Massaging the Muscles… and the mind
Before we get started, let me give one of my very best girlfriends from college a shout out. Becky started a blog and she’s way funnier than I am, so go check it out! Add her to your reader. Even though it’s a fresh blog, it’s going to be great. I can feel it.
Today was Me Day. I slept in late, took a long hot shower, then hit the town. Well, I window shopped. I finally got around to buying Idina Menzel’s new CD, I Stand, and The Kite Runner, which I’ve heard is amazing but never had the time to read. Now I’m face to face with Memorial Day weekend, during which I shall have no internet and no connection to the outside world… just miles and miles of family and food…. and now, great literature.
After some Me Time reading the first few chapters of The Kite Runner over a caramel macchiato, I headed to the salon. I didn’t go to the one I linked to previously. I feel like I have to note that in case someone from that spa found my blog… and I have a few things to say about my day at the day spa.
All in all, Me Time at the Spa was AWESOME. Firstly, I got my hair trimmed and some layers put into it. I liked the length it was, but it was looking pretty dead at the ends. So, nothing drastic. But the girl who cut my hair was adorable and I guess it’s standard to give scalp massages and hot tea. What? For $25? Really? I’m so not used to that.
After the haircut, I went for my 90 minute hot rock massage. Uh, hello, bliss? Are you knocking? Come right in! The next time I do it, I’ll skip the hot rock part. Not totally worth the extra cash. Good for a splurge, but hands are good enough. The massage was uh-ma-zing. Really. But the masseuse? Well, let me just say, she’s the kind of person I love to hate.
Hate is a strong word.
She’s the kind of person that irritates the SHIT out of me.
Platinum blonde. Defined by her accomplishments. Brags about how all seven of her tattoos are Christian because she’s soooo Christian. Emphasizes organic foods and natural diets. Discusses her boob job and a couple nips and tucks. Loves her retro turntable and Atari but -don’t worry- she has a flat screen in every room. Talks about that super fancy steak house up the street like everyone’s been there. Says northern Indiana is way behind the times on everything. (true.)
Okay, let me just say, if you’re soooo Christian, isn’t your body your temple? So… why are we discussing boob jobs and tattoos? And if you’re soooo healthy, why are you pumping saline into your chest and ink into your skin? And doesn’t the Bible tell you not to flaunt your Christianity? To go in a closet to pray?
You know, I sincerely hope that I can live comfortable when I hit the Real World. I hope that 90 minute massages will be a luxury I can afford regularly. I hope “splurging” won’t mean paying full price at Target. I hope I have a flat screen TV (just one will do). And I hope, occasionally, the Beau Named Joe can take me out to fancy schmancy steakhouses.
But I also sincerely hope that when this happens, I don’t become fucking delusional. I hope I remember where I came from… that my mom worked 12 hour days to put me through college, that I was blessed with the opportunity to attend a great school, that I made it out with less than $20,000 debt, that I was born and raised in Northern Indiana and that’s something to be proud of, that I have 34-C’s and THAT’s something to be proud of, that I have a faith that’s personal and no one else has to believe what I do… I hope I don’t become another uptight ostentatious snob who doesn’t know what else to do with her money but show it off and throw it around.
That being said, it was an amazing massage and I’d totally go back.