The other day, my sisterbestfriend was in town and we went for a massage (Envy). I know it sounds decadent , but I've had a gift certificate for this for almost a year(Sloth) and haven't used it. So the guy that was 'doing' me had these beefy arms and a very firm grip. What I discovered is that I really don't like massages. I don't like people. Touching me. (purposeful puntuation) Anyway - I get all 'undressed to "my level of comfort" which to me means 'nekkid with undies, and lay down on the table under the warm blanket. Put my face in the hole and wait for him to start. I suddenly become acutely aware of the sound his arms and hands make on the cotton sheet. Then I start thinking about the mind-numbingly annoying meditative music playing in the room (when was the last time you enjoyed a good zither and the lute medley for a frickin' hour??) I can't relax. He's kneading me ...hard with his warm lotioned hands and I am abashedly a bit turned on by that (Lust) All the while I hear his arms 'swishing' on the sheets and it starts to sound like fingernails on a chalkboard. Then I start thinking about what is going on in his mind. And how many clients he kneads a day. Eww. Next to a Brazilian waxer - I think to myself how gross it must be a massage therapist. Touching people's privates and hairy, dry skin (not my own of course, okay- maybe the dry skin and hairy legs part ) - I can't wait for this to be over. Whew! The hour is up and I get to leave! I come home and hours later my back and neck are killing me and bruised. Note to self: give balance of gift card to Hubby and remind him he's lucky that I am so low maintanance and
Wrath: This one is easy. I do it every day. Just ask my kids. I actually yelled at my daughter for needing to do a homework project with pictures she needed off the internet while I was Tweeting and Facebooking and Emailing and checking out new smartphones (Avarice) and Jeez! Interrupting my 'me time'. Jeez!
Today marks the end of the trimester grading period at school. My kids are terrific students . I was talking to my Aunt the other day telling her what great kids my girls are and she said something to the effect of "not like their mother" and I was all "whu? I was a great student and a goody two shoes ...don't you remember?" getting all harumphy on her. "You are obviously confusing me with sisterbestfriend" (Pride). I was actually pissed that my 79 year old Aunt forgot that I graduated High School in my junior year and am a college graduate. Which reminds me of a great line from "30 Rock" that Hubby and I are probably the only people who actually watch and laugh our assess off. Anyway, one of the characters on the show said (when given an option of something that wasn't helpful) said "That is about as useless as a Mom's college degree" which got me all pissy because there is some truth to that. (Wrath again)
The Gluttony can wait until next week ...Thanksgiving menu is planned. 17 coming over. I am looking forward to the leftovers as much as the dinner. And the
So tell me, what does a Jewish someone do who has confessed their sins to their bloggy friends?
Oh- and I am now on Twitter. Follow me @Swirlgirlspearl . (leave the 's' off for savings)
( I seriously need a Twit-torial ...something for the dim-Twit-witted. Is there a book called Tweeting for Dummies? If not, great idea for a book, right?)
13 comments:
I used to feel that way about massages until my chiropractor started offering them for free. Now I could care less who's touching my nekkidness and I never think about what they're thinking. To me they've become nameless, faceless entities whose soul purpose is to make me feel good. Because I don't have to pay.
P.S. If you need some gluttony for this week, I've got more than enough to go around. But you might have to beg a little, I'm not real big on sharing.
Can't help you with the confession thingy, I'm just a sinful Episcopalian, but I'm thinking you'd better make it 5 Bloody Marys, just to cover your bases - then consider yourself absolved.
And this - "That is about as useless as a Mom's college degree" - Lord how I wish I wrote that!! Brilliant, and I have a college degree so I know brilliant :-)
yahoo! great post.
And I am on twitter. I'll follow you and you follow me and it'll be one awesome follow fest! :)
I can't stand massages! It's just too intimate for me. I really don't want anyone in my space at all.
I'm gonna go follow you on twitter right now!
I love massages. But it does make one wonder why I have not cashed in the gift card I received last year for Christmas!
Oh...and we are so addicted to 30 Rock. It is really one of the best shows on...I just love it!
ahhhh, on the other hand, I enjoy the nice massage (female masseuse of course)...it is nearly comical for me to feel how tentative they get when they get close to the "zone", ya know? They are OK going slightly up the ass cheek, but when they turn you on your back, it's no man's land for them when they get near the fun zone...hahahaha
Hehehehe... I've had a gift certificate for a massage from Mother's day FOUR fucking years ago... sitting in my desk drawer.
Notsomuch with people touching me either.
I got myself a Twitter account, but haven't yet Tweeted (Twatted?)
Happy SITS Saturday Sharefest! :)))
I am so glad you had just visited SITS before me, your blog entry was very fun to read and it was nice getting to know you. :))
My blog has lots of pics come visit sometime.
http://www.decoratorondemand.blogspot.com
Have a WONDERFUL Thanksgiving with your house full!!!! Looking forward to your Gluttony entry afterwards. ;)
P.S. Will follow you on Twitter most definitely, it's easy and addictive. :)
By the way, I couldn't find you on Twitter, so find me @decondemand. You may want to consider adding a Twitter bug to your blog. ;))))
Happy SITS! I caught your blog a few above in the cue and had to visit--I am a massage junkie, with teh right massuese I am a new woman. Thanks for your fun candor :-)
My ex married a massage therapist soon after our divorce. His personality just "rubs me" the wrong way....Sorry.
Alcohol kills the germs ... and guilt. So I hear.
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