Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Moms Gone To Bed Early Wild!

WTF was I thinking? Not ever having had the wimmens out overnight before? Really. Smack me if I go another year six months without doing that again.
Also? If I ever plan to do that awesome, lovely, fun, wild, gentle wimmens overnight out again right before a train wreck sort of day like Elijah's birthday? So that everyone actually leaves on the day before or of that suckass day? Smack me. Really fucking hard.
Harder. (not like that, you toad; scrape your mind out of the freaking pond scum)
Aside from that one little 'great in theory' , 'sucks ass in reality' planning glitch following the fabulous evening, the night itself was really was more giddy girl fun than I've had since childbirth (no seriously, those were some incredible drugs I got with the last one.).

As I was packing, dh asked why I needed to prepare so much food. Weren't we going out to eat?
(sigh) I am a patient woman. So I explained it like this:
Your people? You go out and hike around all afternoon in search of the perfect location in which to view the sunset. And then you trudge back through the darkness to scrounge for food because nothing is left or nothing is open.
My people? We are different. We may hike around a bit, but many of us have been chasing after children all day. Moving is not a priority, nor is moving particularly fast or 'covering ground'. We realize that the sunset is coming, we organize ourselves around this event, and we commence the sitting and the drinking and the talking. A little ways into this ritual, one of us mentions that we should probably eat, and we all agree! Then we eat the food.
See the difference?

So, on with the wimmens....

Per previous discussion of the ashes, if there was any question, I did not bring Elijah's ashes because:
A) I did not trust myself to not be inappropriately spontaneous, and
B) I think that 'you' are right. I am not ready yet. We can do this next week, month, year...but we can't get them back if we are not ready.

There was no 'ashes viewing', though there was a good amount of womanly hugging and jostling about for who would spoon with whom.

There was some showing off (while in some goddamn hot heeled boots, BTW) by blogging yogi friend, with whom all my other friends fell in love and demanded to know why they had not met her before. Now I fear they will steal her from me. Really, she is that nice.

There was some Ass Sitting by yours truly who is not a yoga goddess like her friends and not limber in any way, unless you count how well I can keep a toddler from running into a parking lot while also blocking an entire grocery cart of food from running into your car, in which case I am extremely flexible.

note my fabulous ensemble of earth tones+the red silk 'I'm so special' scarf'+ purple uggish boots.

There were 'no phones' (scoff! land lines!) but we had more than a reasonable number of laptops and iPhones.

There was a sunset dinner at a diner with a sunset view.

And yes, there was much debauchery and much unbloggable riotousness, most of it whilst sitting on our asses. There was talk of walking to the beach. There was serious discussion of a very short hike. But we all were apparently very Ass Sitting deficient, because this is what we chose to do.
Until, that is, someone who was in our group (who shall remain nameless to protect her job), closed down the hottub by kicking out all of the German tourists at 10:05 (hey, it says right on the brochure that it closes at 10!) so that we could all get in. Without any need for bathing suits.
Because, you know. It was closed.
(no, there are no pictures of the previous activity.)
And then we all went to sleep. By midnight.
(I know, lame lame. but sleep holds higher value for most mamas than post-midnight activities)

The next morning we had a fabulous breakfast (okay, the food was mediocre but the view was great!) and tons of coffee and more Ass Sitting. Only three of us remained by noon, and I was about to go get a massage at 1:30. Two of us took a walk while the BOS had her massage. It was an amazingly clear day. Freakishly windy, but that's what brings the clear. Looking out at the ocean beyond his beach, I started to feel very sad. That unmistakable bubble in the throat that threatens to rise up and create a flood if the wrong thing - or anything - is said. Or thought. Or touched. And my friend was about to leave, about to go home, and somehow she knew that she shouldn't go just yet. I didn't want to be alone just then in between the leaving and the coming in of people. But I am not one to say that out loud. And glad that I didn't need to.
She stayed a bit longer.

Then, I just started to stress about - get this! - getting the massage. I personally, am not a huge fan of paying a stranger to press and knead away at my flesh, but I do think it is a Good Idea, and at times it can feel good and be helpful. Or even be super awesome and addicting. Maybe I love the idea of getting a massage more than I like the massage? Maybe it is just that the last massage I got was when I was pregnant with Bubbles, and we could say that it was slightly traumatic. Or that it sucked. We could say that. I am not anti-massage. I just am anti-massage by strangers, I guess. After the last time, it seemed too much to risk. Which I didn't realize until a half an hour before the appointment.

But there was that lump, and the tears were just so very close to the surface. And if you dented into me, they may have spilled out. And not have stopped for some time. And I am not willing to go there with a stranger. That's not how I roll.
I can bare my soul here on the internets; but I can't cry in front of strangers. Not for more than a potential moment. And certainly not for possibly an entire hour.

So when my friend asked me if it was easier for me to hold it in or to release it, I blinked and then could not even hold back the smallest of floods. She graciously canceled the appointment for me, but I was horribly embarrassed, canceling an appointment less than 1/2 hour before I was to show. Eventually, she had to leave and I had to recover.
The BOS was finished with her massage and then we headed for the hot tub. We were the only ones there except for one other woman, whom the BOS introduced to me as the massage therapist (umm yes, that would be the very same one who I had stood up). (gulp)
She was very kind, not letting on at all that I had essentially stiffed her out of an hour's work.

After that, the BOS and I took a walk through a crazy field of poison oak (carved path)

over the dunes to this beach, just north of Elijah's beach, and it is HUGE and lovely and wide and long and very blustery.

There wasn't much time for wallowing after that, because someone found out that their key opened nearly all of the tent cabins, so of course we had to go exploring.

What key?

It didn't suck.


mamadaisy said...

oh how lovely. girlfriends are worth their weight in gold.

Boss of Seattle said...

Thanks for not posting a MUG SHOT along with the incriminating evidence of 'the key' fun... They would never let me back if they knew what a bad girl I am....

Denise said...

Aw G sounds like a wondeful time. I agree Girlfriends are worth their weight in gold.

Anonymous said...

I'm envious of the circle you can draw around yourself, this obviously fabulous group of women. There's something special about friends who will both support and love you through the cruddy parts AND break-and-enter with you (except it's not exactly that since you DID have a key...technically)!