Lesson learned

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


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

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

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

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

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

Finally

Tomorrow I start a new phase in my life.

Sounds overly dramatic, but it's true!

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

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

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

I'm so happy!

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

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

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

Right?!

*sounds of stifled laughter drifting through the ether*

Oh, well.

On my way home today...

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

Must've lost a bet!

Get the fire good and hot...

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

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

RANDALL'S

it proclaimed.

Wow.

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

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

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

Murphy's Law Massage

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

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

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

And the clock's ticking...

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

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

And the clock's ticking...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank the FSM I'm wearing gloves!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We even get tips. Go figure.

What a way to impress your trainer, no?

---

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

Massage Humor

You had to've been there...

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

K: The coracoid process?

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

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

Me: WHAT?!

K: The bird's pecker!

Me: You mean the beak, right?

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

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

Yes, Mistress!

Woof, woof.

Air Show

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

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

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

Pics to follow.

Thank you.

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

Since I've got nuthin'

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

Your Inner European is Dutch!

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

Who's Your Inner European?

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

Talk to you later!

Stay outta my spa!

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

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

And they give me a headache.

And they make me sneeze.

Thank you, that is all.

Flashback

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



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

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

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

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

Then he'd pointed to himself and me.

I'd nodded eagerly.

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

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

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

Life was sweet.

Note to self...

crate dogs BEFORE attempting to massage daughter.

Last Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday

Saturday it was that time again.

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

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

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

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

Except the stress, that she could do without.

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

Sad, but true.

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

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

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

Take care, people!

It's about time...

for a carwash, I know.

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




*just kidding, I love kitties!

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

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

Randomness

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

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

---

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

I go to school for the babes.

---

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

Blech.

I get enough ass at work.

Wait, that came out wrong...

Yum, yum

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

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

Thank you, Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department!

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

Get out your compass...

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

(After finding out the opening hours, etc.)

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

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

Me:...

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

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

Me: !!!

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

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

Me: Thank you! *You fucking MORON!*

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

ZOMG!!1!11!!

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

My pups are celebrities, whoo-hoo!

*sniff*

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

Too much fun...

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

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

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

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

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

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

I have to say, I was kinda envious.

And he did fall asleep, too!

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...

Happy! Happy! Happy...

Blogiversary to MEEEEEEE!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No clue.

Thanks, you guys!

WTF?

Why do I keep dreaming about elephants?

Last night I dreamed I was massaging a baby elephant.

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

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

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

Will the hysteria never end?

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

Case in point:

2nd-Grader Suspended for Drawing of Gun


Oct 20, 4:41 PM (ET)


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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

Fuck you, Clark County School District!

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

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

It just sickens me.

Doggie Walk-A-Thon

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

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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



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

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





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

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



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

Ten seconds later...



Maybe I'll join them...

Have a great week!

Dangers of the Dog Park...

Always stay alert at the dog park.

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

Like this:



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

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

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

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

See how I treat you!

Here they are, sniffing something interesting;



Have a great Friday, People!

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

Prison Movie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully Capt. Kirk will not be there tomorrow!

Maybe I should pack a water gun...

And advise my dogs not to drop the soap.

Nice Mom...?

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



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

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

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

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

Just sayin'...

Favorite song at the moment.

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




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

Pussies.

---

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

---

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

The perfect cup of coffee...

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

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

Drinkable coffee.

Meanwhile, back at the spa...

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

This is secondhand, so bear with me.

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

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

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

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

He, again politely, told them off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he was serious!

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

College Fair

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

He was very nice and answered several questions.

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

Army - check

Nevada National Guard - check

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

USAF - AWOL

USN - AWOL

I wonder why?

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Yup, I was right.

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

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

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

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

Sheesh.

---

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

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

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

-Reconstructive Pelvic Surgery
-Labial Reduction
-Laser Vaginal Rejuvenation

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

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

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

Right? Right?

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

---

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

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

Homecoming

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

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

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

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

They beat us 54 to 6.

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

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

Silver playing some tunes:



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

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





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

And yet more...

random blogthings...

You Are Not Destined to Rule the World

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

Are You Destined For World Domination?

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

Another bit of 'net flotsam...

Am-I-Dumb.com - Intelligence Test

But still fun!

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

I RULE!!!

I did it! I tied with AD...



NameThatDisease.com - Test your disease knowledge

...in a completely meaningless blogosphere test.

Oh, well.

Quick Spa Tales

Just a quickie...

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

Me: Uh, yeah...?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he needs glasses.

---

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

Sign

Seen at the Kessler and Sons Music Store yesterday:

"Shoplifters will be cheerfully beaten to a bloody pulp"

I find this sign endlessly amusing.

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

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

Heigh-ho, Silver! Away!

D'oh!

Some people need to learn to relax.

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

I wonder what the coroner will discover...

Tip Karma

I never question tip karma.

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

I merely reply, "Tip karma."

"Oh," they nod sagely.

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

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

At least, that's my hope.

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

Take today, for instance.

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

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

WTF?!

See, it makes no sense!

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

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

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

*crickets chirping*

Oh, well.

I wanna...

I really, really want to attend this class.

With my daughter.

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

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

Sigh.

---

What I'm reading right now:

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

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

GO, READ, NOW!

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

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

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

Extremely historically detailed, very well plotted and written.

I recommend highly!

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

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

It was COOL.

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

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

Snippet reposted from 9/17/07:

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

Barbecue pork ribs.

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

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

---

In massage news:

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

To say I felt uncomfortable would be an understatement!

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

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

I also massaged a redneck.

Literally!

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

Including his ears.

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

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

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

*ADDITION*

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

No?

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

Saturday (the 15th, not the 22nd)

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

Yay!

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

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





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

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



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



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



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



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

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

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



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



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



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

The nerve of some people!



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

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

10

Hairspray.

10 times.

'Nuff said.

Hat Trick!

Yes!

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

Woo-hoo!

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

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

"Mmmmmm"

"Oh, yeah!"

"That feels sooooo gooood"

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

Thankfully the snoring commenced before I felt too disturbed.

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

:)

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Then I went to town!

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

Even though I'm 37, not 17.

---

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

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

Faugh!

Marching Band, wheeeee!

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

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

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

Here's Silver, taking a break.



And here she is, working hard.




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



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

Blog Pimpage!

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

Silver's Blog...

AKA "My Blog Pwns your Blog!"

Go. Read. It's funny!

Chip off the old block...

Photobucket sucks.

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

---

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

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

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

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

I get enough of ass-cheeks at work!

---

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

Squeeeee!

I love surprises, and I LOVE new books!

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

---

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

I don't want to know.

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

---

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

Barbecue pork ribs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

D'oh!!!

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

And a delivery truck with its hub caps awash.

Stuck.

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

---

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



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

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

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

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

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

Hmmmm.

---

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

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



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



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

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

Messing with people's heads!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Germans found it amusing, needless to say!

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

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

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

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

Slacker

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

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

FREE.

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

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

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

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

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

Can you say I suck?

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

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

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

Speaking of slacking...

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

That's better than silence.

Dork

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

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

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

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

Do I need help?

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

You tell me!

Note to self...

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

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

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

Freaky!

File this one under "TMI".

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

I shot myself in the eye.

At least milk doesn't leave one permanently blinded.

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

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...