Before jumping in to my post about my very-much-needed weekend with my girlfriends, I pause here to celebrate the genius that is Tina Fey and 30 Rock:

Jack (Head of Network): Let me ask you a question, Kenneth. If Mr. Bright here told you to vote Republican, would you do it?

Kenneth (The NBC Page): Oh, no, sir. I don’t vote Republican or Democrat. Choosing is a sin. So I always just write in the Lord’s name.

Jack: That’s Republican. We count those.

Since my Thursdays are always raped by those in power required of me to be on the administrative team for our district, I miss 30 Rock so I have to watch online episodes and mostly do so right before going to sleep. This means I want something subdued and I don’t normally guffaw while watching it, but that little exchange made me pause for breath because I laughed so hard.

I shouldn’t joke about what’s been asked of me during our restructuring, but it sure is making me miss seeing my boys on those nights and at first I was Noble Employee full of Yes! I’d love to do my part! and now I’m getting a little weary, but I need to put on my big girl panties. It’s the first time in a long time that I’m counting down the weeks. (The mantra just changes in my head from 9 weeks left, Kelly. 9 weeks left. to 6 weeks left, Kelly. 6 blessed weeks left.) This is the hard part of being an educator because I can spot those kids whose wheels are falling off toward the end of the school year because they so hate being unstructured during the summer months and not getting daily affirmations from those special teachers who change lives. I know they don’t want to go away from their daily school routine, but I have to help keep them focused to press on.

Do you see how unfocused I currently am behaving? I haven’t even gotten to the Spa Day yet. Slap me, please.

Every year my teacher girlfriends and I try to get together for something. At first, we did scrapbooking (I’m entirely lazy to it now and have about $50,000 worth of stickers and supplies) and then we had parties (Pampered Chef, Tastefully Simple, etc…) and then we played bunco and then we said, “Screw this! We want our nails done!” so the plan was hatched.

First, we get together for Friday night dinner (which I couldn’t attend because we had to crash a party and go to Mallory’s show) and spend the night at Krista’s house. She has a cat and since I’m allergic she patiently de-cat-furs the house including her bed which she lets me sleep in except I pooped out in St. Louis and had to meet them on Saturday for the incredible brunch she provided. She even sets the table with personalized napkin rings.

When I got there she immediately said, “I’ll have you know that bed is CAT FUR FREE just for you and you missed it! Now get your butt up there and roll around on my bed.”

Next, all seven of us go to a spa where we have picked out two services and intermittently meet in this relaxing room with a chocolate fountain and LOTSA WINE, which we bring ourselves. In fact, I’m not allowed to name the spa because they’d get in trouble. They bring us a tray with wine glasses and a bottle opener and whisper clandestinely, “We don’t know you have this.” and it’s all very hush-hush wink-wink.

Did I mention the chocolate fountain where we sit in our white spa robes and try to lick the dripping chocolate after having too much wine?

This time I opted for an intense focal Swedish massage and a pedicure. Actually, I think everyone got the pedicure.

Inadvertently, we all steal the same OPI nail color (Royal Rajah Ruby) and then gush, “Oh, that looks good on you!” to replies of “NO. That looks good on YOU.”

Since we’re all relaxed by this point we opt to do some shopping and have vowed to always tell the truth even if it is YES, YOUR ASS IS ENORMOUSLY FLAT AND AWFUL LOOKING IN THOSE PANTS. That’s true friendship. I never want them to lie to me. We have also vowed to tell one another if there is something stuck in teeth, if toilet paper is hanging from a shoe, or if we’re just too dang old to wear something. It’s refreshing to have honest, caring friends because junior high friends? I’m so over that.

We ate dinner at Granite City Food and Brewery where I got a sample platter of many beers. The darkest one on the far right tasted like chocolate and coffee called the Broad Axe Stout but my favorite was “The Bennie” because it made my lips tingly and my tongue happy and that’s pretty much the only requirement for good beer in my opinion.

Our hostess, Krista, has the most patient husband in the world and he showed up toward the end of the evening and we got free chocolate cake after six of us got served and the poor seventh gal had to wait. When the manager brought it out and offered it free she politely refused (where the hell do I get polite friends? when did that happen!?) so I coughed “Free dessert!” only 5 times before he said, “I think your friend wants some dessert.” Clearly, the chocolate fountain and chocolate beer WAS NOT ENOUGH FOR ME.

I passed my camera to an amateur who shot this picture to which I instantly said, “Nice. It looks like the cake is posing as his penis.” Her husband isn’t really shocked to hear this fall from my lips. I previously rolled around on his bed at the request of his wife, so I’m sure he expected that.

So I had to take another picture of this divine creation.

The obligatory Everyone In The Photo shot.

Also? My arms are huge and I haven’t even been lifting weights. Perhaps it’s from LIFTING BEER AND CHOCOLATE? I’d like to say that my girlfriends are just tiny and fit into my pocket, but I’ll just say here that I love them dearly and they make me laugh until my cheeks are sore and my stomach muscles ache.

Letting me roll around on their beds doesn’t hurt either.

*the Tastefully Simple link takes you to my favorite product of theirs - Beer Bread. DUH. BIG, FLABBY ARMS, YOU MORON.