Can't get it out of my head

The current song on continuous play inside my noggin:

"Empty Walls", by Serj Tankian of System of a Down fame.

I just saw the video for the first time and am equally creeped out and blown away by it.



Anyone who can come up with lyrics like these, and sing them repeatedly without getting his tongue tangled, totally ROCKS:

Don't you see their bodies burning
desolate and full of yearning
dying of anticipation
choking from intoxication

I also love this little tidbit that he sings in the background toward the end of the song:

I loved you yesterday, before you killed my family...

He does all the vocals himself on this song.

Incredible. Superglued inside my brain.

Wow.

Just drinking my coffee and checking out my SiteMeter report, and already I've come across some weird Google searches:

gluteal cleft massage

Come on now, I TOLD you that's a no-no!

spanking home coming

I really don't want to know.

massage tales

Somehow I have the feeling that the kind of stories I tell aren't the ones this person is looking for...

nice mom

Awwwwww. Thanks!

bjork sucks

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!! This search popped up FOUR TIMES.

massage breast bolster

I don't know how much MY blog can help you with that one...

milky mamas

???

lucrative pain

From the location, I know this was my big brother, who I guess didn't want to ask me for the url...

I LOVE SiteMeter.

Only my daughter...

could look at me calmly from across the table at our favorite Chinese restaurant and say:

"I need some evil minions."

One thing you definitely don't want to hear...

after you ask your client how he's doing today (and he's already on the table), "Hungover!"

Crap.

Karma?

I must have done something right, because not only was there a check from my Dad in the mailbox today (and let it be known that my Dad is, shall we say, frugal), but there was also a notice stuck in my door from the apartment management, stating I had a credit on my account and should subtract $85.00 from January's rent!

I have no idea what credit they are referring to, but I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. My name was on the letter and everything!

Now I don't have to sweat this semester's tuition! Yay! I can enroll in the two classes I need to take.

What a relief.

Christmas Day

I hope all of you had a lovely Christmas!

I had to work from 8 to 1 on Christmas Day, but I was sneaky. I exploited a loophole, booked my daughter an eyebrow waxing at 8, and was able to take her to work with me. See, having a service entitles the guest to the use of the facilities at the spa for the entire day, so Silver got to sit in the jacuzzi and chill while I was busting my ass doing massages.

Yup, for some bizarre reason it was actually busy, a rare occurrence at this time of year, according to the "oldtimers" at the spa.

After work, we went straight to the Rio, to the Carnival World Buffet, our favorite, for Christmas dinner. It's never made sense to me to cook the whole holiday meal for two people.

We had to wait for about an hour-an-a-half just to get in, but boy, was it worth it!
Of course, being me, we had a nifty little bottle of hand sanitizer on our table and used it religiously. Some of the other patrons grossed me out!

After getting home, and taking naps, glorious naps, we played MapleStory, a free on-line MMORPG. Silver convinced me to create a character, and now we go bravely forth, together, to slay cartoon snails and cute, but deadly mushrooms.

All in all, a very fun Christmas!

A (Sad) Sign of our Times...

I didn't know it was for sale.

On my way home from work today...

I saw a man pissing on the side of a dumpster.

Such are the joys of my life.

Also, just as I was getting into my blog-reading, two Mormon Missionaries appeared at my door.

Silver concurs with me that I was extremely polite, but I did tell them that I couldn't talk with them about religion because I didn't want to get REALLY ANGRY.

They get bonus points for admiring my dogs.

5 Worst Ways to Wake Up

1. Alarm clock

2. Banging/slamming drawers, cupboards, microwave doors, etc.

3. Being licked on my inner thigh...BY MY DOG (eeewwww)

4. Being licked on my face (b.m.d.)

5. Being licked anywhere else (b.m.d.)

"Breakroom Conversations" or "Christina is Weird!"

A few days ago G., the lead aesthetician at the spa, celebrated her birthday.

My colleague B. brought in a delicious cake and we performed the obligatory serenade before scarfing down the goodies.

One of us asked, "Anybody got milk?"

B., mother of an infant and currently breastfeeding, jokingly raised her hand, causing all of us to start laughing.

I was staring at B., a bizarre thought in my head, and she caught me at it.

Busted!

B.: What?!

Me: Oh, it's nothing, really!

B.: Seriously, what's going on?

Me: Well, I was just wondering...if a lactating woman were stranded on a desert island, how long could she survive by living off of her own breast milk...?

B.: You're weird, you know that? You read too much!
(Implying, I suppose, that all the fiction I read makes my imagination go wild.)

Me(thinking): *That's not possible. There's no such thing as reading too much.*

Hmmm, let me see...the answer is NO!!!

Had a lady come in with her mom today for a side-by-side massage.

They were of foreign extraction, though I'm not sure of the flavor.

She proceeded to tell the front desk people, loudly and with other guests present, that she was having her period.

Why, you ask? Because she was of the opinion she should get a longer massage AT NO EXTRA CHARGE because she wasn't able to use the facilities (the jacuzzi, sauna, and steam room) due to being on the rag.

Excuse me, Lady, but how is it OUR problem that you're riding the menstrual train?

Ever heard of tampons?

Needless to say we denied her request, but the massage went very smoothly regardless.

She was very happy with the service and actually tipped me SIX WHOLE DOLLARS!!! (/sarcasm)

Bring it...

28


H/T to AD

Client Vignettes

I really love my job. One of the best parts about it is all the wonderful, interesting people I meet.

Many of my clients don't say a word during the massage, and that's fine! I just let my mind wander, and it's almost like a mini-nap, very refreshing.

But when the client and I get to chatting, that's when it gets interesting.

In no particular order, here's a run-down of some of my clients over the past week or two:

- the Paris Hilton look-alike. I have to say that I immediately jumped to certain conclusions about her, which she proceeded to demolish. Bad Christina, no cookie for you! She was extremely friendly and personable, and a very good tipper (always a bonus).

- the ER doc from Colorado, who commutes to a hospital in Oklahoma. He spends his spare time ridding Oklahoma of feral pigs, which are apparently a plague, since they breed like rabbits and have no predator besides man.
He also bow-hunts and cooks for the nurses and other staff at the ER. What was remarkable about him was the absence of the notorious "doctor's ego"; as a matter of fact he told me that he didn't hang out with other doctors for just that reason. A really down-to-earth gentleman.

- the Education professor from Arkansas, who just lost her husband a few months ago.
"I teach others how to teach," is how she put it. Sometimes I feel like a hairdresser, considering the things people tell me, a total stranger! She talked and talked about her late husband, who just dropped dead with no warning signs whatsoever.

- the naive pharmaceutical rep from Pennsylvania, married with four children, who asked me, "Are the girls in the back of the truck?" while referring to these, seen everywhere on the Strip and in its vicinity.

And my personal fave:

- the 25-year-old farrier from Michigan, who was raised Amish, decided it wasn't for him, started his own business at 19, and now has to refuse new clients because he's too busy. He also dreams of going pro as a calf-roper and bull-rider. I googled his name and found some of his local stats. Cool. When he's famous, I'll squee like a fangirl and ask him if he needs a personal full-time massage therapist!

---

As much as I bitch about clients leaving their underwear on, I never thought I'd see a woman who left her BRA on! What an idiot! J., who was her therapist during the side-by-side massage (I was massaging hubby, who had ALL his clothes off, thankyouverymuch), had to ask her politely to remove the bra.

I also massaged a gentleman with an invisible ass. Seriously, this man was completely flat from shoulders to feet. Baby did NOT have back! It was just kinda odd, and threw me off a little.

Bjork sucks.

After we had dinner at the Rio, we headed across the street to the Palms, one of only two casinos we go to to watch movies.

Fandango tickets in hand, we had plenty of time before the movie was scheduled to begin.

UNFORTUNATELY, Bjork is having a concert tonight at the Pearl theater at the Palms.

Which means we couldn't find parking. At all.

We left without seeing Will Smith's rippling, naked muscles on the big screen.

That's truly a sacrifice.

Now I can only hope that they honor the tickets tomorrow when we go to the afternoon show...

Etiquette Question

So, my dear readers, I have a question for you. Mainly for the Texicans out there (and anyone else who lives in a place where cowboy hats are popular).

Is it considered de rigueur to keep one's hat on one's head when eating in a restaurant?

Silver and I were at the Carnival World Buffet at the Rio this evening, which is touted as Las Vegas' largest, and there was a veritable sea of hats-on-heads visible.

I've mentioned a time or two (or three, or four...) that I have a liking for cowboys, which goes into overdrive during NFR every year. I'd hate to have my illusions (and fantasies!) shattered due to bad manners!

I'm waiting to be educated. Thanks.

More Pissed-offness...

at Silver's Pep band performance (aka "Varsity Basketball Game").

Here's Silver night before last at her symphonic orchestra concert (yes, that's a new hair color, yet again!):



And here she is last night at the basketball game:



I have a new pet peeve, if you will, to add to all the assholes who aggravated me at the concert the other night.

Obnoxious parents at high school sporting events.

I wanted to either put a bullet in my brain, or tear off my ears and stuff them in this dude's mouth, to shut him the hell up.

I wish someone would explain to him that screaming/chanting, "Defense - Defense - Defense - Defense!", or my favorite, "MORE Defense - MORE Defense - MORE Defense - MORE Defense!" for the entire duration of the game does not add anything to ANYONE'S experience of said game.

Not to mention potentially distracting the players, instead of "inspiring" them.

Of course, he mixed in, "Offense - Offense - Offense - Offense!" whenever our team had the ball.

He only stopped during timeouts.

I was never more glad for the sheer volume the band produces indoors, 'cause they were the only thing that drowned him out (briefly).

I feel like I'm surrounded by idiots.

Homicidal Rage

What the fuck is up with people today?

Since when is it okay to read a gossip rag IN THE MIDDLE OF A SCHOOL CONCERT?

I don't care if your Mom made you go and you couldn't give two shits about your dorky little sister's cello playing, you'd better show some respect.

The same goes for the assholes text messaging, talking, and eating.

I could feel the enamel on my back molars disintegrating under the pressure of the grinding and clenching I was subjecting them to. I visualized several scenarios where I would look like an ass, like jumping up and screaming, "Shut the FUCK UP! They're trying to PLAY here!"

Alas, that gratification shall remain fantasy.

But at least I have this blog.

The worst offenders were the couple whose son was a violinist in the advanced orchestra.

The mom spent the whole concert catching her son's performance on video, all the while completely ignoring her rampaging toddlers.

The "little darlings" scampered between the rows and in the aisles, the folding seats always hitting the seat backs with a bang! every time they got up. Also the one girl was shlepping a big bottle of gatorade around, except for when she repeatedly dropped it, causing a loud thump! followed by rumbling as it rolled downhill toward the stage, which both little girls found highly amusing. I wanted to smack the parents, constantly and soundly.

Hubby/Daddy just sat there, two rows behind them, like a lump, occasionally miming, "shhhhhh!", with his finger to his lips, causing the one fruit of his loins to mimic him by whistling like a steam kettle during a particularly touching orchestral movement.

Next time get abuela to watch the brats, okay? (Was that racist? Oh, well.)
It's not like the three-year-olds appreciated the cultural enrichment the parents were providing them, or that they would remember watching and listening to their brother play, anyway!

And who the hell dresses fraternal twins in matching, ugly and ratty pink sweat suits for a fucking concert, anyway?

Which leads me to also rant about appropriate dress. If the boys and girls on stage can wear tuxedos and formal gowns, respectively, why the hell are the audience members in jeans and sweats? Fucktards.

One concert down and one to go, plus about five more pepband performances to watch at the basketball games.

Oh, joy.

Fun

So far, my weekend has been non-catastrophic. That's good!

I took a "nap" that lasted until 3PM, with my pups providing extra warmth (my feet were cold).

Then Silver and I packed up and headed to the Palms. We had dinner at the Bistro Buffet (which really isn't all that special). Highlight there: A gal with a t-shirt bearing the slogan "I beat my boyfriend at Guitar Hero!"

That was amusing, at least to me.

Then we saw "The Golden Compass" at Brenden Theatres. Awesome, awesome movie. I don't know what crawled up the critics' collective ass, but I thought the movie people did a good job of translating the book to the screen. Didn't butcher it too much. Considering that the author of the trilogy, Philip Pullman, wrote the screenplay, that's not too surprising. Dakota Blue Richards, the girl who plays Lyra, did an outstanding job with the role.

That's it as far as reviewing goes, 'cause (as I've mentioned before), I really, really suck at writing reviews. I know when I like something, and when I don't, but don't ask me to explain why. I'll get Silver to write one, maybe, then I can link to it, since she LOVES writing reviews and critiques and is good at it, too.

That's my Sunday report, hope you all are having fun!

Drama

As a massage therapist there are many avenues of employment open to me. I chose the spa setting because I wanted a relaxing workplace environment, one where stress stays far, far away.

I guess I shoulda read the fine print, or something.

First off, the fact that business has been glacier slow has everyone at each other's throats. Needless to say everyone's paychecks have been affected, too.

Then there was the lovely scene we had on Wednesday, where six security guards, a mix of uniformed and plainclothes, arrived to "escort" two spa employees off the property.

So long! Have a nice life!

And if anyone knows what was going on, they're not talking. Which means the gossip-mill is running overtime.

The only info we got was a memo Thursday morning, informing the spa staff that Ms.C. and Mr.A had "resigned their positions", yeah right!

To cap it all off, like the cherry on top of a shit sundae, I had to refuse a service yesterday on a lady who was four weeks pregnant (hotel policy - NO massage whatsoever during the first trimester, and this lady hadn't even seen her OB yet). Since SHE couldn't get a massage, her two friends who were booked with other therapists cancelled, too.

Ms. Popularity I ain't at the moment, though really my colleagues were very cool about it.

Outside of the spa, I've had drama galore, too. Wednesday on my way to work a guy was furiously honking at me, until I dared to roll my window down to see what was up.

Turns out my brake lights weren't working. Great. I got out of work early (it's slow, remember?) and headed over to my mechanic. They had to practically take my car apart to figure out where the burnt-out switch was ('cause of course it couldn't be something as simple as a mere light-bulb replacement), and the new switch wasn't available from the dealership until Thursday morning. There goes my Christmas money.
Plus I had to walk home from the auto-shop AND walk back the next day to pick my car up. And I was late to work, too. Of course.

Let's not forget the little tid-bit about my dogs eating my glasses. Well, almost. They did chew them up and eat the nose pieces and temples. That was Wednesday night.

Then there was the necessity of taking one of my pups to the vet. Why? Because the little shit blows himself so much his doggie pecker got stuck in the "out" position!
After two days of exposure I figured I'd better get him checked out. Now I'm in the unique position of having to use "personal lubricant" on my dog's wang if it gets stuck again, oh joy. Hey, wouldn't some people pay money for pics of that? If it's YOU, I really don't want to know...

Hope you guys are having a great weekend.

I'm not going to curse myself by saying that my weekend couldn't be any worse than the week leading up to it.

Oh, shit, too late.

*UPDATE*
Forgot to mention the fact that I jacked-up my right thumb today, too. Which makes massaging people just a wee bit difficult. Not to mention typing. A bag of frozen peas is calling my name, c-ya...

Wha?

Excuse me, but I call bullshit.

Taken from the KLAS Channel 8 website:

A runner from Russia, Sylvia Skvortsova, won the Las Vegas Marathon 2007 with an unofficial finishing time of 2:29:02. The top men's finisher is Christopher Chebobibich from Kenya, who will take home $20,000. His unofficial finishing time was 2:16:49. The women are given an 18 minute lead in the race and this is the first time a woman has won the challenge.

How can someone WIN a marathon if she doesn't have the best time?
I'm not knocking Sylvia's accomplishment, which is remarkable, but just because she was the first person over the finish line doesn't make her the winner.

Honorable Mention

I've been honored by Joey at Vegas Links with a review and recommendation of my blog.

I'm so excited, I could squeeeeeee like a little girl (actually, I already did!)

This is a very nice start to my weekend, that's for sure.

Let me just say...

that I saw "too much" during a massage today.

I was getting ready to work on a guy's leg and glute, had already draped it, when he decided he wasn't comfortable enough and spread his legs

T H I S

F A R

on the table.

Unfortunately, the sheet stayed where I had put it, so the guy flashed me his sack.

For a split second I thought, "Oh, yeah. THAT'S what they look like. I forgot."

Then I quickly re-draped the leg and got back to work.

Weird

Had a strange dream the other night. Have no clue what it means, if anything.

In my dream I was pregnant again, this time it was my baby, and I knew it was a son.

I (somehow) took the fetus out, it was about the size of a peanut, and set it on the table to show my daughter.

"This is your brother," I said.

I pointed out his beating heart, and how he was (visibly) growing, then told her it was time to put him back.

Here's where it gets REALLY freaky. The fetus was now a dessert-plate sized crab.

(I know, I wouldn't want to be my subconscious, either.)

The crab was alive, bright red (which, while awake, I know means it's been boiled already), and waving its claws around. (Claws? Pincers? Who knows or cares?)

So I just shoved that sucker back where it belonged. And trust me, a fucking crab that size just does not fit "up there", okay?!

Thankfully the dream ended there, so I didn't have to give birth to some crab mutant.

And I don't want any jokes about pubic lice, you hear me?

Sweet...

To me, tips are icing.

If a client stiffs me, he will be roundly cursed behind his back.

If a client gives me ANYTHING it's greatly appreciated. Tips are my grocery money, my movie-ticket money, my hey!-let's-have-McDonald's-for-dinner money.

Today I was stiffed by one client, who was rude enough to be late AND didn't shower (Bastard), and his girlfriend, whom Angie had the "privilege" of massaging, didn't wash her hands after using the bathroom before the massage. But I digress...

Another client who received our "super-deluxe massage", a $200 service, gave me a folded twenty afterwards, while I was changing the linens. Hey, that's 10%, I'll take it! I stuffed it in my pocket and thought nothing more of it.

I stopped at Smith's on the way home to pick up stuff for dinner, and the total came to approx. $13.00. I took out the folded twenty to pay, unfolded it, and found ANOTHER twenty was folded up with it.

Woo-hoo!

Thanks, Ms. L. You really made my day. Not to mention making up for Mr. Cheap Asshole.

Why?

Why does this shit always happen to me?

We were in the dog park less than 5 seconds, my hounds were indulging themselves in their first sprint across the field, when Harley, the small (15 pound) pup intersected the path of a mentally and physically handicapped teen aged girl.

She was running full-out, being "chased" by some other dogs, looking over her shoulder instead of where she was going and tripped over Harley, ending up doing a face-plant in the grass.

Thankfully, Harley wasn't hurt...

Is that callous? Maybe, but I don't give a shit, frankly.

Yes, of course I'm glad that no lasting damage was done to the kid, but either way...wtf was she doing in the dog park, anyway?

She was there with her Grandma, they didn't have a dog...it's not a playground, folks!

If the girl likes dogs, great, bring her to the park and then PARK her ass on a bench, so she can watch. Don't let her run around the field with about twenty dogs who are going in all different directions if she doesn't have the capacities to pay attention and stay on her feet.

My dog was scared out of his tiny mind, jumped into my arms and tried to climb on top of my head. Luckily, he was only traumatised for about 18 seconds (his entire attention span). Then he was off and running again.

The girl was complaining to Grandma that she couldn't breathe (but was having no problems talking, go figure), and they packed up and left a few minutes later, with Grandma telling her she'd take her to the doctor. I attempted to apologize about three times (why? Because I'm overly socialized), but Grandma completely ignored me and wouldn't even look at me.

An hour later, a couple with their cute Boston terrier showed up at the park. I just wish they had found a babysitter for their obnoxious, four-year-old son...

Piece of...

Seen today at a local hospital, a truck from this company.

I'm sorry, Folks, but the first thing that came to MY mind was, naturally, the obvious...Piece of Shit!

It's just the way my filthy mind works.

Guess what?!

That's always an ominous question to field from a client, but especially when it's a male client and you just flipped him over onto his back...

Me(hesitantly): Yes? *Oh, no, what's he gonna say now...?*

Him(jubilantly): You know, I have two extra bones in my body!

Me: *Oh, my God! Please, PLEASE don't get weird on me now...!* Okay?

Him: Yeah, right underneath each of my outside ankle bones, do you see?

Me: Wow, you're right! How *freaky, weird, bizarre*...um, interesting.

And it's true. He had a small, superfluous bone with a knuckle-like protrusion located just inferior to the lateral malleolus of each foot. (just underneath the outside ankle-bone of each foot, to be non-anatomical!)

You just never know how these massages are going to go.

Quit doin' that!

Had ANOTHER side-by-side massage with B. today. Our clients were two young ladies receiving massages for the first time. Of course they kept their *expletive deleted* underwear on, even after it was explained to them how that would affect the massage.

Whatever, I thought.

But after I had flipped my lady over to work on the front of her body, I noticed that every time I happened to glance at her face, she was staring at me.

Staring.

Staring.

I was totally creeped out. I tried not to let it bother me, and failed miserably.

The worst was when I was working on her head and neck, because I was sitting about six inches away from her face.

I finally just closed my eyes, since I can literally do that part of the massage blind-folded.

Turns out B.'s client was doing the same to her!

They were really good tippers, so I'll try not to think too badly of them...even though they're WEIRD!!!

Thankful

I'm thankful that nobody can force me to go on this ride.

(the one on the extreme left...)



Maybe if someone offered me a hundred grand...

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

Lesson learned

Always turn the light on BEFORE breaking up a dogfight which is raging at 2AM on top of your sleeping bod.


And don't let pups bring rawhide chews into bed with them...

I know the picture quality sucks ass, but I couldn't get the camera to focus better.

The stuff that looks like peeling skin around the bite? A massage therapist's best friend: Liquid bandage

Yes, I'm aware I've got "big guns", they're my not-so-secret massage weapon, especially my elbows.

And yes, I'm glow-in-the dark pale (aka "fish-belly white").

Finally

Tomorrow I start a new phase in my life.

Sounds overly dramatic, but it's true!

Tomorrow I start my first week as a full-time massage therapist.

Since I came back from maternity leave, I've been working the front desk of the spa Tuesdays-Thursdays, while only doing overflow massage, assuming there was another front desk coordinator there to cover for me (which wasn't often).
Friday and Saturday were my only "true" massage days.

Now we have two new front desk personnel (whom I helped train to do things MY WAY the right way), and I'll be exclusively doing massage every day.

I'm so happy!

Plus my hours changed so I'll be getting home earlier (that's good), which necessitates getting UP earlier (not-so-good).

But I'm happiest because this means much, much more blog-fodder to feed you with!

And I know that just thrills you all to pieces, right?

Right?!

*sounds of stifled laughter drifting through the ether*

Oh, well.

On my way home today...

I saw two young, clean-cut men, walking down Flamingo Street, East-bound, wearing flip-flops and bright, white bathrobes.

Must've lost a bet!

Get the fire good and hot...

Had another side-by-side with B. today. Pretty much a routine deep-tissue massage, with B. massaging the marathon-running wife, while I massaged the very tall, muscular hubby.

As I was massaging Randy's hamstrings and glutes, I noticed B. practically jumping up and down on the other side of the room. She was massaging Jessica's calf, but was pointing at her (Jessica's) ass with her other hand, while trying not to laugh out loud. It was very dark in the room, but as I squinted carefully, I could just make out a lovely calligraphic tattoo on Jessica's right glute.

RANDALL'S

it proclaimed.

Wow.

Why not break out the branding iron, and do it right?

Then any time you hear bacon sizzling on the griddle, or smell pork ribs grilling on the barbecue, you'll be reminded how much you LUV your spouse. I mean, he OWNS your ass, right?

Surprisingly enough, I didn't see a tattoo on Randy's body proclaiming it Jessica's property, but then again, I didn't get to see EVERY body part, after all...

Murphy's Law Massage

A couple weeks ago I had my first side-by-side massage with B., the lead female therapist, and coincidentally the person who had the joy of training me in our protocols here, right before she left on maternity leave, which was right AFTER I came BACK from maternity leave (lots of pregnancies at the spa...DON'T ASK).

B. got to massage the girlfriend, while I had the guy.

Our massage gets off to a rollicking start when the attendants initially can't find a robe big enough for my client. So basically, B. already has the girlfriend on the table, but we're still waiting for the dude.

And the clock's ticking...

While R. and M. (the attendants) are running around looking for a super-sized robe, R. mentions that my client is bleeding from a cut or scrape on the nape of his neck. So now I scamper off to find some vinyl gloves, since I'm allergic to latex.

Finally Dude shows up, holding his robe closed with one hand. I hustle him into the treatment room, noticing that he's wearing a heavy necklace, which I offer to remove for him. Thanks to the fact that it's as dark as a well-digger's ass in there, I can't see what the hell I'm doing, and he reaches for the necklace, while letting go of the robe... and I'm SO outta there!

And the clock's ticking...

After Dude gets situated on the table, and B. and I re-enter the room, I start my patented Christina-massage©. When I get to his left arm, he jerks his head up and blurts:

Oh, I forgot my locker key, I think it's still in the locker! (which of course has his wallet, etc. in it...)

So I break off the massage, bolt to the entrance of the men's spa (I can't go in, natch) and (softly) holler for the attendant. R. listens to my whining, gets me the key, and back I race to the side-by-side room.

I quietly open the door and try to unobtrusively slide into the room, but am foiled by a small, lidded trash can which lurks innocently next to the door. I stomp squarely on the pedal and cause the lid to crash into the wall.

Wow, right about now I'm sure the clients are wondering when they agreed to appear on the latest episode of "America's Crappiest Spas, and how to Avoid Them", but I soldier on, 'cause that's what a professional does, right?

Okay, so I take a deep breath and finally get into my zone.

The massage is rolling right along, and I notice my client scrounged up a band-aid for his boo-boo. The boo-boo isn't a cut or scrape, either. Dude is a BIG guy, sporting a fade, and right at his hair-line at the nape of his neck, the three rolls of blubber flesh have caused chafing, which has lead to infected, ingrown hairs. Which he must have scratched or picked at, and which are now oozing blood and other, unsavory, unidentifiable liquids.

Thank the FSM I'm wearing gloves!

He is also very hairy, and has numerous other in-grown hairs scattered across his back...*

I continue with the massage, and as I'm working on Dude's quads, I happen to glance over at B...

I almost die trying to choke back laughter, 'cause she's massaging with one hand, while pulling out the front of her shirt with the other and blowing down the neckline!

Yes, it is HOT in that room. Good for the clients, not-so-good for the therapists.

Finally, we're almost done, I can see light at the end of the tunnel.

B.'s and my timing is very close, which isn't always the case with two very different therapists working together, and we're both massaging our clients' respective heads, necks, and shoulders. We're seated on these nifty rolling stools, which save wear and tear on our knees (NOT enough padding underneath the carpet in this joint, let me tell ya!)

I notice Dude's band-aid has come loose and is dangling on one side, probably a result of the massage oil, and I ask him if it's okay if I remove it. He assents, and I proceed to pay B. back for her earlier shirt-blowing episode...

I pull the band-aid off, and I'm wearing gloves, remember...

OF COURSE the fuckin' band-aid gets stuck to the glove! I'm whipping my right hand around like Matt G directing traffic at his town's Fall Festival, and the band-aid finally comes off, flying in a lovely arc to land thisclose to B.'s left foot.

Pay-back is truly a bitch, 'cause now it's B.'s turn to try to keep from busting a gut. Her shoulders are shaking, and it's a wonder her client doesn't notice anything.

Thankfully this concludes the massage from hell, and surprisingly enough, Dude and girlfriend are pleased.

We even get tips. Go figure.

What a way to impress your trainer, no?

---

*I know I've mentioned before that thick body-hair can be problematic when doing deep-tissue massage, but for the record let me state that I'm NOT grossed out by it, okay? And hair is INFINITELY preferable to stubble! This was a Swedish massage, in any case...

Massage Humor

You had to've been there...

Me (receiving a totally BRUTAL deep-tissue massage by K.): You know, after a day of doing massage my right shoulder is totally jacked-up right *here* (digging my thumb just into the space between shoulder and armpit).

K: The coracoid process?

Me: The coracoid process is more medial, isn't it?

K: No, the coracoid process, you know (crooking her pointer finger), it's the head of the pecker!

Me: WHAT?!

K: The bird's pecker!

Me: You mean the beak, right?

K: Yeah, the thing the bird pecks with. Damn, I can't get my tongue wrapped around my IQ today!

Much hilarity ensued. Also when I told her she'd make a great dominatrix (this while I was whimpering in pain as she was mauling my scapulae). She told me to bark like a dog...

Yes, Mistress!

Woof, woof.

Air Show

Most amusing and memorable sentence heard while viewing the Thunderbirds' performance at the 2007 Nellis AFB Air Show:

Silver (with awe): It's like marching band...WITH AIRPLANES!

Most goosebump-inspiring moment: Watching the Thunderbirds perform the "Missing Man" formation, while Taps was playing. Choked me up, too.

Pics to follow.

Thank you.

To all who've served and those who continue to serve, all my gratitude.

Since I've got nuthin'

Here's a random blog-thing I stole from Marko at the Munchkin Wrangler:

Your Inner European is Dutch!

Open minded and tolerant. You're up for just about anything.

Who's Your Inner European?

More spa stories to follow, just not today. I'm busy. Reading Academ's Fury by Jim Butcher.

Talk to you later!

Stay outta my spa!

Attention all you old biddies who are candidates of the Mrs. Old-Lady USA Pageant, or whatever-the-fuck it's called:

If you want to book appointments, please either call me, or come in one at a time, 'cause Ladies, honestly, all your clashing perfumes/colognes/haircare products/denture creams breath fresheners make me want to puke.

And they give me a headache.

And they make me sneeze.

Thank you, that is all.

Flashback

This song greeted me as I walked through the casino on my way to the spa this morning.



I immediately flashed back to the summer of 1985, to the outdoor disco at the international camp I was attending in the middle of the boonies in Hungary.

Dancing to this song with a stable boy who spoke neither German nor English (my only two languages), while I spoke not a word of Hungarian.

All I remember about him was how he asked me to meet him at the disco.

I had gone for a ride that morning, and after returning to the stables he had drawn a little picture of people dancing, with a question mark hovering over their heads.

Then he'd pointed to himself and me.

I'd nodded eagerly.

Some things are universal and require no speech (or thought, for that matter, especially for teenagers!)

I was fifteen, and the fact that the song defined "suckage" was irrelevant to me.

I was in Hungary! Without my mother! Dancing with an older man! Who was a stable boy!

Life was sweet.

Note to self...

crate dogs BEFORE attempting to massage daughter.

Last Night

Last night I had a dream. I dreamed that I was walking through a parking garage towards my car, when a tall, blond man approached me and asked me if I wanted his BMW.

I immediately assented, walked with him to his car and merrily drove off with him.

I don't know why I had to drive WITH him, if he was just planning on handing over the car keys, but it's my wacky dream, so bear with me.

The car was a very boxy two-seater convertible, certainly no BMW I'VE ever seen, and it was the lovely green color of every lawn-mower in existence.

So I'm riding along with this blond man, no sense of fear or danger at all, which is extremely stupid of my dream-self, if you ask me, and I start worrying in my dream about how I could afford the registration fees and added car insurance!

Sure, Chris! Forget about the fact that this guy might just possibly have an ulterior motive for driving off with you, and only worry about money.

It sucked the fun right out of the dream, and I woke up shortly thereafter.

Saturday

Saturday it was that time again.

The Las Vegas Invitational High School Marching Band Competition (whew, too many caps!).

Silver's HS band did not win or place, AGAIN. It's so frustrating for the kids, and the staff I'm sure, because they've all been working so damn hard, hours of rehearsals several evenings a week, and most Saturdays, too.

Then to see (according to the *motherf'n* judges) no improvement, it's just heartbreaking.

Silver was talking about quitting band, but it was just her frustration talking, because she really loves it.

Except the stress, that she could do without.

Also, as a parent who's financially strapped and who wants to go to college herself, it's important to encourage Silver to continue activities which can net scholarships.

Sad, but true.

This was her third year of competing, and also my third time attending, but for the first time, there were Army recruiters there! They must be desperate...lol!

I did my usual handshake, thank-you thing, and they were appreciative. I shudder to think of some of the parents' reactions to their presence.

Well, that's it for me today, as it has been craptastic (I was both late arriving to work *first time EVAR*, and late leaving. I'm sure I'll hear about it tomorrow, oh well...) and it's time for me to massage Silver, she really needs it and she has another competition tomorrow night (the Half-time Show Review at Sam Boyd Stadium).

Take care, people!

It's about time...

for a carwash, I know.

And maybe for me to call animal control, 'cause there are way too many feral cats running around here.*




*just kidding, I love kitties!

Christina's Word of Wisdom #4...? I think...?

If your young child is terrified of dogs, DON'T TAKE HIM TO THE DOG PARK!!!!

Randomness

Seen on a health form a (male) client filled out, in the space where one can write concerns or issues the therapist should be made aware of...:

I'm a wimp. Please be gentle with me...

---

Seen on a t-shirt a chubby teen-aged boy was wearing at a football game:

I go to school for the babes.

---

And I feel like I'm cursed, 'cause a guy sitting in the bleachers right below me kept leaning forward and putting his (highly UNattractive) ass-crack on display.

Blech.

I get enough ass at work.

Wait, that came out wrong...

Yum, yum

As I was waiting at a red light on Las Vegas Blvd. (aka "The Strip") this morning, three of these crossed right in front of me.

Yum, yum. Eye candy on my way to work.

Thank you, Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department!

Gentlemen, keep on pedaling, the people you serve appreciate it more than you know.

Get out your compass...

The following conversation occurred over the phone between myself and "Bulbman", the proprietor of a shop of the same name. Since it's sorta on my way to work, I volunteered to pick up a special UV bulb we need for a sanitizer in one of the aesthetics rooms.

(After finding out the opening hours, etc.)

Me: So, are you located on the East or West side of Cameron?

Bulbman: Well, neither, 'cause Cameron runs North to South.

Me:...

Me: I'm aware of that, but are you on the East or West SIDE OF THE STREET?

Bulbman: Well, that depends on which direction you're coming from.

Me: !!!

Me: Actually, East is East and West is West! I just want to know which side of the street you're on, say I'm coming from the South and going North on Cameron.

Bulbman: In that case, we're on the East side of Cameron.

Me: Thank you! *You fucking MORON!*

Don't worry, my manners held...that last bit in ** was what I was thinking.

ZOMG!!1!11!!

If you go here and scroll down, you'll see a picture of my dogs (and my legs and feet, whoop-de-doo) right before the costume contest at the walk-a-thon!

My pups are celebrities, whoo-hoo!

*sniff*

I so proud...got a little tear in my eye!

Too much fun...

On Saturday, my last client of the day was a gentleman who had booked a "stress relief" massage (think no evil!), a twenty-five minute massage of the shoulders, neck, and back. He looked like a mild-mannered "guy next door", reminiscent of Charles Grodin, late thirties, I'd say.

After I had retrieved him from the men's spa and escorted him to cross-gender room 7, he told me not to be surprised if he fell asleep on the table. I laughed and said it happened all the time.

I had gotten into my zone, massaging his neck, when out of the blue he says, "You're very good!" I think I jumped a little, he startled me so badly.

As I was massaging his back, I noticed some marks. It was (naturally) very dark in the room, so I had to lower my face thisclose to his back to get a good look......hmmmmm.

I think Mr. E. had way too much fun Friday night, because those were perfect fingernail welts all across his lower back, as if the lady had gotten a good grip around his waist and then let loose!

I sorta matched my fingers to the marks and traced them a half-inch above his skin, just to make sure of my suspicions....spot-on!

I have to say, I was kinda envious.

And he did fall asleep, too!

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...

Happy! Happy! Happy...

Blogiversary to MEEEEEEE!

One year ago today, I said, "To hell with it!", and started my own blog, despite school, work, attempts at surrogacy, etc.

When I started, I only had a few readers...

I STILL only have a few readers, but I infinitely prefer quality to quantity.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

I want to take this moment to thank that unnamed but not forgotten person who posted in summer of '06 at Baen's Bar about Tam's and Mauser*Girl's blogs, without whom I never would have gotten into this craziness!

Honestly, I didn't even know what a blog was, and had to look it up.

How did I spend my limited copious amounts of free time before I discovered the joys of blogging?

No clue.

Thanks, you guys!

WTF?

Why do I keep dreaming about elephants?

Last night I dreamed I was massaging a baby elephant.

I remember I was doing effleurage
and petrissage strokes, and the baby elephant's hide, contrary to reality, I'm sure, felt like the softest suede.

Even in my dream-state I realized something was wrong, namely that I was undoubtedly about to be squished into paste by a herd of pissed-off elephants, but I didn't stop!

Oh, well...I guess you just have to enjoy things while they last!

Will the hysteria never end?

Some parents need to get a grip. And some school districts need new officials AND new policies.

Case in point:

2nd-Grader Suspended for Drawing of Gun


Oct 20, 4:41 PM (ET)


DENNIS TOWNSHIP, N.J. (AP) - A second-grader's drawing of a stick figure shooting a gun earned him a one-day school suspension.

Kyle Walker, 7, was suspended last week for violating Dennis Township Primary School's zero-tolerance policy on guns, the boy's mother, Shirley McDevitt, told The Press of Atlantic City.

Kyle gave the picture to another child on the school bus, and that child's parents complained about it to school officials, McDevitt said. Her son told her the drawing was of a water gun, she said.

A photocopy of the picture provided by McDevitt showed two stick figures with one pointing a crude-looking gun at the other, the newspaper said. What appeared to be the word "me" was written above the shooter, with another name scribbled above the other figure.

School officials declined to comment Friday. A message left at the superintendent's office Saturday was not returned.

Kyle drew other pictures, including a skateboarder, King Tut, a ghost, a tree and a Cyclops, the newspaper reported.

---

I just found out last week that here in the Clark County School District, their "zero tolerance for violence" policy calls for anyone involved in a fight to be suspended, even if students are defending themselves.

Even if a 6'4'' football player were to be whaling on my 5'2'' daughter, if she merely tried to block a blow, or tried to push him away, she'd be suspended, too.

And it wouldn't matter whether a teacher witnessed the whole thing and wrote down in his/her report exactly what happened, either.

Good-bye, scholarships. Good-bye National Honor Society.

Fuck you, Clark County School District!

I told Silver to avoid conflict as much as possible, of course, but to defend herself to the best of her ability if necessary.

I refuse to tell my daughter she should cower and let herself be beaten to a pulp without lifting a finger in self defense.

It just sickens me.

Doggie Walk-A-Thon

This morning, a very cold and windy one, Silver, the pups, and I took part in the Heaven Can Wait Sanctuary's 7th Annual "Lose a Pound With Your Hound" Doggie Walk-a-thon.

Except for Harley being totally ROBBED in the Halloween costume contest, a fun time was had by all, and $40.00 worth of pledges were collected and donated by moi!

Not a huge amount, I know, but my co-workers donated what they could afford, and that's all that matters. (I wasn't about to go door-to-door, thankyouverymuch.)

Here's a semi-decent shot of Tucker and Harley, in costume. Harley, the pirate/buccaneer (which sounds better? You decide!)even walked around with a sword, and there's a compass attached to his collar!

Tucker, the bumble bee, didn't wear his antennae during the walk, but donned them for the contest.



It was amazing to see so many dogs in one place, of so many shapes and sizes! So well behaved, too. The only time I've seen more pooches is at Pet-a-palooza this past March.

The volunteers had water and both people and doggie snacks available along the route, it was all around a very well organized event.

Except for the costume contest judge's blindness, of course...*muttering*didn't even make Harley one of the finalists, total bullshit*/muttering*

Here's a better view, sorry about the leash, though:



What's really cool is that we discovered a whole new dog park! This park, named, I kid you not, "The Barkin' Basin", is a huge improvement over the dog park we usually go to. It's not as close by, but I'd rather travel an extra ten minutes or so and reap the benefits of this wonderful, 7.5 ACRE park!

It's dedicated to military and police working dogs and their trainers all over the world who gave their lives...see the dedication monument:





We took Harley and Tucker to this awesome park after the event, and they had energy enough to indulge in a few good chases.

They are so pooped out now, it's funny. Here is the result of a really, really good day:



Yes, I did (sorta) make the bed this morning, but they like to arrange the sheets just so before snoozing!

Ten seconds later...



Maybe I'll join them...

Have a great week!

Dangers of the Dog Park...

Always stay alert at the dog park.

You never know when a vicious pit bull puppy might sneak up on you and inflict heinous damage.

Like this:



Guess I'm not going to be wearing THOSE jeans tomorrow!

Tucker and Harley had fun, mercifully Capt. Kirk from yesterday was conspicuously absent.

It was almost impossible to get a good photo of my pups at the park, because they were practically never still.

But I tried, and you get to reap the rewards.

See how I treat you!

Here they are, sniffing something interesting;



Have a great Friday, People!

Looks to be a very slow day tomorrow at the spa, maybe they'll cut me loose early...

Prison Movie

Just got back from the dog park, where we spent the last half-hour watching our two puppies fend off a Yorkshire terrier with obvious homosexual rape fantasies.

If it wasn't trying to fellate our dogs, it was humping them, regardless of which body part it was mounting.

Capt. Kirk, as my daughter christened it (for its promiscuity) followed us all over the dog park, wherever we tried to flee.

On one hand I was really annoyed and irritated, because my dogs were just trying to play and have fun, and I wanted them to get worn out so they wouldn't be hyper at home, and Capt. Kirk was putting a major crimp in our plans.

On the other hand, I felt sorry for this dog who obviously had not been well socialized as a puppy, because it apparently had no clue at all how to play with other dogs.

The owners, instead of trying to correct its behavior, or redirect it somehow, spent the entire time alternately watching and taking pictures with their camera phone.

I'm so far from being a dog expert, it's not funny, but I know this sort of behavior went beyond the typical dominance/hierarchy activities dogs perform.

The saddest part of all this was at the very end of our visit to the park, when our pups started playing with a feisty Pomeranian, and Capt. Kirk just kept trying to chase Harley and Tucker down and mount them, while they were ignoring him completely to focus on their new playmate.

Hopefully Capt. Kirk will not be there tomorrow!

Maybe I should pack a water gun...

And advise my dogs not to drop the soap.

Nice Mom...?

Here's Silver with her new (purple) hair.



Our fabulous hairstylist, Mitchi, of Limelight Salon, did her usual incredible job.

There was a teenaged boy getting his hair cut at the next station, and when his mother saw the purple dye being applied to Silver's hair, she exclaimed to me, "You're such a nice mom to allow her to color her hair like that!"

While I was scrambling for a reply, since this came out of the blue, she said with her very next breath, "I would never let my kids do that!"

While I was telling her my stance on all this, namely that it's just hair, people, and everyone needs to relax, what I was really thinking was, if I'm the nice mom for doing this, and she'd never...doesn't that make her the "bitch-mom"?!

Just sayin'...

Favorite song at the moment.

This song amuses me endlessly. Love the guitar, find the lyrics juvenile and too funny!




Sorry about the poor quality, but every other version I found was censored.

Pussies.

---

BTW, what's up with Kid Rock? The man has NO ASS. VERY unattractive to me.

---

Notice how she's not "so hot", but rather "so hott"! Is that extra "rowr"-factor, or what?!

The perfect cup of coffee...

for someone who HATES coffee with a passion, but needs the caffeine boost in the morning and can't drink carbonated beverages.

Take one of these, add half of a packet of this, then eight of these, add hot coffee to fill up the minuscule remaining space in the cup, stir well, and voila!

Drinkable coffee.

Meanwhile, back at the spa...

I'm so glad I wasn't working the front desk yesterday!

This is secondhand, so bear with me.

Abdul, a young man who works as a coordinator (i.e. receptionist) at the front desk, described a phone call he took from a man who seemed bewildered and very disappointed that we offer no sex at our spa. He kept repeating, "No sex, no sex at all?"

Finally Abdul told him, politely, to go take a flying leap.

Shortly after that he had two gentleman walk in who wanted a line-up of the female massage therapists, to see what we had to offer.

Sorry, guys, this isn't Sheri's Ranch!

He, again politely, told them off.

I would have referred them to the concierge, it's their job to satisfy the guests'...desires.

Something amusing did occur when I was manning the desk on Thursday.

A couple had just finished their side-by-side massages (at $100 apiece) and were checking out.

It's the front desk people's job to ask the guests if they'd like to leave a gratuity, as it would be tip-hustling for the therapists or aesthetitians to ask themselves.

The couple had left their checks open for just this reason, so they could add gratuities at the end of the service and then close out the credit card check.

The husband looks over at his wife, to see the amount she's writing in...$5.00!

Then he beams at me while writing the same amount on his ticket, saying, "She always leaves the maximum tip. She's so generous!"

And he was serious!

It was hard to keep from laughing, and I was guiltily relieved that they weren't MY clients.

College Fair

Silver and I spent an hour at the Las Vegas College Fair this evening. I really don't know why we bothered, since she already knows where she wants to go to college...University of North Dakota at Grand Forks!
We did meet an admissions advisor for UND, so it wasn't a total waste of gas to head over there.

He was very nice and answered several questions.

We walked around when we were finished, and I noticed a lack of certain recruiters.

Army - check

Nevada National Guard - check

USMC - well, the booth was there but it was empty!

USAF - AWOL

USN - AWOL

I wonder why?

---

Had a set of twenty-something identical twins come into the spa today, just getting day passes. Here's the kicker...one was chubby while the other was slim.

You DON'T want to be known as the "fat twin"!

I have twin daughters who are almost 14, and they look quite different from each other right now, since they are progressing through puberty at different rates.

They've always detested being mistaken for one another,
not wearing the same outfit once they were able to make their preferences known, often sporting different hairstyles, etc.

But I don't think they'd take it that far!

---

I was leaving work the other day and got stuck in the parking garage behind a minivan with California plates.

They flagged down the bicycle-security guard, and after a brief conversation, he took off and they followed.

After they had made it to the exit, I rolled my window down and asked the security dude to confirm my suspicion...

Yup, I was right.

They had asked him to lead them to the exit of the parking garage!

They also told him they'd been driving around the garage for half-an-hour looking for the exit.

Granted, the layout of the garage is somewhat confusing, and it IS claustrophobia-inducing, but COME ON!!

Keep heading down, and then follow all the frickin' signs that say "EXIT".

Sheesh.

---

On Monday I headed to a medical spa for some skin treatments (I'm holding on to at least the appearance of semi-youth with tooth and nail!).

Among the display of business cards of related providers, I found this gem:

Intimate Makeover...Because Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

-Reconstructive Pelvic Surgery
-Labial Reduction
-Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation

Okay, you've had an accident or some kind of illness, and you need reconstructive surgery, fine.

But why the fuck would you want a doctor to cut up your labia...because you think they're too big?!

As all men (and women!) know, SIZE DOESN'T MATTER!

Right? Right?

And I don't even want to know what "Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation" is. It gives me the heebie-jeebies just to write it.

---

Because, even though this is my blog, I don't want to be utterly and completely narcissistic, I've decided against writing an entire post about what the man of my dreams should be like. I'll just pepper qualities I'm looking for throughout my posts, and you'll never know when...

Here's number one on my wish list...He has to love me.
Sounds like a no-brainer, right? Well, too many women seem to LOVE being in love with someone who doesn't love them back. I've been there and it sucks. So no more!

Homecoming

Friday night was the night of the Homecoming Game at my daughter Silver's high school.
It was also part of the festivities for the reunion of the Class of '97.

They should have picked a different game to go to, 'cause the home team got SPANKED.

Not that I'm averse to spanking under certain other circumstances, but this was just wrong!

We played one of the local parochial schools, and I don't know if it's the nuns swatting them with rulers, or what, but those kids kicked major ass.

They beat us 54 to 6.

Last year, thankfully not at Homecoming, they whupped us 76 to 12, so I say it's an improvement, since the gap is closing. My daughter calls "bullshit".

Here are some pictures of the band in their brand-new uniforms, unveiled for the first time at this game, just to cleanse your palate of the taste of defeat.

Silver playing some tunes:



They eschewed the plumes that normally adorn their hats, since it was extremely windy and they didn't want to lose them.

Here's Silver on a break, followed by some random band geeks (band geeks of the world, unite!):





You all have a great week (tomorrow is MY Monday, so I reserve the right to say that today!)

And yet more...

random blogthings...

You Are Not Destined to Rule the World

You are destined for something else... Like inventing a new type of cupcake. You just don't have the stomach for brutality. But watch out - because many people do!

Are You Destined For World Domination?

I guess Phlegm Fatale and I are not twins after all...or if we are, I'M the good twin and she's the EVIL one!

Another bit of 'net flotsam...

Am-I-Dumb.com - Intelligence Test

But still fun!

I got every question right, but maybe took too long.

I RULE!!!

I did it! I tied with AD...



NameThatDisease.com - Test your disease knowledge

...in a completely meaningless blogosphere test.

Oh, well.

Quick Spa Tales

Just a quickie...

Massaged a lady last week, a massage newbie, who had the most enormous breasts I've ever seen. Seriously, they were EACH the size of a large watermelon, only not as firm.

She was getting a shoulders, back, and neck massage, so needed to be face down on the table, with her face in the face rest.

Her face ended up hovering about a foot above the face rest.

I serendipitously found a breast bolster* on the shelf under the table, but that still wasn't enough, so I had to find her a pillow to rest her head on.

She was finally comfortable, and the rest of the session ran pretty smoothly, except for her having to turn her head from side to side so that I could massage her neck.

She's the lady from a previous post who tipped me twenty smackers for a sixty dollar service. Nice!

---

I received a wonderful compliment from a client last week. He was a young man attending UNLV, majoring in PR or advertising or some such.

His plan is to become a sports agent for the NBA.

We started talking about how Las Vegas needs a real professional sports team, and were commenting on the need for a new stadium, Sam Boyd Stadium being waaaaay out in the boonies.

I mentioned that it always takes forever for me to get there when my daughter has a high school marching band competition, and he lifted his entire torso off the table (he was face down) and blurted, "YOU have a daughter in high school?!"

Me: Uh, yeah...?

Him: No way! I though you were late twenties, thirty at the most!

Me: Well, it IS dark in here...

Him (laughing): No, no, even when you picked me up at the men's spa I thought that.

Me: Well, thank you very much, don't worry about leaving me a tip!

(He didn't, either! Man, I was only joking, sheesh!)

I wasn't wearing any make-up, either.

Maybe he needs glasses.

---

*breast bolster: imaging a boogie board made of squishy foam, tapering in thickness from one end to the other, and the thinner side has two big half-circles cut out, like a shark took a bite out of both sides. The boobs are supposed to go there. I guess.

Sign

Seen at the Kessler and Sons Music Store yesterday:

"Shoplifters will be cheerfully beaten to a bloody pulp"

I find this sign endlessly amusing.

ALSO amusing was the sight of two cowboys wandering the ancient parking garage at my work, holding up their remote entry doohickey, trying to locate their vehicle.

Too bad they couldn't just whistle for it, like for a horse!

Heigh-ho, Silver! Away!

D'oh!

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...

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!

WTF?!

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.

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.

Sigh.

---

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.

GO, READ, NOW!

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.

Literally!

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!

*ADDITION*

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

No?

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

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!

Yay!

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?





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!)



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"!



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



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



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.



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!



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!



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!



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

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

10

Hairspray.

10 times.

'Nuff said.

Hat Trick!

Yes!

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

Woo-hoo!

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.

"Mmmmmm"

"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.

Faugh!

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.



And here she is, working hard.




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



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

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...

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.

Squeeeee!

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.

D'oh!!!

---

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.

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.

Stuck.

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:



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".

Hmmmm.

---

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.



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:



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?!

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.

Slacker

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.

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.

Dork

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!

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...

Freaky!

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!