The Hangover -- Part 3

The girlfriends who get slithered together, prance around naked (oh, wait, that was just me), share clothes, table dance (also just me), share dance partners, beds, hangovers, epic four-course dinners -- these are the ones who stay together. You know -- the ones around whom you can just be yourself and let it all hang out.

Man, am I fortunate to have friends with whom I can abandon all pretense -- like the kind I am forced to exercise in front of people who suck. As my mother and sister sit out on the patio of the condo at which I am currently staying (I can't refer to it as my mother's home, because it belongs to her fiance and in it I am treated as an inconvenient guest, rather than a family member). But this kind of cool reception is something I have become accustomed to in the bizarre world of my parents and their transient lives. Shockingly enough, I was not invited onto the patio to sit and have lunch with the girls -- so I continue going about my day looking out for me.

This morning I was fortunate to have a dose (however small) of warmth from both the students and the environment at the studio I waltzed into before the sun had risen. I taught a double, surprised to see so many hard-cores in my 6 am on a holiday, sudsed up under the ritzy rainfall shower heads in the spa-like change room and booked it to JJ Bean -- my little peace of heaven -- and solace.

A chocolate-whipped cream-laden mocha and visit to Whole Foods later, I was happily high on the simple pleasures I enjoy whenever possible and cruised home with an infectious sense of serenity I was more than ready to share until the patio party shut me out -- yet again.

But, of course, yet again, I will survive this slight. My sister knows not the exclusionary damage so unsuspectingly inflicted upon me, which is why I still want to take her for some quality bonding at Kits Beach.

So, while I head off to oil up, strip down and spend a little time at my favourite spot in Van with my sweetly oblivious sibling, indulge -- if you dare -- in evidence of some of the shenanigans that went down over a memorable bachelorette weekend in Whistler. Don't forget to blame it on the alcohol.