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!

Sanitation Wars

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

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

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

It makes me want to vomit.

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

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

I had a meltdown.

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

Him: I can't throw bread away!

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

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

One minor skirmish won in the Sanitation Wars.

I shall not be defeated!

---

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

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

Payback is a bitch...literally!

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

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

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

Ahhhh, revenge is sweet!

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

---

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

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

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

I almost died!

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

I don't recommend it.

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

---

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

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

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

I'm not kidding.

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

After busting the composer's head in.

Highlights

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a great week, Folks.

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

So, this little old lady...

walks into the nail salon I use.
I'm waiting to get my eyebrows waxed (the caveman look is soooo out, you know!). I've already had my manicure and pedicure, and am just sitting next to one of the stations, the very one she sits down at.

Now, she has some massively long claws, and is apparently a frequent customer, since Patrick, the nail guy, didn't even ask what she wanted, just started going to town with the dremel.

Me being me, I just ask what comes to mind, namely wasn't it difficult to do things with such long fingernails.

Little Old Lady (with a British accent): Oh, no! I've had these all my life, and wouldn't know how to do anything without them.

Me, showing off my manicured, yet brutally short fingernails: I'm a massage therapist and can't have long fingernails. Can't hurt the clients, you know!

L.O.L.: Of course! But my husband certainly likes MY nails on his back!

Me, with VERY disturbing images now seared into my brain: Gulp!

Thankfully Amanda called me back for my wax at this point, since I had no clue what to say, except maybe "Too much information!"

Texas

I don't know, Folks, but I have the feeling Texas may be in my (probably distant) future!

First off, I've noticed that a majority of the bloggers whose blogs I peruse daily are from Texas, and that's a great recommendation.

*Secondly, anytime I have a client from Texas, they are invariably polite, friendly, and interesting to talk to (and they usually tip well, too).

*Thirdly, Texas has cowboys, 'nuff said.

What's not to like?!

Now if only I could find a place in Texas that has decent weather...

*are secondly and thirdly even words?!

Guilty secret

I've been following America's Got Talent...GASP!!

My favorite contestant, Terry Fator, won...and he's coming to Vegas!

Silver and I are SO there.

Memo

Weekends aren't long enough.

And WalMart really, really sucks ass.

Unusual

I've been really busy at the spa the last two days, and here's a run-down of some of the more unusual clients I've had.

-We have the lady who doesn't wash her hands after using the toilet...I'm glad I saw that after our session, otherwise I'd have been grossed out the whole time.

-Another lady I massaged was slender and small-boned, but had the HUGEST scapulae (shoulder blades). They looked like they belonged to a man twice her size.
They didn't stick out or anything. They were just really, really large.

-And I had the first client ever to warn me that receiving massage made her gassy. I told her to do what she had to do, that it was actually a sign of "release" (massage lingo alert), which was a good thing. So she proceeded to demonstrate, copiously. I survived!

And let me reiterate...if you're going to receive a full-body massage...GET NAKED!!!!!

I swear to God, the next time I have a client on the table and undrape him/her and find underwear, I'm gonna cry.

Honestly, people, I'm not interested in seeing your derrieres, only in working your glutes...can you tell the difference?

Unless you happen to be Vin Diesel, then all bets are off.

The worst is when it's a guy wearing boxer shorts. Then most of the thigh and the ass are off limits to me, which really makes it difficult to give my best massage.
I have to work through the sheet, can't do any gliding or connecting strokes, etc.

I had three massage newbies today, that's always my favorite! I'll be utterly immodest and say that they all loved my massage, and tipped very well, yay me!

It's because I KICK ASS!!

Ahem.

Sorry about that. I'm just slightly euphoric, since I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to massage professionally, considering I graduated last December. I got nationally certified less than two weeks later, but the state licensing process was so long that I was hugely pregnant by the time I received my license, so the spa couldn't utilize me for massage. Then I went on maternity leave and here we are, 8 months after graduation, and I'm finally doing what I went to school for. It made me wonder whether I was any good at all. So this kind of validation is sweeeeeeet!

Anyway, I'm pooped. I had 7 sessions today, then picked up Silver and we watched Hairspray again. I'm obsessed with that movie, it was my sixth time seeing it.
So it's time for me to say good night, folks!
Hope you're having a great weekend.

Check your map...

My colleague A. was looking forward to having a client first thing this morning, but when she arrived at the spa she found that the client had cancelled.
Turns out the client thought she had booked her massage and facial at the *Blank* Hotel and Casino in Biloxi, Mississippi!
Um, not quite, my dear.
We did get a good laugh out of it, though.

San Diego.

So, here's my promised travelogue of Silver's and my trip to San Diego last week.
Don't worry, I won't blather on too much!
The first day there, after we checked in to our hotel (in Little Italy), we headed over to Mission beach, 'cause Silver wanted to swim.
Since it had only been three weeks since my surgery, swimming was verboten for me. Bummer. But I got to lie in the sand and doze, which was heavenly.
Here's a pic of a bizarre sea creature that washed up on the sand, causing a huge number of beach goers to throng. I thought for a moment a dead body had washed up, or something! Silver took the picture, I was too comfy to stir from my spot!



On day two, we headed to the world famous San Diego Zoo. Why, I don't know, 'cause pretty much every zoo is the same, and I'm not a kid anymore to ooh and aah over every critter I see. But I digress. And digress some more, just to let you know NEVER to go to the zoo in Las Vegas, because it really, really sucks.
Here's a picture of my older offspring, Silver the Evil Chao (don't ask!), and the blue hair is history as of last Friday, since school starts soon, dontcha know, and the Clark County school district's dress code is very strict.




Here's a polar bear eating a carrot, of all things:



And here's finally a picture of me...NOT!




Day three entailed a trip to that most bloated of parks, Sea World.
More critters, yay.
I did really enjoy the sea lion and otter show, which spoofed the other shows in the park. I laughed my ass off!
Shamu Rocks disappointed a tad, 'cause you were so busy watching the frickin' show on the screen, you sometimes missed some of the killer whale's tricks, oh, I mean BEHAVIORS. Gotta use the PC lingo. ;)
The fireworks after the show, which they coordinated with the music playing, were really spectacular.
I guess I just got frustrated because I couldn't go on any of the rides. It was kinda boring to always wait for Silver. The river ride had an hour wait.
I had brought a library book with me, and if that isn't sad, I don't know what is.
Here's a picture of my fabulous pedicure, since I got REALLY bored waiting for Silver:



I love purple, obviously.

Believe it or not, that's the only picture I took at Sea World. Silver took a couple, but neither of us took any pictures during performances...we were too busy watching!

On our last day in San Diego we headed for the pier and spent four wonderful hours on the USS Midway. What a fantastic experience that was! I told Silver that going to the Midway alone would have been worth the trip to SD.
In case you have no clue what I'm talking about, the USS Midway is an aircraft carrier that is now a floating museum. I'd link to the Wikipedia article, but I'm retarded that way and Silver is already sleeping!

Here are some pics, instead:



Tight quarters aboard a naval vessel!



Silver in the brig...no, I wasn't tempted to leave her there, honest! ;)



Engine room:



After our Midway experience, we headed back to the hotel for a little rest, then later in the evening we walked to the Gaslamp District. That was a blast, the District really reminded me of a European city, with all the shops, clubs, and restaurants on the ground floor, with living spaces above. We ate a late dinner at a Thai place, outstanding food, and we ate outside in the sidewalk patio dining area.
That's one thing we both miss about San Diego...the weather!
Apparently, according to the weatherman anyway, it was very warm while we were there. It got all the way up to 83 degrees, GASP!

Wimps.

It was balmy for Silver and myself, after living in Vegas for so long!

Here's one pic I saved for last, the sign for a bar/club that made us think of Big Dick, of Big Dick's Place. In his honor:



So, that's that!

We had a really great time, and can't wait to get back there.

Hope you all had a great weekend!

First day...

Today was my first official day as a massage therapist. Where I actually got PAID to massage people!
It was awesome, truly.
One of my clients, a male, was of the sub-species chewbacca. In christina-speak, that means he was really, really hairy. Like, using up half my bottle of oil hairy.
Thankfully he had requested only a Swedish massage, not a deep tissue one, so I didn't have to use a lot of pressure with my strokes, and thus avoided pulling/ripping a lot of hair.
I hate it when I get that "crunchy" feeling while doing deep strokes over hairy skin!
Well, that was probably TMI, not to mention all you dirty-minded people putting your own special spin on things!
Mr. Chewbacca was also one of those dichotomous clients that I LOVE *sarcasm alert*.
The ones who check "no-no-no" on the required health form, but when I get them in the room and ask them face-to-face, recite a whole list of complaints/illnesses/surgeries/injuries and/or medications.
In this case, a previous surgery for cancer, followed by "going fishing too soon" (his words), which caused the internal stitches to rupture. Now, I don't know why he hasn't been back under the knife, 'cause he has a huge hernia, a grapefruit-sized bulge on the right side of his back, where, according to him, "it" pushed through his ribs. I didn't ask for details, merely avoided the damn thing!
He did pay me the highest compliment...he fell asleep and started snoring!
You know you're good when you put 'em to sleep!
Not many professions can claim that.

I started my work day on a humorous note. As I got off the elevator, I observed the following sign addressing the attendees of RollerCon 2007 (the roller derby convention I mentioned in my last post):

If you roller skate in the hotel...
1) You SUCK!!
2) You'll be 86'd from the hotel and lose your room - NO refund!
3) The organizers of RollerCon will HATE you and smear your name FOREVER!

The emphasis is original, not added by moi!
I got a real boost from this, and chuckled to myself off and on all day whenever I thought about it.

I know I promised more pics (from San Diego), but I'm beat and have to get up at 5:30 am...so I'll do it tomorrow! (yes, I know I'm channeling Scarlett...work with me here!)

One last thing...I really wish I had never mentioned this blog to my co-workers, 'cause they are a veritable
goldmine of blog-fodder! Since I want to keep my job, I'll have to pass...what a waste.

Sigh.

Darn...

I had to go back to work yesterday, after nine weeks off.
Sigh.
However, work provides blog fodder, so Yaaaaaaay!
Plus paychecks, too...double-Yaaaaaaaay!
Best of all, I'm finally going to be working as a massage therapist, not just as a front desk clerk at the spa.
As a matter of fact, I just scheduled my first official client. A Swedish massage on Friday at 11am.

I am content. Except I need a man. Per usual.

So I went in to work today and was greeted by hordes of extremely scary looking women, most with tats covering their exposed body parts (don't ask).
Not that they were all ugly, or anything, just very tough looking.
Then I saw the sign (I'm not making this up!):

"The *Blank* Hotel welcomes RollerCon 2007!"

It's the Roller Derby Convention!

I didn't know roller derbies even existed anymore, my bad.
_________________________________________________________

Now I shall regale you with all the stuff I've been doing over the past few weeks, WITH PICTURES!!!
You know you want it...

Lets go back in time two weeks, shall we?
My twins, Thing 1 and Thing 2 were visiting, and Silver was at her Dad's in Nebraska.
The twins and I headed over to Boulder City and Lake Mead, 'cause we love it there!
Lots of critters, as you will see.

Here's a pic of my offspring, Thing 1 (21 endless minutes older)
on the left and Thing 2 on the right.



Here's the marina at Lake Mead, if you look closely, the grayish, concrete-wall-looking thing in the back shows the previous water level, so you can see how the drought has been affecting Nevada. We'd probably need a decade of solid rain to fill the lake up again.



The marina is famous for its fat fish, who really enjoy all the popcorn and other treats people feed them...feeding frenzy!



After the marina, we moved on to Hemenway Park, a public park and playground remarkable only for its popularity as a summer grazing site of bighorn sheep, of course a protected species. No dogs allowed in this park!





As long as you don't get too close to them, they are remarkably imperturbable.
They only started moving quickly when a pretty severe thunderstorm moved in...we almost got caught in a mini-stampede while trying to get back to our car!

Enough for now, I don't want to frighten my six readers off (I'm being generous, I know!).
So I'll wait until tomorrow to post all the enticing photos from Silver's and my trip to San Diego...zoo, Sea World, USS Midway. I know you're panting in anticipation, but you'll just have to find some other way of entertaining yourselves until then! Sorry...

Traveling!

Hey, Folks!

Silver and I are headed to San Diego for a few days, so talk to you when I get back.

Probably with pictures!

Take care, everyone!

Oodles of Stuff...

Okay, lots of stuff to post, including pictures of a recent outing to Boulder City and Lake Mead, which I'll save for my NEXT post:

First off, I'm (easily) fitting into my pre-pregnancy clothes, due to the fact that I actually weigh five pounds LESS than I did when I got pregnant...yeee-haaaaah!

I got a very funny phone call at around 10:30 PM, some guy named Tony getting all hot'n'heavy on the phone, he thought I was a gal named Michelle who gave the phone number to him about an hour prior.
Michelle, if you're reading this, nice job on the fake number, just maybe next time you could use one that doesn't actually belong to a real person, m'kay?!

I believe I mentioned (in my first post, as a matter of fact) that I have a few issues with road rage. I learned my lesson a few days ago, and it's a really good thing the guy involved didn't have a gun. As it is, even though I was in the right (asshole was tail-gating me, even though I was driving 50 when the speed limit was 45), maybe I shouldn't have flipped him off while he was passing me.
We won't get into my language at the time, since he couldn't hear me anyway.
So the dude gets out of his car at the next light, after he manages to pass and get in front of me, yells "Fuck you, bitch!" repeatedly and spits at my car.
Hmmm, you'd think I had pissed him off, or something!
The whole thing did frighten my kids, who slid down as far in their seats as they could.
That was totally my fault, and I will endeavor in the future to leash my rage, maybe I'll make kissy faces at asshole drivers, instead.

Well, it's bed time for me now, I'll see if I can get those pics up tomorrow, very cool pictures of wild big horn sheep, who use a public park and playground every summer for grazing!

*Sniff...*

My milk dried up.

Good-bye, Big Boobies...*sob*...you'll be missed!

Saw "Hairspray" this evening with Thing 1 and Thing 2, it was uproarious and we had a total blast. Spent much of the movie laughing, even when it made me feel "uncomfortable", i.e. lots of racial humor.

Other than that, nothing new to report. I'm slowly recovering from the c-section, I've gone without any pain meds for a few days now, and I'm coping with the residual soreness from the surgery.

It feels good now to stretch, instead of making me cringe!
That's always positive!

We have a friend's baby shower to go to tomorrow afternoon, that should be fun.
Sunday morning we'll probably head to the dog park before it gets ridiculously hot, since Harley gets his final shot tomorrow morning, yay!

Have a great weekend everyone, and don't mourn my lost boobage...it wasn't meant to be!

I'm a wuss.

Well, I had the babies on July 9th, as planned.

But I ended up needing a c-section, after going through labor, pushing like a fiend, etc.

The babies are both fine, I got to see them, and Silver, who was with me for the whole ride, holding my hand during the surgery, even got to hold both babies after they were cleaned up a little.

They are now residing with their parents, who are ecstatic at finally having a family, and I'm very happy for them!

I knew, intellectually, that having a c-section, and especially the recovery from one, was going to be painful, but the reality...!

Yesterday was the first day since the surgery that I felt semi-normal, and I really detest taking the prescription pain pills, they made me feel loopy and knocked me on my ass, so yesterday I switched to otc ibuprofen.

I had to go to the bank on Friday, and the cute, perky, twenty-something teller asked me "When are you due?". I wanted to kill her, and no jury of my peers (meaning middle-aged women with children) would convict me!

I calmly explained that I had delivered twins by c-section five days prior, and she responded by saying that I was still walking with a bit of a wobble...DEATH!!!

Ahem.

Yes, my abdomen is still swollen and distended, so I guess I look about 5-months along, or so, and yes, I AM walking funny because I'm in fucking pain, but still!

All I'm saying is, unless the wench is wearing a t-shirt that screams "Baby on Board", or she brings up the subject herself, DON'T assume a woman is pregnant.

Enough on that subject.

Yesterday my milk came in.
TMI?
Too fucking bad!
Since I'm obviously not nursing any babies, I want it to dry up ASAP. This requires me to wear sports bras 24/7, except when in the shower. Back in the stone age, the last time I gave birth, you had the option of getting a shot to dry up your milk if you decided not to nurse. When I asked my OB, who's been in practice for about 10 years, he didn't know what I was talking about. I talked to a veteran nurse in Labor and Delivery, and she told me the medication I was talking about had had serious side effects, like seizures and damage to the pituitary gland...okay, I guess I can live without it!
All I can say is...holy shit, I'm STACKED!
Instant boob job, I wish I could keep it without the pain and threat of milk leakage!
And no, there will be no pictures, thankyouverymuch!

I picked up my thirteen-year-old twin daughters, known here as Thing 1 and Thing 2, from the airport yesterday. Silver has been in Omaha since Thursday, the day after I was released from the hospital (that's another story! I didn't get discharged until after 10 PM and was PISSED!).
I'm so happy to have them here with me, I haven't seen them since Christmas.
They have grown so much, and I know that Thing 1 is probably already as tall as Silver (5'2''). Probably by this Christmas, she'll be taller than her big sister!

Unfortunately, since I'm still recovering, we won't be able to be as active as I hoped. No roller coasters, swimming, etc. I've been encouraged to walk, and that suits me fine, but my daughters are inexhaustible, so I just hope they won't be disappointed.
On the other hand, they haven't seen any of the summer movies yet, so I've promised them a movie marathon, plus there are still a few movies out now, or coming out in the next few weeks, that I'd like to see with them, too.
So I guess we'll be staying busy!

Take care of yourselves and have a great Sunday!

Phlegmmy, thanks so much for your concern, you were the motivation for me to finally sit my ass down and write this post!

P.S. I had a dream last night that I was asked to play on a polo team.
The thing is, the game was played on elephants, not horses, and the ball was the size of a volleyball.
I woke up with one burning question: How the hell are you supposed to hit the ball from the back of an elephant?!

Puppies!

This is Tucker, who's almost 5 months old. He's the more dignified dog, sometimes I call him the "Elder Statesman", but really, that's only compared to Harley, aka "Cocksucker", whom I also call the Whirling Dervish, among other, not-so-fond nicknames!
And here is the rascal (he's 4 months old):



Here he is, pooped out after making much mischief:



And here's Tucker again, guarding his booda-bone, which is about to be stolen by Harley:



Anyway, I'm slowly getting the hang of the camera, so be prepared for more pictures!

Tomorrow morning I'm headed to the hospital, where I will finally give birth.
I can't wait for this to be over with, I can barely walk anymore, I just slowly waddle everywhere.
Wish me luck!
See you on the other side...

Sorry to scare you!

Here's my belly...but NOT my babies!
Tomorrow I'll put up some pics of my puppies.
And yes, I'm aware that my stretch marks look like something is clawing its way out...

Okay, any time now, please...

Sorry, just talking to the babies.
That's right, I still haven't popped them out, and I'm TIRED.
I'm now 36 weeks and 4 days pregnant, which is considered past full-term for twins.
My doc, as I've mentioned previously, wants to induce me next Monday, I'd rather have them NOW, right now please.
Oh, well.
They're not listening.
Anyway, Silver, my sixteen-year-old daughter, wants to be present at the delivery.
The intended parents of the twins (isn't that a nice, PC term?) have no objections, since they don't want to be at the actual delivery.
I guess they want to be like the Fifties dad, pacing the waiting room, puffing on cigarettes, outside of screaming range. Just minus the smoking.
That's fine, because if they're not there, I can cuss all I want, yay!
Trust me, it won't be anything Silver hasn't heard from me, especially while driving.
I just hope Silver doesn't puke or pass out! Well, she can always move to the head of the bed if anything too gross is happening! If they have to do a c-section (please, God, no!), I'll ask them to boot her out. That is something she definitely doesn't need to see, that's for sure.

Oh, and happy Independence Day, everyone!
Did nothing today. Just napped, ate, and watched Silver play "Beyond Good and Evil" on the GameCube, oh, and watched some Mythbusters, too!
Which is a sad state of affairs for one of my two favorite holidays, dammit!
Yup, the 4th of July and Halloween are my favorite holidays, EVAH!
Wow, how banal and boring can I be?
Don't answer that.

Two (types of) people worth hating:
1) People backing out of parking spaces WITHOUT LOOKING BEHIND THEM!!!
Silver and I almost got creamed by a little old lady in a huge SUV at my last doctor's appointment. I literally smacked my hand on the rear windshield and yelled before she got a clue and stopped.
Scary.

2)People who drive 50 mph on the highway, when the speed limit is 65 and clearly posted. I want to kill them. Repeatedly.

So, that's the status quo here at Lucrative Pain Headquarters.
Circling in a holding pattern, waiting for landing clearance so my passengers can finally disembark.
While going outside as little as possible, because it's a fucking oven out there.
Take care of yourselves, maybe I'll have good news on the baby front next time!

Die Hard 4...

kicks total ass!!!
Really enjoyed it, even though (or maybe because) it was completely over the top.
Loved all the snarky humor, thought the bad guy was a little lame, but, oh, well, can't have everything.

On Saturday I will be 36 weeks pregnant, which is considered full-term for twins.
However, my doc wants me to try to make it to 37 weeks and two days, because Monday the 9th of July is convenient for him. Whatever! The babies will come when they're ready, and I seriously doubt I can make it all the way to the 9th!

Speaking of twins, had to think of a bit Ray Romano did after he and his wife had identical twin boys, about how it was imperative that twins be at least decent-looking, because they're TWINS!
I remembered this because at Walmart the other day, my daughter and I saw a couple with identical twin boys, about a year-and-a-half old, who were cross-eyed. (Let me clarify, the twins were cross-eyed, not the parents!)

Silver of course said I was mean to even notice, but come on! You already do a double-take when you see twins, identical ones anyway, and for them to have a very visible physical "defect" like that, it's got to be blog fodder!

Hey, it's not like I pointed and laughed!

And I know that the problem can be fixed, so shut up already about what an evil bitch I am, 'kay?

Anything else going on? Let me think. Nope, I think I'm done for now.

Cool movie...

Saw Ocean's Thirteen a few hours ago. Excellent, entertaining movie.

George Clooney + Tuxedo = DROOOOOOOL!!!!

Ahem, at least that was the consensus between my daughter and I.

I have an older brother who has a resemblance to Brad Pitt, so I've never been able to get excited about him. Too creepily incestuous, if you know what I mean!

Anyway, that's what I did this Saturday evening, Bistro Buffet at the Palms, followed by Ocean's Thirteen at Brenden Theaters.

This was of course AFTER I took a three hour nap Saturday afternoon. I gotta have my naps now!

Have a great Sunday, everyone! And for those of you who qualify: Happy Father's Day, too!

Happy Birthday, Silver!

Yes, today is Silverevilchao's (Silver for short) birthday.
When I wished her Happy Birthday this morning, she said, "I can't believe I'm 16...it makes me feel old!"
WTF???!!
How do you think it makes ME feel, Kiddo??!!
Ancient!
Hope you've had fun today!
Love you,
Mom

Sailing away...

that's how I feel right now.

I ended up spending a little over three hours at the labor and delivery department on Monday, due to having some contractions.
Turns out I was dehydrated.
Fuck that!
Don't they know how much water I've been drinking?!
Apparently not, and it's obviously not enough.
So now I'm schlepping around my half-gallon water jug, which I refill periodically throughout the day.

In between bathroom runs.

Since I'm only 33 weeks (and change) pregnant, it's definitely way too soon to be giving birth, I have about 3 to 4 weeks to go.
I had an appointment with the perinatal specialist today (gestational diabetes, but I really don't want to talk about that, needles, ugh!), and he pointed out to me that I'm basically carrying the weight of a full-term baby already, since twin A is 4 pounds, 1 ounce, and twin B is 4 pounds, 6 ounces.
"That's why you're so miserable", he said!
Thanks for pointing that out to me, Doc, like my gigantic, monstrous belly isn't a clue?!

In other news today:

Why the hell can't old farts keep their shirts on when they take the trash out?
Is it some kind of AARP rule I don't know about?
Seriously, while my daughter and I were cruising toward home in the apartment complex, we observed TWO old men, 30 seconds and about 500 feet apart, taking their respective trash bags to their respective dumpsters sans shirts.

Why couldn't it have been some hunky guys in their twenties, huh, huh???

Is it so difficult to provide some eye-candy for the (sexually) deprived?

Life's not fair.

Well, at least they kept their pants on.

(H/T to Big Dick, whose link you'll find to the right, for spoiling my appetite)
(Blogger is being a BITCH and won't let me put the link in this post!!!)

Affectionate Nickname?

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Ahhhhhh.

So, I'm finally on maternity leave.

Yippeeeee!

Ahem.

One of the bellmen who goes by "Friday" (I don't know why, I can never get a straight answer out of him) was doing bench presses the other day on his break.
I sauntered over to the fitness area and posed in profile to the mirrored wall.
Pulling my uniform polo shirt tight over my gigantic, preggo belly, I said, "Man, I've really got to do something about this gut, more crunches or something. And I really should lay off the beer!"
Friday started laughing (probably not a good idea while bench pressing!), and said that that was a "keg" belly, not a beer belly.
I have to agree!

Well, the crunches will have to wait a few more weeks. The doc wants me to go at least to 37 weeks gestation (I'm expecting twins, so 36 weeks is full-term), and then (if I don't go into labor on my own) he'll induce me on July 9th.

When it's convenient for him.

Whatever works, I guess. I just want to avoid a c-section at all costs, because I really don't want to be cut open. Ugh!

And just FYI, for the three people who read this blog, the babies I'm expecting are not mine.

I'm a surrogate mother.

That's all I'm saying, because of confidentiality, etc, etc.

I wanted to be a surrogate for quite some time, and I finally realized I'd better hop to it before I got too old!

It's been quite the adventure so far, including an initial miscarriage last summer, followed by the repeat embryo transfer in November, and then finding out that it was twins!

Well, it's not like I haven't had twins before, my own are 13 now.
But there's a big difference between carrying twins at 23, and carrying twins at 37!
Everything ACHES.
Hence the maternity leave! Got to have some time to put my feet up, especially if I'm supposed to avoid early labor.

I've also found that the hormones make me want to blurt out all the incredibly rude (yet accurate) thoughts running through my head.

Like how I wanted to tell the woman in the waiting room at my OB yesterday to turn her fucking cell phone off NOW, or go out into the hallway.
She wasn't even a patient, just accompanying a nervous friend, and she talked on her phone, in a carrying tone of voice, for over an hour.
Just when I'd think the torture would be over, because the call was, she'd dial a new number and the agony would begin again.

Maybe she wanted the attention, dropping lines like "Ritz-Carlton", and "$800,000"

Whoop-de-do.

She reminded me of the hotel guests who come into the spa and want to charge something to their room, and say "I'm in Penthouse 36."

Who gives a flying fuck, anyway. I need an actual ROOM NUMBER to charge anything, and even the penthouses have actual numbers, like penthouse 36 on the 19th floor will be 1936, DUH!
It's not like we're the Bellagio, or Caesars!
We're the cheapest joint on the strip, for God's sake.

But I digress, sorry.

Had some fun in the last week at work, there was an Impersonators' Convention going on, and I got to see quite a few ersatz-celebrities, including Arnie, who wanted my colleague 4chun Cookie to elope to Kahliforrrnia with him, and asked if her name was Maria, Richard Gere, George Burns (sans cigar, to my disappointment), and Barney Fife, in uniform!
My other colleague A. saw an extremely tall Paris Hilton, and a remarkably un-rotted Anna Nicole Smith, plus B.B. King.
All in all, there were quite a lot of double-takes in the casino!

Well, I guess I'll check what's on the boob-tube now, probably crap, but I might get lucky!

Carry on and continue enjoying your weekend!

Well, it had to happen sometime.

I finally broke down and got cable.
TV, that is.
So now, for the first time in over three years, I've been watching the tube.
Discovered Mythbusters...LOVE that show.
Watched a whole bunch of stuff on Star Trek on the History Channel.
Other than that, it seems that most programming available (for cheap, just got the expanded basic service) is dreck.
So why did I do it, you ask?
Simple.
By the end of next week I'll be on nine weeks of maternity leave, with nothing but many, many doctor's appointments to look forward to.
I can only read so many books and surf the 'net for so many hours, so I decided it was time to join the majority of American society.
Plus, I still can't take my puppies outside, so I'll have to turn them into couch potatoes right alongside me! They're Italian Greyhounds, they were BRED to be couch potatoes! Well, living warming pans/hot water bottles, anyway.
So, if any of you folks have any TV suggestions for me, let me have them, please!
As long as it's not reality tv, 'cause that ain't happening.

Please, don't.

Here's a request for all you hard-core, exercise lovin' people, who insist on working out at six in the morning even while on vacation:
Please refrain from making sex noises while working out.
Grunting is annoying but acceptable, same with harsh breathing.
But the moaning and groaning has to STOP, especially if you work out for more than an hour.
Even if you ARE incredibly hot.
Thank you, I appreciate it.

And here's a tip: If you're making a lot of noise with the weights, you are doing it wrong.
If you rock back (bending your spine in the process) while doing what I think are SUPPOSED to be biceps curls, you are doing it wrong. Not to mention that obviously you need to use lighter weights, too.
Anyway, that's just my two cents.

Steve/Stephanie, if you are out there, thanks for making a fool out of me with what was obviously (in hindsight) a prank call, but you have to admit I was a complete professional, and extremely politically correct, even while you went on and on (and on) about how proud your Jewish mother was of having a daughter now instead of a son, and how EXPENSIVE it is to be a woman, and what else you needed waxed besides your legs.

If I'm wrong and you are legit, just to let you know, we'll have a few problems with the spa, as there are two gender specific ones. So it really matters if you are pre-op or post-op. Basically, if you still have a pecker, it's off to the men's spa you go, we don't care how you are dressed, coiffed, or made-up.
Sorry.
So no partying in the women's Jacuzzi for you, Mom and her eight friends who are supposedly coming to Las Vegas for your coming-out-of-the-closet party.

I really am too nice for my own good, sometimes.

Silver made a funny...

I pampered myself today and got a manicure and pedicure at the Nail Shack.
Silver spent the time playing Pokemon Pearl on her Nintendo DS.
When I was done, I went over to where she was sitting to get my wallet, when she commented, "So that's a french manicure, hmm? Fascinating..."
(Mr. Spock is her hero, though she always said that even before we began watching Star Trek!)
Then she added, "I know why they call it a "french manicure"."
I asked her why, and her response: "Because there are "white flags" everywhere!"
I truly got a giggle at that one, and so did the owner of the Nail Shack, when I told him.
He said he'd have to remember that one.

Variations on Nothing

First off, I'm mean.
We were stuck at a red light behind a Jeep with a "Meat is Murder" bumper sticker and a license plate holder that said "Animal Liberation".
So I pulled out my daughters (so-far) uneaten Double Quarter Pounder with Cheese, held it up so the driver ahead of us could see it (if he'd been looking), and mimed going "MMMMMMMM!!!" while rubbing my tummy.
All the while, Silver was laughing hysterically while at the same time begging me to stop.
I just don't know what came over me.

And here's a tip to the fella who sat one seat away from me at our kids' end-of-year band concert:
Chewing gum (or sucking mints, or whatever) does nothing to mask the horrific, stale alchohol miasma surrounding you. It's coming from your PORES.
Deeeesgusting!
Considering just how preggers I am, my nausea was understandable.

I've been saying this for a while, but I'll repeat it: I really need to buy a frickin' digital camera, especially now that I have adorable puppies!!!

Two Italian Greyhound puppies, Tucker and Harley by name, 13 and 10 weeks old, respectively.
The only problem I have right now is the fact that they can't go outside until they've had all their shots. Which sucks, since the breeder in Nebraska didn't start the Giardia vaccine (maybe not needed there?), so I had to start those from scratch.
They get plenty of exercise racing around the apartment, playing tag, chase, and keep-away, but I have to admit my nerves do get a little frazzled! I'm looking forward to taking them on walks, I could certainly use the exercise!

Finally, I had an intensely erotic dream about a fellow blogger, who shall remain nameless, so don't even ask.
As a matter of fact, our activities became so...vigorous that we fell out of my bed, in a good way.

Just another aspect of being pregnant. Constant horniness.

Have a great weekend, everyone! I unfortunately had to go into work for a few hours today, but let's hear it for overtime...yaaaaay!

Oh, and considering that due to somebody in the payroll department, who's probably looking for a new job as I type this, accidentally fucking up, 1000 hotel employees, including my humble self, did not get paid yesterday, the fact that I was willing to come in today and work on my day off should earn me plenty of brownie points, maybe even a gold star!!!

Did that last sentence make sense? I don't know, I've read it about five times and I'm tired, so nighty-night!

No, thanks.

Today, in addition to Cinco de Mayo, also happens to be FREE COMIC BOOK DAY!!!!
Geeks of the world, rejoice!

However, as I was leaving the always excellent Maximum Comics, I was accosted by a woman who really, really, wanted me to buy some of the supposed designer perfume she was selling out of the trunk of her car.

She was very persistent and annoying, and when I finally convinced her that, yes, I was serious about NOT buying perfume from her, moved her focus to my fifteen-year-old daughter and started the same spiel.
Silver, being in some ways smarter than her mother, simply ignored the wench and got in the car.

Why, oh why, is it so hard for me to be rude?

Sometimes it would make life so much easier.

I actually do have plenty of backbone where telemarketers are concerned. Compared to my early twenties, where I was polite and actually would have a conversation with them, I now simply say that I'm on the do-not-call list and tell them never to call again. Then I hang up.

Maybe I need to do some daily affirmation, a la Stuart Smalley.

Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!

Just a small hit...

The most amusing sight in a casino:

Pregnant cocktail waitresses!

The saddest experience of this past weekend?

The ticket guy at the monorail station needing to use a calculator to figure out that he owed me $16.00 change when I gave him a twenty for $4.00 worth of tickets.

Blinded by the light...

Two random, unconnected events.

First, how the hell did mushrooms grow out of my daughter's bathroom cupboard?!
WTF? I'm not talking mold or mildew here, and let me make it very clear that our apartment is SPOTLESS, after all, that's what I pay my cleaning people for.
Mushrooms, like you'd put on a pizza.
I called the maintenance office, and after I explained what was going on, I got about 10 seconds of total silence. Then followed disbelief, then finally determination to check it out themselves. Good! Because I really want to know how this happened.

Second, we had a guest in the spa today, an attractive, tanned young lady, whose teeth were so fucking white, you could spot them a mile away, in the dark, in a rain storm. I felt like I needed to find my shades.
Geez, I like my smile to be nice and all, but something that shrieks "FAKE!!!" every time you open your mouth is not for me!

In further news, we were visited by Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs a while back.
Sans Snow White, and there were actually only five, but still, leave me my illusions, m'kay?
ANYway, they were a group of obviously related, middle-aged men from the Ukraine, none of them over 5'4", all of them balding, with huge noses and ears that would not be out of place on a pitcher. I couldn't see their feet from my position behind the counter, but I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they had been shoe-less and covered with hair (oh wait, wrong movie!).
The funniest thing was what happened on their tour of the spa. They asked R., the attendant, if they could use the scale to weigh themselves. After being assured that this was no problem, they promptly stripped off all their clothing and proceeded to the scale. Thankfully, this was in the MEN'S spa, and not in the co-ed area which is open to the public. Since their English wasn't of the best, and R.'s Ukrainian nonexistent, R. just had to let them do their thing.

Observed in the Employee Dining Room (henceforth known as "EDR"), a lady in a most "intriguing" outfit.
I mean, I have no clue where she could have found it, and I didn't know such clothes existed.

Picture a lady of perhaps middle years, desperately hanging on to youth (or the appearance thereof) by her fingernails, not exactly overweight but certainly padded, stuffed, and I mean STUFFED into an ankle length skirt made of gray sweat-shirt material, with a white "racing stripe" on either side and a slit up the back. The second part to this ensemble is a gray hoodie, yes a HOODIE. The coup de grace, however, are the sparkly, silver high-heeled sandals. Add to this hair teased to HERE, and you get the complete picture.
I'm just glad she didn't notice my focused stare, or she might have got the wrong idea.

More crap to follow, as soon as I think of something! I really need to get a digital camera...

Head Scratchin'

This morning I had an interesting encounter at the elevator.
I was trying to exit, while a very large man pushed his way on.
Whatever, I thought.
I said, "Hi!", because I tend to greet everyone I meet (I'm just like that, sue me!).
I was around the corner and the elevator doors were closing when my caffeine-less, muddled brain finally processed what this guy had said to me in return.

"Fuck you."

Wha'?

Well, good morning to you, too, Sunshine!

I couldn't even get angry, I was laughing too hard. I mean, who the hell just says, "Fuck you." to a total stranger?

Well, I hope whatever bug crawled up his ass decided to depart, and he had a better day.

Later on in the morning, this conversation occurred between my humble self and an innuendo-spouting guest, you know, the kinda guy who always has to find some sort of sexual connotation to everything.

Me: What size shoe do you wear? (We provide the guests with sandals for the spa, and I just KNEW what was coming!)

Guest: How about a size 15, 'cause you KNOW what they say about men with big feet! (expectant look on his face)

Me: (blandly)They need big shoes?

Guest: (hesitates, with a finger pointing at me) How about a size 9?

Me: No problem.

Me - one point
Horny guest - ZERO!!!!

Victory is mine!

Random

Limousines don't automatically have the right-of-way.

There, now that I've got that out of my system, let me ask you something:
Do you find it more difficult to be rude to people or polite? Which requires more effort for you?
'Cause I've got to say, I find it pretty much impossible to be rude!

Unlike the guest we had in today.

Phrases heard: "I'm a college educated business professional!"
"I feel I'm being degraded!"
"No, you're not trying to "make sure we're on the same page", you are implying I'm too stupid to understand a spa menu!"

And so on, and so forth. Her tone was so bad, her embarrassed husband fled the reception area and apparently hid around the corner until she was finished.
Everything we said to her, she viewed as an attack.
How can you go through life that way, with such a huge chip on your shoulder, thinking everyone is out to get you?
I wasn't so much offended by her, rather almost bemused. Like observing some strange species of animal on TV.
What set her off? She was requesting a massage which overlapped a massage she was already scheduled to receive in a package she booked. We were just trying to avoid her wasting her money, etc. She didn't quite see it that way!
Needless to say, she was a lousy tipper (I'm just amazed she tipped at all!).
Anyway, it was a very interesting day!

Addendum to randomness:
TOTALLY smokin' guy walked in to get a massage. He smelled sooooo good and he had a piercing gaze (I've been reading far too many romance novels!)
After he was escorted back to the men's spa, his fragrance (NOT odor!) lingered around the reception area. Ahhhhhh.
After A. came to pick up his ticket, we told her how hot he was, and she just rolled her eyes at us, consummate professional that she is. Funny, how just a few minutes later she raced up to the reception as Smokin' Guy was getting situated in the treatment room, fanning her face with both hands and stating that she didn't know if this was going to work. We just laughed mockingly! She even said she had trouble looking directly at him! Making eye contact, that is. Well, HE was a good tipper!

Yes, you do get naked...

Think no evil!
I did field the question today whether one gets naked before receiving a massage.
The answer is YES, especially if you want the massage to be good! If you leave any garments on, the therapist will generally not massage that area, which means no gluteal work, and if you leave a bra on, well, the straps definitely get in the way!
Thankfully, no female client has ever left her bra on when I was working, but panties yes, all the time. Pretty frustrating!
Also had one guy leave his JEANS on. I mean, what am I supposed to do then?!
All I could do for the lower body was compressions through the sheet. BOring.
Well, I guess everyone has their comfort zones, so to speak.
Another thing I've noticed since starting work at the spa is how disadvantaged the male therapists are. So many men apparently have a problem receiving a massage from another man. Someone also told me that the thought of getting an erection from a massage by a MAN was too horrifying to contemplate! Relax, dudes! If it happens, so what? Nine times out of ten the therapist won't even notice (we're not looking at your crotches, for God's sake!), and it's a completely normal reaction to massage (as long as you're not masturbating, and you don't try to get me to touch it, in which case your ass is outta there, ASAP!).
Anyway, the bottom line is (no pun intended), if you're going to receive a full body massage, take a shower, wear the robe provided (with nothing underneath), and RELAX.
That is the ultimate massage experience!

Go Tell the Spartans...

Saw 300 on Sunday with Silver. Excellent, excellent movie, with LOTS of computer animated blood flying!
I turned to Silver at one point during the show and asked her why all the warriors weren't drenched in blood, since they were spilling it so copiously, and she suggested that maybe they were sweating it all off.
And no, in case you're wondering, I didn't worry about head lice at all while watching the flick, I think I'm mastering that phobia...YAY, ME!
The only thing that bothered me during the whole movie experience was the parents who brought the entire brood of kiddies to watch...5 kids aged about 12/13 down to maybe 4/5.
WTF were they thinking?! That they didn't want to pay for a babysitter? Well, I can tell you that their sleep in the foreseeable future is sure to be interrupted by nightmares suffered by the youngest of the children, at the minimum.
What happened to taking the kids to see a Disney flick, anyway? They don't ALL suck!

Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let me share a little vignette from the spa that got lost in all the sleaze of my last post.
The spa I work at is located at the opposite end of a hallway from the casino wedding chapel. There were NINE weddings scheduled on Valentine's Day (how cliche, no?). At about five minutes to 5:00 PM, two handsome, young, tuxedo-clad men, made notable by the panicked expressions on their faces, came storming into the spa.
"The wedding chapel, where is it?!" one gasped. My colleague and I pointed to our right and said, "All the way at the other end of the hallway!".
After they stampeded out again, my colleague and I had a chuckle over the close resemblance of the young men's eyes to the eyes of getting-ready-to-bolt horses...white all the way around!

Here's a message to people who, for whatever reason, don't want to leave a tip for their therapist or aesthetician...DON'T LIE!
I might hate you and feel bad for your therapist/aesthetician when you say, "No, thanks.", when I ask if you'd like to leave a gratuity, but I will respect your honesty.
Don't tell me you just have to get some cash and you'll be right back, or any of the other lame-ass, ridiculous excuses you come up with!
Just say NO.
That's all.

Did you miss me?

Of COURSE you did!
Well, computer issues resolved (it was a crapped-out wireless router), so here I am again, boring the masses.

Just a few vignettes of spa life:

The lovely (middle-aged, white) couple from New Jersey, who come to Vegas twice a year for conventions.
The hubby always books the couples massage in the side-by-side room, always has the same (black) male therapist massage his wife, and always tries to get this therapist to agree to completely undrape his wife's ass while it is being massaged.
So he (hubby) can watch.
Of course the therapist always refuses, because he's a professional who'd like to KEEP HIS LICENSE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!
According to both therapists involved, the hubby never has his face in the face cradle, but instead always has it turned toward his wife, so he can observe the wife-massage action.
I guess it takes all kinds. One guess what this guy's (not-so-secret) fantasy is!

Then there was the guy who spent quite some time perusing the large spa menu posted just outside our door. Who then came to the front desk and asked if we had the "special" massage that apparently wasn't listed on the menu!
When told by my colleague that all offered massages were listed, he then asked her (who happens to be Korean-American), whether she was the "only Oriental gal" doing massage at our spa. He left, obviously disappointed, after she explained to him that she wasn't a massage therapist, and that she was the only person of Asian descent working there!

This, by the way, is a recurring theme at our spa!
"Special massages" and "Orientals".
Look in the goddamn yellow pages, you fucking perverts.
You'll find everything you're looking for there.

(Yes, I've decided to be not-so PG-13 anymore. Why? Because this is how I really am and because I'm a comment whore who is desperate for any kind of response to my posts...didn't you know that about me already? ;))

Oh, and a little message to the disgusting asshole who hawked a loogie on me from who-knows-which hotel room balcony as I was leaving work:
You are very lucky that I don't know who you are. I would have had a couple of buddies from security hold you down while I permanently rearranged your tackle.
If said loogie had hit my head or face instead of my shin, the consequences for you would have been fatal. I'll leave it to your imagination, but trust me when I say that anything you can imagine falls far short of my reality...

One last vignette before I sign off for tonight:

"Naturally Santa"

As opposed to "Artificially Santa"?

Apparently this is an organization of "real" Santas, men who have the gut, the white hair and beard, and for all I know, the twinkle in their eyes! (Probably, since this is Vegas after all, the red nose and cheeks, too...alcohol is abundant here!)

Not to mention the ho-ho-hos on every street corner! (horrible pun, I know, twenty lashes with a wet noodle for me!)


One more thing.
Let it be known that Canadians are generally horrible tippers...but they're really polite about it!

Christina's Words of Wisdom #4

Whenever somebody says they "don't mean to be a bother/difficult/a pain in the ass..." they ALWAYS ARE!

Incommunicado...or is it "-da"?

Folks, I'm gonna be out of touch for a while (probably).

My wireless network has crapped out on me (since last Friday, actually), and the gurus at GeekSquad won't be able to work their magic until March 3rd (my birthday, by the way!) Happy birthday to me!
I'll have internet again!

I'm typing this on my daughter's computer, which is not an ideal arrangement, hence my lack of posts until I'm back on-line.

Take care of yourselves out there, I'll try to keep up at least on my reading every few days.

I'm sure I'll have lots of interesting spa stories to share, I already have a few saved up.

C-ya!

Interesting...

Seen in the window of a pick-up truck I parked next to at work.

Sticker 1: WARNING This truck is protected by loaded weapons!

Sticker 2: Nothing in this truck is worth dying for.

Convinced me!

Hint(s)

Here's a hint to all you folks who plan on spending time in Las Vegas...
prostitution is NOT LEGAL!!!!!!

I know, you'll see all the flippin' huge billboards reading "Hot Babes, Direct To You!!!" being driven around town on the back of trucks, and you'll be accosted on every corner by guys handing out fliers reading the same, but trust me on this, it's still not legal.

Head out to Nye county if you are interested in partaking of the ladies of the night, heck, the Chicken Ranch and Sheri's Ranch will even send a complimentary limo to pick you up and drive you there!

Just trying to help you out...

Here's another hint, a freebie:
Don't ever fall asleep in a public area of a casino, because within two minutes a security guard will be in your face, busting your chops.

It's not pretty.

On another note, not hint-related at all, if I ever get so fat that it takes me 10 minutes to walk down a 10 yard hallway, wheezing all the way while leaning (heavily, natch) on a walker, with my feet three feet apart because my thighs are so huge, either strap me to a gurney headed for the bariatric surgery center, or shoot me.

Thanks in advance, you guys rock!

Tired

I love the mountains, and I love the desert.

But I have to tell you, I'm getting really tired of the city of Las Vegas.

It's just plain UGLY.

Also tacky, tawdry, with no buildings of architectural value.
Anything that might have any historical value gets imploded to make way for the newest mega-resort or high-rise condo tower.
The streets are overcrowded and the public transportation is a joke.

On the other hand, Las Vegas has enormous energy, and one can have a lot of fun here.
Also, I've found most of the locals to be very friendly and helpful (not just in the tourist areas, either!)

Coming from the East Coast, this was a welcome change!

Don't get me wrong, Las Vegas has been very good to me, and I don't see myself leaving in the foreseeable future, but I eventually want to be somewhere
green, with trees that aren't palm trees or pines, where it rains more than five times a year, where I can have space, and feel that I can breathe freely.

Sometimes I feel like I can never be completely happy, no matter where I live, but I've come pretty damn close here.
So I guess I'll stick around for a while.

Question

Am I the only person who worries about getting head lice while watching a movie at a theater?

I mean, think about it...you're leaning your head back against the same seat that at least a hundred other heads have leaned against...chances are that somebody who sat there previously had lice! And I guarantee you that the headrests are probably the least frequently cleaned area of the theater.

I try not to think about it, or I can't enjoy the movie.

Maybe I'll start bringing a large garbage bag with me to cover that part of the seat...

Profound Words

My daughter Silver, a sophomore in high school, was sitting in her American Literature Honors class when the teacher stated (to the entire class), "YOU are the future of America!!"

Silver glanced around at her fellow students, one thought uppermost in her mind:
"Oh, God! We're doomed!!"

Miscellaneous

Well, I don't feel the burning desire anymore to try to recreate the eaten post verbatim, so I'll just give you the high notes.

I started my new job last Wednesday, worked Wednesday and Thursday and came in this past Monday to find out that the super nice lady who hired me, the Spa Director, was fired on Friday.

I also found out that I'm not the only person she promised a therapist position, there are at LEAST five other people (with seniority, no less) to whom she made identical promises!

Maybe she was fired for a reason...

The point is moot, anyway. Whoever gets hired to replace her is certainly under no obligation to honor her promises.

I'm definitely going to stick it out, though. If even half the people quit or transfer out of the spa who have threatened to in the past few days, I'll be sitting pretty!

Even though I can't get the image of rats deserting a sinking ship out of my head...

On another note, a lady I work with has a cold, and she irritated the hell out of me by sniffling all day. Being the courteous wench that I am, I graciously held out a tissue box to her, hoping she'd take the (oh, so subtle) hint and blow her frickin' nose!

Her reply, "Oh, no, I can't blow my nose. It would mess up my make-up!"

Just shoot me now.

Another colleague of mine told a client off today. She is a very amusing, tough as nails young lady, who happens to be 10 weeks pregnant.

She's massaging this guy, who is face down on the table, and he starts "wiggling", basically grinding his junk into the table.

She immediately removes her hands from him and asks (in a very stern voice), "Why are you moving?"

He replies sheepishly, "I'm just going with the flow..."

Therapist: "Well, DON'T, you are making me VERY UNCOMFORTABLE!

He didn't move an inch during the rest of the treatment session, not even when he was on his back on the table.

She definitely doesn't take any shit from the clients, and that's as it should be, though I'd be a little more diplomatic about it!

The hotel is very good about therapist security. Even though the customer is king, that stops when the treatment begins, if the client is an ass, that is.

My supervisor told me how a client asked at the very end of his massage, "Where's my happy ending?", possibly as a joke, and the therapist immediately broke off the session and security escorted the client out.

We just can't take any chances with our safety or our licenses, and all these losers have to do to get that kind of massage is open the phone book!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I saw the following sign outside a conference/convention hall today:

Steel Stud Manufacturing Association

I'm sorry, but as a healthy woman with an off-kilter sense of humor, one who lives in a town where the Chippendales have their own, permanent, theater, many thoughts unrelated to metal nailheads raced through my brain.

Needless to say, quite a few of them were x-rated naughty.

C'mon, "Steel Stud"??!!

The possibilities for abuse are endless!

_____________________________________________________________________________________

What I'm reading right now:

Rereading the entire Honor Harrington series by David Weber, I'm almost finished with "War of Honor".

Absolutely excellent books which will always have a permanent place on my keeper shelf.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Take care of yourselves, folks, and have a great weekend!
(Yes, I know it's only Thursday night, but my weekend starts tomorrow, yaaaay!)

Son of a Bitch!

Blogger ate my post.

I'll have to recreate it tomorrow, 'cause I've got to crash.

Big Day

Tomorrow's the big day...I'm starting my new job!

I'm excited, nervous, excited, scared, excited, well, you get the idea!

I will be working in a wonderful Spa on the Strip.

Unfortunately, I won't be able to perform massage until I have my license, the extremely pain-in-the-ass process of which I spoke in an
earlier post.

That's all right with me! I'll be working initially as a Spa Coordinator (fancy way of saying "receptionist"), and Spa Attendant (basically handing out towels, offering beverages and snacks, etc.)
This will afford me the excellent opportunity of really learning the ropes BEFORE I start massaging folks. So I won't feel like I'm being thrown to the wolves...this is a GOOD thing!

Anyway, it's nice to be able to share the positive stuff instead of just whining as usual.

One quick whine before I go...it's f'ing FREEZING here! This is Vegas, WTF?!
I actually hit a patch of ice driving home today...totally not prepared for that.
We even had some snow last week.
And to think I moved to Vegas to get away from shitty weather like this...

Rice Krispies

As I'm getting old(er), I realize more and more that I resemble Rice Krispies.
Every time I move, I hear "SNAP, CRACKLE, AND POP"! Especially my knees.
It sucks.

I think I'm in love...

Yup, he's a hero all right.

Read about this lovely man!

I guess any other suspects involved might think twice about trying something like this again!

Have a great weekend, folks.

Finally!

Finished, finis, fertig, done!!!

I finally, finally graduated from Massage Therapy School on December 20th.

With a 4.0 average, thankyouverymuch!

I took my National Certification Examination for Therapeutic Massage and Bodywork (NCETMB for "short") on January 2nd and PASSED! With high scores in every category!

I guess I'd better update my profile.

Now, I just have to go through the incredibly frustrating, expensive, all-around pain in the ass licensing process.

I have to get a state license, a Clark County License, and since I plan on doing out calls for my private practice, licenses for Henderson, North Las Vegas, and the City of Las Vegas!

And I also need to get a Health Card and Sheriff's (or Metro) Card.

The "wonderful" new state license unfortunately does not replace all the others, I have to get it in addition to them!

I'm not permitted to perform massage in my home (for pay), I can run my business OUT of my home, but am not allowed to touch anybody there (for pay).

The reason for all this crap is fairly obvious once you open the local yellow pages to the Massage section.

Here's a brief glimpse of the typical full page ads there:

"Blissful...Fantastic Asian Massage...Our Masseuses (!) will lead you to a blissful and relaxing experience...satisfaction guaranteed...hot oil rubdown...1st class full service full body massage...no rush attitude!"

"Superstars massage...excellent full body massage...treatment for kings (what about the queens!)...friendly and skilled masseuses (!)... hot oil slow caressing-secret touch...body shampoo and body scrub from head to toe"

"Awesome Asian Touch...hot oil rubdown massage...our job is to pamper you and make you RELAX from head to toe!...enjoy the tender touch of our friendly masseuses (!)"

Well, you get the idea. I must note that most of these ads are in lurid shades of pink and red, depicting cherries, lipstick (WTF?), and hearts, among other things, and also that some "masseuses" perform the "massage" in bikinis or lingerie (that's right there in the ad).

It's gotten to the point that the few legitimate therapists who advertise in the phone book actually have to put "non-sexual" in their ads, and I'm sure they still get calls requesting the other kind!

My school, and a few of my instructors especially, strongly suggested we NOT advertise in the phone book. I'm just going for referrals from my existing clientele, I'm not going to advertise at all, especially since my private practice will mostly consist of out calls (going to peoples' homes to perform the massage).

In other news, I had a fantastic Christmas with all three of my spawn, the younger two of whom I hadn't seen in a year (because of school), they are THISCLOSE to being as tall as their big sister, and I'm sure within the next six months they will surpass her.

Heh, heh, heh!

I don't know why I find this so amusing...maybe because it's karma?
I told her and told her when they were little not to pick on her baby sisters so much, because they might grow bigger than her and there are TWO of them.

Hmmm, didn't know I was psychic!

Anywho, it's time for me to order some yummy pizza and settle in for an evening of watching Silver play "Okami", it's like watching a movie!

I know, my life is all thrills and chills, innit? ;)

December

My favorite month in Las Vegas.

Why, you ask?

N F R, Baby!

In case you are not in the know, that stands for National Finals Rodeo.

Do I care who wins which event? Do I even watch (no TV, remember?)?

NO!

But I work in a casino on the Strip, and what do I see?

Cowboys, everywhere!

Everywhere I look - cowboy hats, cowboy boots, supertight jeans, and BIG, GIANT...belt buckles!

Mmmmm, cowboys.

I love the smell of leather in the morning.

The mind boggles!

Seen this evening on my drive to school:

A black pick-up truck with gold lettering on the tailgate...

Atilla the Handyman

702-xxx-xxxx

What's up with blogger?

Either my sidebar is where it belongs, but the top of my title is chopped off, or the title box looks fine, but my sidebar has gone to Mexico!
Does anybody know if these are glitches that they are working on, or is this something I need to fix myself (somehow...)?

Tag, you're it! Or something to that effect...

My friend European over at Girl With Greencard has put in a request for me to list six weird things about me.
I'll give it my best shot!

1) I live in Las Vegas and hate to gamble. Not only does gambling have all the entertainment value of watching paint dry (in my not-so-humble opinion), but if I wanted to throw my money away, I could just flush it down the toilet!

2) When I want to torture my spawn, let's say they have been obnoxious and won't listen to me, I start talking with various accents, a British or Southern one.
IT FREAKS THEM OUT.
I soon have them begging me to stop, promising excellent behavior, etc.
Also, I have a very powerful soprano singing voice, so when trapped in the car (a two-door Hyundai Accent) with misbehaving spawn, I have been known to SING my displeasure. Loudly, at a Very. High. Pitch. Rattling windows and all.
Works like a charm, every time.

3) Every item of clothing, every box of cereal, every other vaguely box-shaped item with a label in my house faces left, invariably. Don't ask me, I don't know (great Ozzie song, btw.!)
I also have all my books alphabetized by author. All other food items, such as cans or bottles, must face forward so you can see the label, and are grouped together (no, they are NOT alphabetized, I'm not that anal!)

4) I'm not much on comedies where the humor is derived from people being humiliated.
Even though I'm aware it's not real, that they are actors, etc., I feel too embarrassed to watch.
If I'm in the movie theater, and something like that happens, I'll close my eyes and cover my ears. It used to be really bad when I was a kid, if we were watching Gomer Pyle or something similar, I'd usually run out of the room!

5) I can read a book I like over and over again, I even have some books from when I was a kid, and now my kids are reading them. The weird thing is that even if I've read a book a million times, if it made me cry the first time I read it, it'll make me cry the millionth time I read it!
I get so absorbed when I read that I tune everything out (one of the reasons my marriage failed, I believe!). My kids learned quickly to physically push the book down to break my connection with it. I even got locked in the library when I was twelve, because I didn't notice them closing up and shutting off the lights!

6) I sometimes think quirky thoughts. For example, the other morning on my drive to work I noticed a lone men's dress shoe lying in the middle of the Strip.
I immediately started speculating...whose shoe was it? Did it miss its mate? Where was the matching shoe right now? Would somebody save the shoe, would drivers swerve to miss it, or would it end up a smear on the road surface by the end of the day? Where has that shoe been, and how did it get there? I've learned not to share thoughts like these with people, because I always get a blank stare, followed by, "You're weird, you know that?"
But I can share with YOU, right????

Well those are my six weird things, but I'll throw in a bonus seventh:
I HATE television. That makes me weird to most Americans, so I guess it qualifies as something to list here. I don't even receive local channels. I have a TV set so we can watch DVDs and play video games.

That's all folks! I'll not tag anybody else, because it appears this is spreading like wildfire, and most people whose blogs I read have already been tagged!

Thanks, European!

Christina's Words of Wisdom #3

No matter how fat you are (or think you are), you can ALWAYS find somebody fatter! I.E., someone who makes you say, "And I thought MY ass was big!"