Much, much too long ago (nearly two years) my sisters and I had a Girl's Relaxation Day in Park City, where we retreated from our lives and painted our toenails and stuffed ourselves with brie, which we could technically have done in our own places of residence but felt (rightly) that it would be better to do it somewhere else.
This fall we decided that it was time for another much-needed Girl's Relaxation Day, and since Park City had treated us so well last time we made that our destination. The nice thing about Park City, I think, is that even though it's not that far away it still feels like a different sort of place. This is probably because they have coffee there.
Spitfire booked an amazing spot for us to stay and treated me and Jen to an evening of luxury. For, lo, she is awesome. We were at the Westgate Resort, which was just beautiful and perfect and wonderful.
Spitfire booked an amazing spot for us to stay and treated me and Jen to an evening of luxury. For, lo, she is awesome. We were at the Westgate Resort, which was just beautiful and perfect and wonderful.
Resort highlights included:
A full kitchen and living room.
A hot tub in the bedroom. (Aw, yeah. Except, you know, not so much, since I was there with my sisters. No Victoria Secret bubble bath parties here, sorry.)
A huge stone shower with both a regular shower head and a waterfall shower head (the kind that comes down from the ceiling.) The shower also has a bench built in and functions as a sauna. (So, um, all other showers can kind of eat it now.)
An outdoor heated pool (lovely) and two outdoor hot tubs. We chose the one that came with the Speedo-wearing European man. As you do.
In true Girl's Relaxation Night style, there was toenail painting and brie-eating and pumpkin-pie-eating and TV-watching. No no-bake cookies this time, probably because my sisters remember almost being gassed to death last year. There was also much sighing at the catalog of spa services offered downstairs, which sighs then turned to chokes and seizures upon the reading of the prices. We watched the TV channel advertising the spa for a little bit but then had to turn it off because it was just too tantalizing (ahhh, spa porn). Our new plan is that one day when we're all quite rich we are going to book ourselves into a spa for a weekend. It's gonna be great. We then piled into the king-sized bed, which fit all three of us easily, and slept soundly. That is until my cell phone alarm went off at 7:00am, please do not ask me why. It seems that I am alarm-challenged.
For breakfast Jen made crepes. I would have helped, but I was Experiencing the Shower. She did Julia Child's crepe recipe with a savory chicken-bacon-mushroom-leek-pure-crystallized-crack-cocaine filling. And for calcium we added slabs of warm brie. Women need calcium, you know. My bones start to deteriorate this year--gotta stave that off. There were also nutella crepes with fresh raspberries, real whipped cream, and sauteed apples. Because we know how to party.
Once we got cleaned up and I'd done everyone's eyebrows and eye makeup (remember, girlie weekend) we hit the outlet stores. And yes, I'm sure there are some friends out there right now thinking, "Wait. YOU were the one doing people's eye makeup? Uh . . . " But what they do not know is that I've totally figured out how to do one really nice-looking smoky grey-blue eyeshadow thing. So that's what we all got. And we looked hot, I tell you.
Jenny took in the biggest shopping haul as she was on a mission to buy new church-going clothes. I got two nice tops and mentally purchased an entirely new wardrobe for GH at Banana Republic. As a heterosexual male, he would probably object to most of my choices. One day, though. One day.
So yeah. We've decided this needs to be an annual thing. And maybe we should spend two nights instead of one. And we need to check the closets more carefully when we leave because if we don't then the housekeeping staff will steal the black J.Crew shirt Jenny accidentally left hanging in the closet and then the hotel will just pretend like we maybe imagined the black shirt and that possibly Jenny did not actually wear it to the hotel but just turned up to check in wearing nothing but a bra. (I'm kind of glad now that I forgot to leave a tip for those stealers. Except . . . maybe that's why we're in this situation now. Huh.)
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