up the night by about midnight, “saving” myself for a day of shopping and a night of debauchery the following day. What did I do? I wasted all my time in the Eaton’s Centre (damn you H&M!) and then only had 45 minutes to spend on Queen St. West, where my real style lies. Then, that night, I got all gussied up for the wedding, got a little too excited with all the wonderful rich food in front of me and insisted on eating everything, licked my plate clean for all four courses. For those of you who know me, eating two tofu burgers is being a little bit crazy. That night I scoffed down gnocchi in cream sauce, salad with some yummy salty bits ‘o’ cured ham in it, steak, salmon and a decadent rich chocolate mousse. Of course, I washed all this down with rich red wine, and took smoke breaks in between courses (ummm, when is the last time I had a cigarette?) So, when the music starts up, I am ready to cut a rug, or at least I think I am. Midway through “hip-hop, hip it to the hip hip hip hop and you don’t stop” my stomach starts to lurch and I have to take a break. Maybe a little Pellegrino would help? I down some hoping, praying that fancy water will be the solution to what ails me, but no, I’m still not able to dance, let alone move quickly at this point. The straw that broke the camel’s back for me was when the midnight snack table was rolled out – just the sight of food made my stomach turn. So, my big night out with Jonas, with no cares in the world, ended with Jo popping me in a cab at approx. 1:00 a.m., and me insisting he tear up the dance floor without me. The party went on until 5:00 a.m., and I was stuck back on the ranch praying the Tums would kick in. Lesson learned.
It was a great wedding though, both bride and groom were glowing and smiling ear to ear, and it made me feel pretty warm and fuzzy.