Pants

Monday, October 27, 2008

So this weekend I got to go to a swanky event that I actually WON TICKETS to.  I never win anything.  And I do like to enter contests.  Because I am all about the free and the inexpensive.  And particularly at a time when I’ve got huge bills to pay (two kids in full time daycare, people) and I haven’t actually been paid yet (eek), free tickets are a wonderful thing.

Nadine, of Martinis for Milk, organized a Mother’s Day Off Spa-a-thon as a fundraiser for Sick Kids’ Hospital (where Oliver will end up having his hernia surgery once they write me back about the referral) through her work.  I begged for a ticket, basically, entering three different bloggy contests to get one, and ended up with two.  I briefly sought another mother to attend with me, but then I came to my senses and invited Tami (who isn’t a mother but is at least female and, you know, takes very good care of her dog).

Anyway, we went downtown, got there a bit later than I had hoped, and found the very cute and tiny Nadine at the door.  My first meet-in-real life blogosphere person!  We also found the event very well attended.  You were meant to go around getting mini-appointments with the different spa services offered, but as we tried, we discovered that every station was very busy.

While looking for services, and stuffing our faces with free cupcakes, I spied the immediately recognizable Catherine of Her Bad Mother, who I just had to introduce myself to, and who was very gracious.  Her and her friends were immediately warm and invited us to sit, but we were determined to get something decadent done to ourselves, so we kept wandering.

Alas, we could not get any appointments.  We wondered what we were going to do for the 2 hours I had planned to be there, other than eat candy, cupcakes and drink tea.  I didn’t really feel like doing a yoga class in public, but at least it was a chance to catch up and gossip as we hadn’t seen each other in ages.

A bit later, Catherine came over to say goodbye; she’d had a bad night up with the baby, I think, and was really tired.  I realized at that point she was with Katie of motherbumper fame, which I found when I started reading Better Than a Playdate, which they both work on.  Of course, being introduced to Katie earlier, I hadn’t made the connection.  Dolt.  Anyway, they VERY generously gave us their remaining spa appointments, and said their adieus.

Excellent.  We walked around, having stolen their identities briefly, and told people we were Catherine and Katie.  First thing, a hand massage/exfoliating treatment thing.  Nice one.  Then, on to the psychic, who’d been one of the most popular stations of the day.

I can’t really tell you WHY I wanted to see the psychic.  I don’t have any particular beliefs in psychic powers.  I had some sort of reading done once in university at a dessert café in Ottawa, at a time where the future was opening up ahead of me, and I had so many questions, and it was rather fun to hear her talk about travel and kids and relationships.  Now, I don’t really have questions.  I’m not pondering my existence.  I’ve taken a path and I generally know where I’m going.

On Saturday, I guess it was just curiosity, for fun, whatever.  So I sat down with this pleasant woman who asked me to shuffle and cut a deck of round tarot cards.  I speculated afterwards that perhaps I had just shuffled them too half-heartedly.  Where do these thoughts come from?!  The 99% of my brain that is actually RATIONAL tells me to shut up and that it’s a bunch of hooey so shuffling doesn’t MATTER, dumb ass. 

Anyway, so she proceeds to tell me that the overwhelming message she’s getting from my cards is that I am going to meet a FABULOUS man (if I haven’t already in the very recent past) because the man I am married to is clearly oppressing my power, can not meet my emotional needs, and if I stay married to him, I’m going to get to 45 and think I’ve wasted my life.  Oh dear.

There were a few other details, like that Mark’s making a lot of decisions right now around work, like I’m in a place of taking stock and examining my life, that the Spring is going to be a calm time for me, and that’s the time for me to make some big decisions.  But she ended up basically counselling me into leaving Mark for this wonderful man who’s going to really be fun and loving.  But maybe not ‘til the kids are older.

Yeah, I just can’t relate.  I tried.  I really tried to stretch my life to fit her diagnosis.  But none of it, except a thought that I might go back to school, made any sense.   

I did open up to her, this stranger, like she was some sort of therapist – I said: he doesn’t always hear what I am saying.  He’s not a great communicator.  This is true; I know he’s reading this; these are facts not in dispute.  And I am so incredibly far from perfect, let’s be clear.  But to suggest that he’s holding me back, that I am disempowered, is ridiculous.  I just couldn’t be in a relationship where I didn’t control the TV remote.  He was really nervous about purchasing laminate flooring to go in our basement yesterday without me making the design & colour decision, even when I insisted that I defer to his choice because it’s the basement, for a spare bedroom, and I really don’t care.  Main floor of our house?  Oh yeah, you bet I’ll care.  But you get this one.

We both wear the pants. We share the pants.  The pants probably stink.  The pants probably need to be washed, or repaired.  But I’m not going to throw the pants out with the bathwater, just yet. – and I’m not going to plan ahead to do so.  That would be pants*. 

*Noun/Adj. Nonsense, rubbish, bad. From the standard British English of pants, meaning underwear; also a variation on ‘knickers’. E.g.” The first half was pants but I stayed until the end and it was actually a great film.” [1990s]
Exclam. An exclamation of annoyance or frustration. From the noun, (above).

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2 Responses to “Pants”


  1. Hey — was so great to meet you in person. And don’t worry — I heard that about the psychic from a few people — wasn’t just you.

    Glad you got to have some fun. We definitely learned some lessons for next year. Feedback is appreciated.


  2. I’m honoured that someone as lovely as you appropriated my identity 😉


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