Day 88 & 89: Mr. and Ms. Beckham

For the past 36 hours, I have been submerged, like drowning, in luxury at the Banff Springs Hotel. Two words: foie gras. Three more words (and an ampersand): Friends & Family Rate.

Boyfriend’s aunt works at the Banff Springs and his uncle is the Maitre d’/Sommelier at the Eden, a five diamond restaurant at The Rimrock. They are moving overseas and taking their discounts with them, so we thought we’d take advantage of the opportunity while it lasted. Boyfriend planned everything and it has amounted to a whirlwind romantic getaway of chick flick proportions.

Consider me wooed.

The spa at the Banff Springs is like the most luxurious water-based grown-up theme park on the planet. I have never felt more relaxed in my life. My biggest problem yesterday was deciding whether I should stay in the tub looking out over the Rockies or just have another glass of cucumber water and take a nap. We spent four hours there, doing laps between the mineral waterfall pools, the steam rooms, the aromatherapy sauna, the lounges with free cookies. We are kicking ourselves for not getting there at 6 a.m.

After marinating in spa deliciousness all afternoon, I went ahead and weighed myself for the first time since this raw business started. The spa scale told me I’d lost fifteen pounds. HAHAHAHAHA. No. I'm fairly certain it was one of those feel-good scales they buy at the same store as the feel-good hip-removing mirrors.

Both those items are essential, though, if you are about to sit down to a seven-course tasting menu at the Eden. Truffle oil, foie gras, Camembert ice cream, lobster and scallops. I'm serious. It was ridiculously rich, in the artery-clogging sense and the luxe-to-the-freaking-max sense. And also in the 'this is my grocery budget for a month' sense. For someone who has eaten nothing but salad in the past two months, it was like slipping into a parallel dimension made of butter. Which was a-ok with me.

Seven courses meant seven wines. Plus the champagne I had before dinner. I think Boyfriend and I had a fabulous conversation, but I can’t remember a word of it. I am very stupid today. Very, very stupid. I woke up at 3 a.m., peeling my lips off my teeth, feeling like someone poured an entire salt shaker down my throat, chased that with a forty of vodka, then kicked me in the head and ran away.

So. Worth. It.

This is the kind of stuff celebrities do all the time. This is the stuff they take for granted and get bored of. It’s really hard to say whether I want to be rich enough that getting bored of this is even a remote possibility or to stay poor enough for it to blow my freaking mind. Tough call.