The Convent of Too Much Fun

There's a wonderfully kitschy bar on College Street with an infamous midnight drag show. It's called El Convento Rico. Translation: The Convent of Too Much Fun.

That pretty much sums up what my weekend is going to be like.

Fun and frantic.

I'm leaving at noon today to pick up my Mother and my Aunt.

My Mother comes from a small northern Ontario city. My Aunt is coming from an even smaller, even more northern town.

It's bright lights, big city. A whistle stop at Over-Stimulation Station. Woo Woo!

We're spending the afternoon at the mall, and tomorrow we're going to see The Sound of Music on stage. It's my way of expiating all my negative karma in this lifetime.

There's nothing that card-carrying members of the Catholic Women's League like more than a spirited version of Sound of Music. I've already primed them: 1) Do not sing along with the performance 2) Those people can actually hear you, when you talk about them.

Ah yes, these are a few of MY favourite things.

After the play, we'll grab a bite to eat, then I have to drop them back at the bus, rush home, grab my suitcase, and head out to Pearson.

I'm off to London -- England, not Ontario -- where I'm celebrating the holidays by contemplating the finer points of legacy giving for a major international development charity.

I'm planning to come back with an accent. Just like Madonna.