Sunday, September 30, 2007


Some people need to learn to relax.

Existentialism for Dummies: You can't control what happens to you, BUT you can control how you react or respond to events.

I wonder what the coroner will discover...

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Tip Karma

I never question tip karma.

My friends are always flabbergasted when they see me hand the valet five bucks, while they usually leave two or three (which is the norm around here).

I merely reply, "Tip karma."

"Oh," they nod sagely.

That's right, Baby, I believe in tip karma.

What goes around comes around, and that goes triple for tips.

At least, that's my hope.

I can't figure out people's tipping habits, so I don't even bother trying, and it's worse than futile to get upset at poor or nonexistent tips.

Take today, for instance.

I did a one-hour hot stone massage on a lady. Cost = $125, tip = $10.

Then I did a half-hour shoulders, neck, and back massage. Cost = $60, tip = $20!


See, it makes no sense!

Some days every other client will stiff you, other days everyone is very generous.

It has no rhyme or reason, so why worry? It all balances out, and as long as I'm generous to others, the Tip Gods will be generous to me.

Hear that, Tip Gods? I've been good, honest! Don't forget about me, pleeeeeease?

*crickets chirping*

Oh, well.

Friday, September 28, 2007

I wanna...

I really, really want to attend this class.

With my daughter.

Unfortunately, I don't have a few grand lying around collecting dust.

Maybe when I massage a slumming billionaire, who is so taken by my skills he hires me to be his personal massage therapist for a cool million a year, I'll be able to afford it.


What I'm reading right now:

This awesome book by Naomi Novik, fourth in the Temeraire series, which has been optioned by Peter Jackson, YOU know, the LOTR and King Kong guy, to be made into a movie!

I've always enjoyed reading historical novels set in this time period, mainly romances, so sue me! The juxtaposition of the Napoleonic Wars and dragons really trips my trigger.


I also started this one, book number four of Jim Butcher's Dresden Files.

I have no clue how I missed this series the first time around, it really escapes me (pun intended, hyuk-hyuk!).

I also just finished reading the new Daisy Dalrymple mystery, by Carola Dunn, which is a part of a cozy mystery series set in England between the World Wars.

Extremely historically detailed, very well plotted and written.

I recommend highly!

I know it seems like I read a lot, but to me this is merely a trickle compared to the tsunami of reading I'm capable of.

At my last job, if we weren't busy, I could surf the 'net or read, whatever I wanted.

It was COOL.

I live in the real world now, where it is frowned upon (and usually leads to termination) to be caught reading on the job.

Woe is me, I don't have enough time for books (that's why stuff like the following happens, I'm too busy reading to use a knife and fork!)

Snippet reposted from 9/17/07:

At lunch I learned, again, that I should put my book down once in a while, especially if I'm going to be eating pork ribs.

Barbecue pork ribs.

I had the book in my right hand and the rib in my left, when the barbecue sauce caused the rib to slip right through my fingers, onto my chest.

Gravity took over and the tasty, yet stupid thing rolled merrily to the floor, leaving a trail of bright, brick-red barbecue sauce behind, all the way down my khaki uniform shirt.

In massage news:

I massaged a lady today who had a miscarriage two days ago.

To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement!

Not necessarily doing the massage, but I had to ask her all sorts of icky questions first, like was she still bleeding heavily (duh), was she cramping (actually, no), had the fetal tissue passed (yes, which is great, 'cause I really didn't want it to happen on my massage table), how far along had she been (nine weeks, GULP!).

She seemed very calm, which made sense after she explained that they had known it was going to happen, just not exactly when.

I also massaged a redneck.


His back was pale with a sprinkling of freckles, but from the base of his neck (about where a shirt collar would leave off!) up into his hair, his skin was tomato red.

Including his ears.

No sunburn, just long-term sun damage, I assume.

Oh, well. I hope he goes to his dermatologist regularly, to check for cancers...

That's all for now, hope you have a great weekend!


BTW...did any of you notice how many links I added in this post?


Well, I did them all by myself! I'm so proud, I didn't have to ask my daughter for help ONCE.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Saturday (the 15th, not the 22nd)

Well, since I'm so lame as to post about something I did that happened over a week ago, I'm going to be extra-cruel and post pictures!


So, Silver and I, after I got home from work, headed over here to join some friends for a delicious meal, then we went over here for some cosmic bowling.

There were wildfires in California at the time, and the smoke caused a spectacular sunset, which Silver captured with our cheapo camera. Not bad, huh?

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We bowled two games, but due to some mysterious ailment which caused me to, hmmm, how do I put this delicately? Rapidly and forcefully void my bowels, I missed the entire second game.
I suck at bowling, anyway, but I still would have loved to play.
I was so out of it after my "little episode" that my friend, N. had to drive me home while his wife, C. and son, Z. followed in their vehicle.

Here's N. in a contemplative pose (I think he's strategizing his game!)

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And here's my old friend, C., N.'s wife. We worked together in our TWO previous places of employment! She calls this pic "Cheesecake"!

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Here's their offspring, Z., looking demonic!

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And my daughter Silver, in her favorite men's dragon shirt:

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She and Z. get along like a house on fire (whatever the hell that means!), even though there is an over 5 years age difference between them.

Silver is definitely not your typical teenage girl, and that's a GOOD thing!

Here is Dr. Kevin, who wanted me to put his whole frickin' name but got boycotted by moi! He is a former boss but definitely then, now and always a friend.

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He's so goofy, but he just can't help it, Folks!
In the background of his pic you see this lady, R., Dr. Kevin's wife and a new friend to all of us!

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Last but definitely not least is H., our organizer. Without her, we'd probably always SAY we need to get together, but never manage to actually schedule or arrange anything. She's our hero!

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Here's a shot of H. and Dr. Kevin, mugging for the camera.
I have no clue who that dumb broad is in the background, she just jumped in as the picture was being taken.

The nerve of some people!

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So that was my Saturday night, a week and a half ago.

How's that for up-to-date blogging, People?

Monday, September 24, 2007



10 times.

'Nuff said.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Hat Trick!


I did it, I surpassed my record and made three clients snore today.


First there was the lady who had only had two hours of sleep, since she flew in early this morning, so I guess that's cheating.

She was also the first "moaner" I've ever had.


"Oh, yeah!"

"That feels sooooo gooood"

I felt a craving for a cigarette after the massage, and I'm a non-smoker!

Thankfully the snoring commenced before I felt too disturbed.

She also asked me for tips for "intimate" massage (she's getting married on Saturday and wants to do something "special" for her groom Sunday morning)...I didn't feel qualified to provide that information! I told her not to use too much pressure, since pulling out hair is always bad. Then I recommended just doing what "felt good".


Whatever happened to blow jobs, anyway?! That's pretty special in my book (and her hubby would probably appreciate it more, too, especially if she swallows.)

The second snorer was a young man with a very Indian name and look (Indian as in the subcontinent, not Columbus' delusions).

When he greeted me, however, he sounded as American as apple pie, with a Texas drawl and all!

He even called me "Ma'am", which makes me feel very old.

Turns out he's a twenty-one-year-old from Houston, who's a Lance Corporal in the Marines, and he's deploying to Iraq on Monday.

He's in Vegas with his Mom and girlfriend for one last hurrah (or is that "Ooh-rah"?) before he leaves for the desert.

After the massage was done I shook his hand, wished him luck, and told him to come back in one piece. He told me he'd be back in Vegas upon his return and would look me up for another massage!

The final snorer in my hat trick was my last client of the day. I'd already done six massages and was beat, then this couple walks in while I'm in what I THOUGHT was my final session and books a side-by-side massage for our last slot available.

And it was a deep tissue massage AND he was a very thick-bodied man. Not fat, just big.

I lowered the massage table 'til it practically resembled a coffee table to give myself more leverage.

Then I went to town!

I even kneeled on the table while I was stripping his pecs, just to have more "oomph"!

It didn't keep him from falling asleep, though!

Ah, the melodious sound of snoring is sweet to my ears.

I'd like take this moment to thank my client, Mr. L., for wearing socks and informing me of the fact that he has athlete's foot.

I really appreciate his consideration, 'cause I don't want to have a funky fungal infection on my hands (literally!).

And yes, I promise to see "Mamma Mia" as soon as possible, but I'll have to seriously think about it before I consider auditioning, even if I AM the "Dancing Queen".

Even though I'm 37, not 17.

And people, I'm done harping about the underwear thing, you know where I stand on that issue, but please, PLEASE, shower before your service!

My face is awfully close to your ass when I'm doing a forearm stroke from your ankle to up and over your glute, and I don't appreciate funk, especially if you add old-lady odor into it.


Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Marching Band, wheeeee!

Okay, here are the pictures I threatened you with promised you.

Of course, I'll have way cooler pics the first Friday in October, 'cause it's HOMECOMING!!!

The band will have their brand-spankin' new uniforms, and they'll perform their entire competition show at half-time. I can't wait!

Here's Silver, taking a break.

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And here she is, working hard.

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Here's the cute caution tape they found somewhere that they use to section off bleachers for the band.

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More posts and pics to follow about Saturday night. Live from...oh, wait. Wrong show.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Blog Pimpage!

My daughter Silver has finally updated her blog, and I'd like to direct all six of my readers to it!

Silver's Blog...

AKA "My Blog Pwns your Blog!"

Go. Read. It's funny!

Chip off the old block...

Monday, September 17, 2007

Photobucket sucks.

Trying to get all sorts of pics here, but Photobucket SUCKS, and Photobucket Beta locks my computer up every time I try to use it.

Saturday morning, I had an experience that would have been extremely enjoyable were I a guy or gay.

We have to go up a very steep set of metal stairs from the lower level of the hotel to the casino floor after we clock in.

I had the joy of going up the steps right behind two cocktail waitresses.

It was necessary to keep my gaze focused on my feet, because otherwise I got a perfect up-the-skirt view of the waitresses' panties. I don't swing that way, and didn't need to have their ass-cheeks in my face.

I get enough of ass-cheeks at work!

When I entered "my" treatment room in the women's spa (not really mine, but mine on Fridays and Saturdays), I was greeted by a sight to warm the cockles of a book-a-holic's heart...
my colleague K., also a reader, had gotten to work before me and left a bag of books for me on the massage table.


I love surprises, and I LOVE new books!

K. and I share a taste for fantasy and SF, especially military SF, and we've been swapping books since we became aware of each other's interest.

When I was headed to lunch, I passed a men's room and three employees came out, giggling hysterically.

I don't want to know.

And if it was anything involving pointing and laughing, I REALLY don't want to know!

At lunch I learned, again, that I should put my book down once in a while, especially if I'm going to be eating pork ribs.

Barbecue pork ribs.

I had the book in my right hand and the rib in my left, when the barbecue sauce caused the rib to slip right through my fingers, onto my chest.

Gravity took over and the tasty, yet stupid thing rolled merrily to the floor, leaving a trail of bright, brick-red barbecue sauce behind, all the way down my khaki uniform shirt.

I knew I had a service a half hour after lunch, so I raced upstairs to the spa and proceeded to strip (hey, I was wearing a sports bra and it's the WOMEN'S spa, so I didn't give a crap who saw me) and scrub my shirt with hand soap and washcloths.

After I had removed almost all of the evidence of my clumsiness, I used the one of the blow-dryers we have available for the guests' use and dried the shirt, too.

I didn't want to look like I was a (non-winning!) contestant in a wet T-shirt contest!

So I was clean, dry, and serviceable (g) when it was time for my next client.

It was only later that I remembered I carry "Tide to Go" in my purse.


Friday night I spent three endless hours at my daughter's high school, watching a horrid football game.

Our team lost, of course, but not quite as badly as last week. Only 35 to 13, not 35 to 6.

I'd insert some frickin' pictures here, but as I said before, Photobucket sucks!

I've been trying to upload twenty pictures, but it's gotten stuck on image number 4, and when I click "cancel", nothing happens.

So I'll stop here until I get the stupid pictures, 'cause I have a lot of pics from our Saturday night bowling excursion with a bunch of old friends of ours.

Friday, September 14, 2007

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly...with apologies to Clint Eastwood!

The good is that I got off early from work today.

The bad is I got sent home early because I had no services booked this afternoon, and they don't want to pay me to sit around twiddling my thumbs!

The ugly is the taxi driver I almost t-boned on my drive home, because he sailed through a stop sign while talking on his cell-phone and made a left turn directly in front of me.

I only flipped him the bird because he flipped me off first! (I was honking at him.)

It would have been really ugly had we connected, because I drive an '03 Hyundai Accent and he was in one of those monster SUV taxis we have around here.

I had two services this morning, an hour Swedish massage and a half-hour shoulder, neck, and back massage.

The half-hour massage client was a young man from Venice, Italy, here with his brother who's competing in a Texas Hold-em tournament.

Let me say one thing completely objectively...this man was gorgeous.

I think I got a little flustered while I introduced myself and escorted him to the room, but by the time I started the massage, I was all business again (thank God!)

It's funny, when I massage someone I'm totally in the zone, it doesn't matter who they are or what they look like, but I really did have that one moment when I first saw this client, when I was thinking, "Gulp!"

We really have some bone-headed employees at this hotel.

The time office where we all clock in and out is located next to the loading dock, underneath the pool area (freaky, I know).

The boneheads in question were hosing down the approach ramp to the dock, and somehow failed to notice the malfunctioning drain...oops!

So, on my way to clock in this morning, I was greeted by the sight of a lovely pond, with iridescent oil slicks shimmering on its surface.

And a delivery truck with its hub caps awash.


How I wish I'd had my camera with me!

Speaking of cameras, here is a picture of something I received at work a few days ago:

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Notice how it says I was "caught" giving Five Star Friendly Service...sounds suspicious to me!

These come from the HR department, and nobody will tell me what I did to earn it.

I can turn this in at the cash cage for 10 bucks, so that's not too shabby.

Probably I kissed a customer's ass enough, uh, I mean I was so courteous and professional to a guest that he or she filled out a comment card raving about me.

It will forever remain a mystery, since I called HR to ask them about it, and the lady I spoke with told me she is literally "not privy to that information".


And here are some pics of my puppies, just for fun!

I actually got Harley to sit for a second, notice the area rug behind him that's slowly being shredded.

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And here's Tucker. Couldn't get him to sit, since he thought the camera was food and started jumping up at me! So I gave him a bone to chew, instead:

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That's all for now. I'll probably have some pics later of Silver at the football game, playing her clarinet with the marching band.

Such thrills I offer you! How can you possibly contain yourselves?!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Messing with people's heads!

While I was working the front desk today, a couple came in to look around the fitness area and ask some questions.

I could tell from the gentleman's accent that they were from Germany, and when they started talking, I answered their questions in German.

It took them at least thirty seconds to realize I was speaking German to them, and it was a lot of fun to see the shocked expression on their faces!

The only time I refrain from mentioning my knowledge of the language is when Swiss people come into the spa...their dialect is pretty much incomprehensible to me!

The folks today were from Bavaria...that's difficult enough for a Berliner to decipher!

The only problem I had is switching back and forth. The gentleman requested a tour of the men's spa, of course I can't go in there, so I paged the attendant.
When he didn't show within thirty seconds (I demand rapid response!), I turned to ask my co-worker D. where he was.

I said, "Wo ist R.?"...oops!

The Germans found it amusing, needless to say!

In other news, a lady flew in from Houston via Beverly Hills today, needing a gentle massage recommended by her plastic surgeon after her liposuction procedure.
You'd think she would know to go to a medical spa of some sort, not come to a hotel spa!

She left soiled bandages for us to dispose of, bled all over the place, caused us to have to call security and file an incident report, and made it necessary for housekeeping to sterilize everything she came in contact with.
Not to mention discarding her robe (which was new), and all the sheets and towels she used.

She was very nice, though, albeit hopped up on painkillers and alcohol, and tipped A. 10 bucks.

We really do get all sorts here. Well, it certainly keeps things interesting.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007


I had yesterday off, and felt it was the perfect opportunity to hit the gym.

The massive company who owns the casino I work at has recently opened a health and wellness center for its employees. This includes a state-of-the-art fitness center, staffed by highly trained fitness experts. And all of this is free.


Did I mention it's located directly on my route to and from work?

So no more excuses, I need to get in shape and lose weight.

Yesterday was my cardio day, and I planned on doing my usual hour on the elliptical machine.

I did exactly 1 minute, 30 seconds, got off the machine, went home and took a nap.

I felt singularly UNmotivated. Not only did I not exercise yesterday, I also ate a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

Can you say I suck?

Anyway, I felt just as crappy this morning, but had an appointment with my trainer to go over my strength training, and luckily once we got started I felt jazzed up again.

I also eschewed my usual one cup of coffee, and I think that's why I feel pretty darn good right now. Caffeine has wacky effects on me, and it's definitely better when I avoid it like the plague.

That's all for now, feel free to comment...since I'm a comment WHORE, dammit!!!

Speaking of slacking...

Go ahead and comment, People, even if you just say, "You suck!", or even, "WOW, you suck!"

That's better than silence.

Monday, September 10, 2007


Hello, my name is Christina and I'm a "Hairspray"-oholic.

I'm obsessed with this movie, and I don't know exactly why.

Don't get me wrong, the movie is definitely fantastic, but why see it NINE times in the theater?!

I sing along to the freakin' soundtrack in my car, absolutely increasing my dork-factor to the nth power.

Do I need help?

Or just a good dose of James Marsden...;)

You tell me!

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Note to self...

never turn the lights in the treatment room down so low that you run the risk of falling asleep alongside your snoring client.

Also, dozing off while doing a scalp and neck massage may cause you to head-butt said client, which in no way engenders customer satisfaction.

Thankfully, this is a worst-case scenario; it didn't go quite that far...

Thursday, September 06, 2007


File this one under "TMI".

I was on an areola-hair search and destroy mission (more like destroy only, I know exactly where that bugger grows, and my tweezers never miss!), and I discovered the hard way that even 8 weeks after delivering, with no nursing at all, my breasts still have milk in them...

I shot myself in the eye.

At least milk doesn't leave one permanently blinded.

And I think I'll call my OB tomorrow, 'cause this just ain't right!

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Sanitation Wars

Not to be politically incorrect, or anything, but the knowledge of proper hygiene of too many of the foreign-born employees at the casino leaves much to be desired.

It doesn't matter how many training sessions or orientations they have, either.

Countless times I've seen dealers, waitresses, you name it, leaving the restroom without washing their hands, or only washing with water, no soap.

It makes me want to vomit.

Yesterday in the cafeteria I was in line behind a gentleman of foreign extraction, who was very particular in his requirements for good bread.

I wanted some sourdough bread to make a roast beef sandwich (mmmm, meat), so I waited as he took a slice out of the plastic bag, pressed it with his fingers to check its freshness, held it to his face to sniff it, then put it back in the bag because it was apparently not up to code.

I had a meltdown.

Me: Oh no, do not put that bread back, eat it or throw it away!

Him: I can't throw bread away!

Me: I don't care, you are not leaving that bread there, that's totally unsanitary, take it, or throw it away!

I guess he could sense I was seconds away from beating him about the head with my lunch tray, 'cause he took the slice back out of the bag and popped it into the toaster.

One minor skirmish won in the Sanitation Wars.

I shall not be defeated!

By the way, this is about as rude as I get. I guess I'm overly socialized...

And this is a good time to remind everyone to always use hand-sanitizer when you gamble at a really don't want to know what the employees do or don't do behind the scenes!

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Payback is a bitch...literally!

Mr. Creepy from my previous post came back to the spa Sunday, my off day.

I had already warned my colleague A. about him, so she was prepared for his shenanigans.

When she was working on his upper thigh, while he was face up, and he flopped his leg to the side and asked her to work "right up here" on his inner thigh, she did a forearm stroke to the edge of the sheet while saying, "Okay, I'll massage up to HERE!"
When she said "here", she dug her elbow with quite a lot of pressure into a tender part of his thigh, pretty near his junk!

Ahhhh, revenge is sweet!

She didn't hear another peep out of him for the rest of the massage.

A., a very dignified young lady, surprised me during a side-by-side massage, where we massage two people in the same room.

Normally the spa music is what you'd expect, New Age-y, lots of harps and woodwinds, or else faux-Native American with throbbing drums and chanting. Let's not forget the lovely nature sounds intermixed with soft jazz!

During this session, we actually got some up-beat music, with a harder edge.
I glanced over at her (thankfully both clients were still face down!), and she looked at me and started head-banging, with a sneer worthy of Billy Idol distorting her mouth!

I almost died!

Have you ever had to keep totally silent while busting a gut laughing?

I don't recommend it.

It took me nearly five minutes to calm down, and I almost kicked A.'s ass after the session.
Or at least I was very tempted to.

If you've read my comments on other blogs, or read my profile, you know I love Metal/Hard Rock music.
Rammstein, Godsmack, Metallica, and Iron Maiden, among others, really trip my trigger.

So listening to the crappy "soothing" spa music all day makes me weep.

The worst was hearing a Muzak version of "Kumbaya".

I'm not kidding.

I was in the middle of a session, and all I wanted to do was locate the nearest campfire and roast some marshmallows.

After busting the composer's head in.


Before I start a new week at work, I want to share some highlights from last week.

I massaged a 90-year-old woman, who immigrated from Mexico to the U.S. in 1945.
She met a German immigrant in Washington, D.C. in 1948, and they fell in love and were married for 33 years before he died of cancer, which is the tragedy of her life.
She spoke of him with such passion in her voice, that I teared up when she told me about his death (which was 26 years ago!). Crying while giving a massage is never a good idea.

I also want to rescind my "no underwear" rule in very special cases, such as this:
If you don't understand the instruction "slide BETWEEN the sheets, face down, with your face in the face rest.", you have my permission to keep your undies on, 'K?!
Otherwise I might have a leetle shock when I reenter the room.

My daughter intends on going to college at the University of North Dakota, in Grand Forks, so it was very cool to have a client who not only has lived in Grand Forks all her life, but also attended UND. I picked her brain during the entire massage!

It was bound to happen. I guess you'd say it was inevitable. I finally had my first creepy client.
I scoured the internet to find a picture that reminded me of this fella, but struck out.
If you've ever seen the cheesy 70's movie "Earthquake", and you remember the dude who tried to rape Victoria Principal's character, you know what this client looked like.
He was a construction worker from North Carolina, about 6'2", with a black goatee and mustache, but blond, curly, almost afro-like hair (which was not a wig!).
The massage started out fine, he had some issues with sciatica (he said), and wanted work on his thighs and glutes primarily.
No problem, said I!
But when he started pulling the sheet aside, to tell me exactly where he wanted the deepest strokes, I started feeling the heebie-jeebies.
He never quite crossed the line, it's like he knew just how far to push it before I'd break off the session, but he got very, very close. Anytime you have to tell your client that you can't massage their gluteal cleft (aka "ass crack"), you have a problem!
He also asked me if he could extend the massage, but thankfully he was my last client, so I told him I went off-shift after our session, then he asked if I could work overtime! Thankfully, again, this is not allowed. When I mentioned that the male massage therapists had some openings, he quickly declined!

After the massage was over, I told my (young, male) boss about it, and he ran back to the men's spa to check this guy out.
When he came back, the first thing he said was, "Is he wearing a wig?!", then he proceeded to tell me not to worry, the guy was only "this big", and my boss was only holding finger and thumb about two inches apart. That made me laugh!

Anyway, it's back to work now, hopefully I'll have more stories to share!

Have a great week, Folks.

One more thing. I just wanted to make very clear that I never, ever initiate conversation with a client during a session. I know it seems like I jabber the whole time, but I only talk with clients if they start the conversation. Anything else would be inappropriate and unprofessional!