From Glam to Vom

This weekend started off lovely: Manhattan, outdoor brunch, spa treatments and girlfriends, and ended with me wrapped around the toilet at 5 am, puking my brains out.

You might say it went "downhill".

It was "Spa Week" last week, meaning lots of New York City spas offer their services at reduced rates as a way of advertising. We signed up on the later side, so all the fancier places booked fast, so we wound up in a hole-in-the-wall on the Upper West Side that was in a pre-war apartment (it was actually very lovely and cozy, and turned out to be way more my speed than those glossy white, sterile-looking NYC spas you see on TV). I had signed up for a facial, and everyone else went for a massage. I was a tiny bit afraid that I was starting what would become an anecdote that went "Hey, remember when we went to that weird little spa and you all got massages and my face melted off?" (My face looks great, though. I'm really happy.)

I went from Manhattan to Long Island to my in-laws; Rob and the dogs were already there, as was a ton of family, and we were all set for Sedar dinner #1. Tino snapped at just about everyone, and bit my mother-in-law hard enough to make her bleed. We spent most of the visit holding him on a leash, and taking him out of the room when he got too fussy.

"I hope having a baby isn't this hard", Rob said, and his sister promised having a baby was way easier. Oh good.

No one took the reading of the haggadah seriously, which always bothers me. I'm getting used to it.

My mother-in-law cooks with margarine, not butter, and it wrecked havock on my stomach. After two days of margarine-laden food (margarine being a molecule or two away from plastic) my stomach rebelled. I slept for about four hours, and woke to an evil gurgling within. After an hour of tossing and turning, I got up and puked my brains out. My mom used to forbid margarine on anything, and I never got why, but after reading about it, I'll never let it in my house again. I have some in the freezer that is going in the trash as soon as I get up. Right now, though, I'm in bed for the majority of the day, with a fragile stomach. You may begin feeling bad for me.