It's so hard to resist...

the siren song of "Turn Coat."



It's been sitting on my nightstand, taunting me, for weeks now. I promised myself I wouldn't touch it until I finished school, but it's getting harder and harder every day to keep myself from devouring it.

I must be strong.

Band Geeks Rule.

Silver signed up to be in the Pride of the North Marching Band at UND. I'm so stoked!
If you click on the link, you'll see that the football team (The Fighting Sioux) is now Division I. Woo-hoo! (Not that I really have any clue what that means...)
But it DOES mean that the band will accompany the team to an away game...in TEXAS!
In September at Texas Tech. Maybe some of my readers will be watching the game and see Silver perform with the band during half-time...she's the tiny, extremely pale kid playing clarinet!

In other college news, Silver will be taking seven classes her first semester:

English 125 - Technical and Business Writing
Math (to be determined by placement testing)
Honors 101 - Inquiry in the Humanities
Computer Science 160 - Computer Science I (she's majoring in Computer Science)
Space Studies 200 - Introduction to Space Studies (She wants to get her Masters in Space Studies)
Music 271 - University Band (this is Concert Band)
Music 272 - Marching/Athletic Band

Obviously she'll be very busy. But busy kids are less likely to get into trouble, right? Not that I really have to worry about her in that regard.

Oh, and she just got a letter informing her of the scholarship she's received. $1000 per year for four years. Yays! Of course, the letter states she must join at least one college organization...she's going to call them and see if band qualifies!

And she wants to get a job, too...hmmmm. Busy, busy.

I'm so proud of her (obviously)!

GO, SILVER!

Overheard on the Casino Floor...

"Wow! So you do the massage right out here in the open?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Excellent! That's exactly what I need, a nice, Christian massage, with my clothes on, in front of everyone. None of that riff-raff in my room!"

---

(Fifteen minutes earlier, in another part of the casino)

"So, d'you gals come up to the room to do the massage?"

"No, Sir. We do the massage right here."

"But I can't take my clothes off!"

"That's correct, Sir."

"Well, you know, that guy was killin' masseuses in his hotel room back East!"

*blink blink*

"And THAT'S exactly why we don't go up to hotel rooms!"

If ever anyone needed a punch to the face...

I massaged a young man this afternoon who'd never had a massage before. I knew he was enjoying it, he was very relaxed, and as I finished with a nice scalp and neck massage, he even started falling asleep.

Now, when I finish a massage, I never say anything like, "We're done," or "Time's up," or anything like that. I always thank my client, by name. The usual response I get is, "No, thank YOU, Christina!"

So what does this punk say?

"Is that it?"

IS. THAT. IT.

I'm sorry, did you just ask me if that was it?!

What, did he expect the "bow-chicka-bow-bow" soundtrack to start, and me to ask in my sultriest voice (which is pretty damn sultry, I'll have you know), "Why, Sir...did you want anything...else?"

Some people.

Hey, but thanks for the tip, Bud.

Seen on my drive to school...

an air conditioning service's van, with the license plate "AREUHOT".

"Why, yes! Yes, I am," she proclaimed without an ounce of modesty...;)

Hey, it made ME laugh!

Prom Dress...

...$14.99 plus tax.

Sometimes it's GREAT to have a non-fussy child.

What's even better is her insistence on my driving her to the prom location (she's going with a bunch of friends); she's positively gleeful at the prospect of driving up amongst all the shiny limos in our beat-up, five year old Hyundai.

What can I say? She likes making a statement. As a matter of fact, she really wanted to wear a tux to prom, to protest all of the fuss and excess, but I gently pointed out that they probably don't make tuxes small enough to fit her.

So she picked out a plain, black dress that happens to look fabulous on her...for $14.99 plus tax.

Yeah, I know I got lucky!

Starbucks...squeeee...ooh, look! Shiny!

I got to the NY-NY last night after a busy day at my "real" job. My last three massages I was literally struggling to stay awake, and falling asleep while GIVING a massage is (naturally) grounds for immediate dismissal. I was exhausted, and it was mainly my own damn fault for staying up late chatting with a friend the night before, so no violins, please!

Anyway, my supervisor Christine was still at the casino, our shifts overlap by an hour, and I told her that despite the mega-dose of vitamin C and the extra vitamin B-complex I took earlier in the day, I didn't think I'd make it through my whole shift.
She suggested Starbucks, and was happy to treat me. Now, don't think I've been living under a rock or anything, but I've never had a Starbucks coffee. I don't LIKE coffee, and I've been trying, with mixed results, to completely give up all caffeine for the past two years. But needs must, and all that. So off to Starbucks we went.

OMG. I had a plain coffee, a "tall" (which is really a small), and I even had the barista make it half coffee, half steamed milk, so it would be somewhat diluted. It didn't matter. Within minutes of drinking that, that, crack, I was bouncing off the walls. Babbling a mile a minute, and hiccuping like I had drunk alcohol. That's what I felt like, that I was a little buzzed. People were laughing at me! But I wasn't tired anymore. Oh, no, definitely not tired. I was so not tired that I was singing along to all the music playing in the casino, and I didn't walk so much as prance to the beat, with hips swishing/swaying all the way. I'm sure it must have been entertaining, but who cares? I wasn't dragging my ass anymore!

I had a very successful night, my most lucrative yet as a matter of fact. Should I risk the effects again and have Starbucks tonight as well? Hmmmmmm. Must ponder.

Please...

for all that's holy: If you have the sniffles and decide to get a massage (a course of action I DO NOT recommend), try to avoid COUGHING IN YOUR THERAPIST'S FACE!!!

Thank you.

Too honest for my own good?

I got out of work early today because I had nothing booked all afternoon, so why bother staying when I'm not getting paid, right? Plus it's another gorgeous day outside! :)

I received a text message yesterday from my supervisor at the part-time gig, letting me know that our checks were ready for pick-up. Squeeeee! My first check!
Anyhoo, I swung by the NY-NY on my way home this afternoon and picked up the check. Imagine my surprise when I saw that I had been overpaid, by $25 in fact.
I immediately called Christine, my supervisor, and told her about it. After a few calls to accounting and HER boss, she called me back to let me know NOT to cash the check, that I'd have to return it on Tuesday, and will receive the corrected check in about a week. *sigh* Not that I need the money, or anything. So, am I too honest for my own good? Nope. It's called doing the right thing, even when it hurts.

---

UPDATE:
Christine called me back and told me to go ahead and cash the check. I'm supposed to just add an extra $25 to my daily deposit after work on Tuesday. Hey, works for me!

Christina does NOT approve of...

-baggy underwear on men. And I'm not talking about boxers, either. They're called TIGHTY whities for a reason, you know what I mean?

-tramp stamps. ON MEN. Now, I've only seen this once, but I hope never to have to see it again! Maybe in Scotland it's okay for men to get tramp stamps, but I hope the trend doesn't spread to over here.

Pet Peeves

Here's just a few:

I HATE those automated, ridiculously complicated telephone menus, "For x, press 1, for y, press 2"...ad infinitum, ad nauseam. Why can't I talk to a real person, right away? Even worse when you try to cheat by immediately pressing "0", which sometimes works, but then hear the message, "I'm sorry, that is not a valid entry." Then you have to hear the full recording over again. ARGH.

I hate people who habitually do not use their turn signals. PISSES ME OFF. They're there, use them, People. Please! A kitten dies somewhere every time you change lanes or make a turn without signaling. Think of the kittens, if not my nerves!

Not having a do-over button. Wouldn't it be great to be able to turn back time (sorry for stealing, Cher) and do things over on occasion?

That's it for now, I'm sure I have many more pet peeves, how about you?

Strange requests

In no particular order:

-got invited to move back to Salt Lake City by two elderly ladies. They said I could bring my dogs, so I was tempted...

-was asked to kick a gambler in the back of the head. BY THE GAMBLER.

-received a marriage proposal from a married man. When I called him on it, he said, "That's okay, we'll move to Utah." I turned him down because I don't want to wear ugly dresses, and so I told him.

-was offered $1000 to break a client's neck during a massage. I declined.

Despite the madness, I had a very good night. I had energy, the vibe of the casino was completely different from last night, and I had fun. Now it's off to bed!

Overheard inside my car...

"You know, the person who somehow isolates the gene that can extend the dog's lifespan will rule the planet..."

Invisible

Tonight was NOT a good night at the NY-NY casino. I made five whole dollars. Not only that, but for the first time the smoke really affected me. Half-way through my shift my eyes were bloodshot, burning, and tearing. I think it was the large number of cigars being smoked that did it.

The worst thing was the sense of being invisible. Usually, even if folks are disinterested, they'll at least make eye contact and say, "No, thank you." Tonight, I (mostly) received no acknowledgment at all. It was very depressing, to say the least. By the end of my shift, fatigue and discouragement lent the scene a surreal quality. All the noise of the machines, the lights and drifting smoke combined to disorient me.
Patrons resembled automatons, mechanically punching buttons and pulling levers. I walked the aisles between the slots, cheerily chirping, "Massage - Massage?" To no avail. I truly was invisible.

It was heavenly to get home and be greeted so wildly and enthusiastically by my dogs. I finally felt solid and connected. Acknowledged. Visible.

Bass-ackwards...

So I was video chatting with a friend a few minutes ago, and my 17-year-old comes storming over to my room and DEMANDS I turn the volume down. What's wrong with this picture?! So I grudgingly went back to my earphones, even though they were irritating my ears.

Wow. Things sure have changed since I was a teenager!

Yes, I am a dork.

But I can't help it, I just LOVE this:



Apparently this was to promote a Belgian reality show where the winner gets the lead in a new stage production of "The Sound of Music."

LOVE. IT.

No, sorry.

The spawn and I were at Walmart last night, grocery shopping. I was wearing thrift-store jeans, an old T-shirt, 11 dollar shoes, and a 5 dollar watch. So why the fuck did some guy come up to me and ask me for change IN THE STORE, supposedly for gas?
Do I really look that prosperous? Was I wearing any kind of serious bling? No. I wasn't even wearing make-up. And I was so tired I looked like a permanent resident of Hagsville.
So I looked at him incredulously, told him, "Sorry, I'm a struggling single mom," (My standard reply in situations like this), and went on my merry way.
Sometimes I think I'm too polite. But it's safer that way.

Roberta is my new hero

There's this super-nice blackjack dealer named Roberta who works at the New York-New York casino. Last night, I was massaging a gentleman at her table when he requested me to massage his hands. No problem, I have lotion and everything. He was pretty tipsy already at this point, and as I was kneading away at his hand, he said (very loudly), "Hey, look everyone! I'M GETTING A HAND-JOB!!"

While I just rolled my eyes, Roberta stuck her fingers in her ears and said, "La-la-la-la-la-I-can't-hear-you!"

I laughed SO hard.

Overheard at the Pai Gow Poker Table...

after a ten-minute chair massage:

"I suppose they would frown upon it if I took you home with me...?"

Ya think, Einstein?!

Yes!

Waiting in our mailbox today was a letter from the University of North Dakota. It informed Silver that she's been accepted into their Honors Program! I bet all our neighbors heard us screaming, and that the downstairs neighbors thought their ceiling was going to collapse from all of our jumping up and down! I'm so proud, I could bust.

An anecdote I forgot to share...

I was doing a massage on a young man playing blackjack. As I was massaging around his shoulder blade, I noticed his levator scapulae was popping and mentioned it to him. He said, "Yeah, I've dislocated that shoulder a couple times while playing hockey."

Slightly alarmed now, I asked him, "So, any other health issues I should know about? You're not going to collapse when you get up after the massage, are you?!"

He replied, "Nah, I'll be fine. I don't haven't any sense of taste, though."

Me, jokingly, "What? From a head injury?"

Him, "Yeah. Snowboarding. Snowboarding's the worst for injuries."

Me, thinking *oh, please, please, please don't have a seizure or go into a coma while I'm massaging you!*

First Faux Pas...

Never, ever, under any circumstances offer to shake a dealer's hand! Big no-no, people. Never touch a dealer on the casino floor. I found that out the hard way, naturally. Me being me, and all...;)

But that's okay, because at least I learn from my mistakes.

I love my new job, by the way. Yes, it's late at night and I'm tired, but it's so much FUN! Even though I have to deal with rejection, frequently I might add, it's still fun to wander around the casino and massage people on the spot. You get to meet very interesting folks this way. Oh, one other thing I've learned over the past two days nights: Drunk people are very, very funny!

Let's see...I've been shown baby pictures and asked my opinion of them, been complimented on my braces (by a guy who told me not to make fun of him, after I laughed when he said, "I smoke weed, cut me some slack!" I couldn't help myself...)
Also, I've been asked for directions oh, fifty million times already. Sometimes I've been able to help, and if not, I've known whom to ask. One lady asked for directions to the Strip exit of the casino, because she wanted to go to the New York, New York...she looked at me like I was crazy when I told her she was already standing in the NY, NY...she thought she was at the MGM Grand! *lol*

I also met two tourists from Stuttgart and got to flex my German muscles a bit, yay! My shift started pretty slowly, so I did chat with them for a while. The roulette dealer (or is it croupier?) looked at me like I was a freak! That was really fun. Not so fun was the group of older gentlemen hanging out at the circle bar who looked me up and down when I asked them if they'd like a massage and then laughed and said, "Not from YOU!" Assholes. If anyone ever comes right out and says they want a prettier therapist, I'm gonna say, "Gee, I never realized the pretty therapists massaged clients with their FACES." Oh, well. It's just another thing I'll have to get used to.

We therapists are also encouraged to get to know the dealers, pit bosses, and bartenders who work during our shifts, because they can really help us get business. So it's perfectly okay for me to stop and chat with a black jack dealer if neither of us is busy. I've also learned it's a good idea to tip the cashier who cashes our chips in, it's just nice to acknowledge them in that way.

Massaging in a casino and massaging in a spa are like night and day. You can't even really compare the two, that's how different they are.

For example, it's perfectly okay for me to sing along with the music playing in the casino, as long as the client doesn't mind (heck, most of them are too drunk to even notice, anyway!), and ditto with chatting away during the massage. I do have to get used to the often tight quarters, it makes the massage that more challenging.

Well, that's it for me; it's almost 2:30 in the morning, and I'm beat.