As you may know from the teaser I posted on Monday, I did time in Wasaga Beach last weekend. I was invited by friends I hardly ever get to see because that's just how we roll in Canada — all work and all stress and what did you say your name was again? Oh, you're my best friend? Nice!
And I know I told you I would have more to say about that in this post here, but guess what? I lied. Upon sober second thought, it turns out I don't have much to say about it at all, because although I love my friends, camping is actually pretty fucking boring.
|AW, LOOK HOW CUTE WE ARE |
Wait. Why are there no drinks in this picture?
I hate this picture!
However, I decided to honour my promise to feed you more pap about my personal life, not because I'm particularly good at keeping my promises but because I wanted to call attention to these fetching photos of me and the girls. In particular, my outfit, which I like to think struck just the right note of "roughing it" — maxi dress, peep-toe high heeled boots and an armful of bangles.
"Marie, what the hell are you wearing?" one of the male guests asked when I first arrived.
"Hello, have you not met me?" I huffed. "This is me dressed down. Now fuck off and get me a drink. And not beer, for God's sake. I'm wearing bangles. I need a girl drink."
And there wasn't much more to it than that, except that much later, we found a DJ spinning tunes in the forest and we danced with a bunch of 8-year-olds, Pig Face's infallible radar found the juiciest patch of poison ivy and she is now covered with repulsive welts, and my legs personally saw to it that the mosquitoes of Wasaga did not go hungry.
On the way home, I got lost because apparently the GPS lady was on crack — "Turn right; turn right; turn right; turn right" What the hell, you robotic moron bitch, you've just taken me in a complete circle! — and was late for work. I didn't have time to shower, so my colleagues now think I bathe in sand and beer, and today I am scratching my legs so badly you'd think I was the one who'd lolled in poison ivy like it was a seaweed wrap at the spa.
EDITOR'S NOTE: The punchline? They asked her to come back this weekend and she agreed.
MY NOTE: Yes, but only to drop you off and never come back to get you.