Men<--------->Dogs

Don't worry, this isn't a man-bashing post.

I LOVE men.

There's just one little thing that I noticed today...

You know how sometimes, when a dog farts, it whips its head around in surprise and stares at its ass, as if to say, "Was that...me? Did that come from ME?!"

Well, men who get erections when I massage them react exactly the same!

If a client is lying on his back, and I'm massaging his foot and working my way up his leg, and out of the corner of my eye I see his head shoot up off the table as he looks down his body, I don't even have to look at his crotch to know what I'll see...

Smart Puppies!

My dogs are very, very smart. They figured out within a day or two what it means when I put on my beat-up, velcro sneakers...dog park!

I love my pups.

Speaking of the dog park, the other evening, while Harley and Tucker were play-fighting and their hackles were raised all along their spines, a man came up to me and actually asked whether they were Rhodesian ridgebacks...lol!

Sunny Lucas would be appalled!

She could eat my Italian Greyhounds as a snack, then look around for some pork treats.

I set the guy straight pretty darn quickly. Amateur.

Boobies!

Made you look!

Actually, the title refers to a conversation I had with a gal at work today, concerning push-up bras. I contended it's false advertising, you know, you go in a room together and get naked, the bra comes off...*fwoooosh*, good-bye perky boobies!

Disappointment ensues.

She completely disagreed with me, saying that since you're not padding your bra with anything, it's NOT false advertising...her exact words were, "You're just taking the girls out for a walk!"

LOL!

What do you think?

Good news/Bad news

The good news first, 'cause I'm just like that.

I had my last algebra class today before our final next week, we got our tests back from Tuesday, I got a 101 out of a possible 109 points, I made a couple of bone-headed mistakes, oh well. HOWEVER...I calculated that I could get a 30 on my final and still get an "A" as my final grade!

Woo-hoo! Of course, being me, I can't NOT try my absolute best to get an A on the final, anyway. Even though I don't need it.

---

Now the bad news.

The following memo was waiting for my in my distro-box at work (today was my Monday):

(NO salutation!)

Effective May 30, 2008 there will no longer be an hourly wage for all service providers. We are moving forward with the 30 percent commission. You will receive one extra percent per year you have been with the company up to 35 percent. You will continue to receive your health benefits and paid time off as long as you are on property for 32 hours per week. Providers will continue to clock in and out and will be responsible for maintaining your hourly count. We are working diligently to make sure this is a profitable transition for you and the company. If you have any questions please feel free to see me or ________. Sincerely, ___________

---

Basically I'll be losing a boat-load of money every paycheck. Yes, the commission has increased...from 25%! That doesn't make up for what we're losing. Not to mention that I'll only be making money when we're busy. If I don't get any services, I don't get paid. I'm really, really glad we keep our benefits, believe me! I'm in the middle of orthodontia, and it would suck if everything came out-of-pocket all of a sudden. Not to mention I have some surgery planned as well.

If only people tipped better, that would make a big difference!

Well, I had my schedule changed so I have three days off per week. Time to find a part-time job.

*sigh*

I'm sorry, I have failed you...

I've fallen off the "no caffeine"-wagon....*sob*...forgive me?

Over the past week, I've had the occasional cup of coffee. I just can't seem to give it up completely, dammit!

Oh, well. Having at least one vice keeps me from being utterly boring, I guess.

Teh Awesome!

Silver and I went to a matinee viewing of "Iron Man" today.

It totally kicked ASS!!!

That's my review.

Dilemma

So, can anyone tell me a good way to let someone behind you know that their headlights are off?

I think I scared a poor woman while leaving school this evening, and she drove off on her merry way, with no lights.

*sigh*

Dear Ms. B.L.,

I don't care that you're a lawyer. Nor do I care that you're wearing a rock the size of a jaw breaker on your finger, and several more around your neck.

You, my dear, are uncouth. It's bad enough that you didn't wash your hands after you used the toilet, but then to touch ME on the neck to show me where your problem areas are, with your disgusting, germy hands...*shudder*.

I'll have you know that only the fact that I'm a professional kept me from shrieking in horror when your fingers touched my neck, and that my flesh was crawling during the entire massage.

I couldn't wait for the massage to be over, because immediately afterwards I ran to our utility sink and scrubbed my neck and shoulders with a soapy wash-cloth. I hated giving you my business card, even though you asked for one, because I hope I never have to massage you again.

And a two-dollar tip, on top of that? Adding insult to injury, really. (BTW, I split your oh-so-generous tip between the two front desk people, because I didn't want those two dollar bills in my purse, bad tip-karma, dontcha know!)

And the young lady who was in the spa at the same time as you? You know, the gal with the tattoos, facial piercings and black-painted toe nails? SHE washed her hands after going to the bathroom, and I'd rather massage her than you ANY day.

Thank you, that is all.

Freudian slip...?

I have a little routine speech at the beginning of every massage, you know, instructions to the client, etc. It usually goes something like this:

"I'd like you to start face-down on the table, between the sheets, with your face in the face rest...blah, blah, blah."

What I instead said to a client today, who, physically at least, was pretty much my ideal man:

"I'd like you between the sheets..."

D'OH!

I just kept on babbling, hoping he hadn't noticed (and praying his WIFE, who was getting a massage in the same room, hadn't noticed), then escaped to wait outside of the room while both of them got situated.

As I stood outside in the hallway, one thought was running through my mind while I waited for my blush to fade: Blog-fodder!

Clients!

I had a busy day today (yay, money!), but only two clients stand out in my memory.
The first was a lady who'd never had a massage before (yay, massage newbies!), and she had booked a package that included a 25-minute shoulder, neck, and back massage.
I believe I've mentioned the nifty rolling stools we therapists have in each treatment room; we use them at the end of the massage, when we're doing the neck, face, and scalp. When not in use, the stools are usually shoved as far under the table as they'll go, at the head of the table, underneath the face rest the clients use...

Yup, my client left a puddle of drool on my stool (ha! A rhyme...I'm a poet and didn't know it!). I laughed my ass off when I saw it, luckily before I sat down. Thankfully this was after the session had ended, otherwise, had I needed to use the stool during the massage, I probably wouldn't have seen the drool in the dark and would have sat on it.

The other client was only remarkable in her toes. I don't think I've mentioned it HERE, but I really, really am disturbed by French pedicures. They creep me out for some reason. Not only did this lady have one, but her toes were freakishly long and thin. Maybe it's just that I'm used to seeing the typical, stubby toes that sorta have a ball at the end, but to me, her toes looked very weird.

Well, that's today's client wrap-up! Otherwise a lucrative yet uneventful day.

Nuthin'

I got pretty much nuthin' to blog about. It's all been the same-old, same-old. I have my last chapter test in algebra next Tuesday, then my final (gulp!) the following Tuesday. I'm not too worried, I just need to study a bit, should be fine.
Oh, and my schedule at work is changing as of the 16th. I'll be working four tens (Sat-Tue), and have W-Th-F off! Hopefully I can handle the ten-hour-shifts...
Other than these extremely fascinating and informative items for your delectation, I have nothing to report.
Nighty-night!

Breaking the habit

So, as you all know, I quit drinking soda on February 27th (woo-hoo, two months!). This past Wednesday, I decided to also quit all caffeine consumption. It's been four full days, and I don't think I'm going to die.
Yay, me.
Time for bed, g'night!

"We'll have a gay, old time!"

No, not the Flintstones, unfortunately.

There's been some kind of gay event going on in town, I don't have a clue what it is because, really, I don't care.

HOWEVER, it's lead to some activity at the spa I thought I'd share with you, my precious readers.

Three gay guys walked into the spa (sounds like a bad joke, I know), two of them were a couple and the third a friend of theirs. J., the attendant, is from Peru, and his English is some ways from being perfect, but I'll try to recreate verbatim what he told me at lunch yesterday...

J.: The one man, he says, "You so handsome, when you off work?", then he try to touch my face!

Me: Oh my GOD! What did you do?

J.: *swinging his left hand in a short arc*
I do "Miyagi-san BLOCK"! Then I say, "You can see, but you can't touch!"

Me: *laughing* Wax on, wax off!

J.: *nodding* Yes! Then later, they having sex in the jacuzzi!

Me: WHAT?!

J.: *smacking his fist into his palm* Like this!

Me: Did you call security?!

J.: No, they were almost finish.

Me:!?!?!

J.: I don't like when I have to stop, so I no stop them.

Me: Arrgggh!

After lunch, this led to a conversation with our lead therapist, who had only heard that the gentlemen had been "touching" each other, not about the full-on sex. Considering how truly awful it would be for our spa to get a reputation in certain circles, I'm afraid we're going to have to be hard-asses about this sort of thing in the future, pun not intended. Not to mention that we could have ugly fights on our hands, should some straight guy get propositioned or witness the sex acts.

I'd like to know why these men feel it's in any way appropriate to have sex in a public place, not to mention the one guy repeatedly sexually harassing the staff (J. said that the single dude grabbed his thigh, but he did his "Miyagi-san BLOCK!" again.)

Oh, well. The potential of being caught in the act probably added to the thrill.

Memed again!

Blondefabulous tagged me with this interesting meme, I need to mention six unspectacular quirks of mine...hmmmmm.

Must think about this. Things I think are perfectly normal might seem quirky to others!

1) My daughter just pointed out how I literally "squeeeee" when I've finished a book I really, really enjoyed. Except I guess it's more of an "Eeeeeeeeee" sound. If you want to get technical. Whatever!

2) I have conversations with my dogs. In weird, weird voices, often in baby-talk, too. They haven't answered me back yet, but you never know...

3) I ALWAYS unplug the toaster when the bread's finished toasting, and it remains unplugged until the next time it's used. Ditto for the coffee maker. I think this is because I read somewhere when I was a kid about house fires being started by plugged-in toasters, or something. My kids have been trained to do this as well.

4) I can sleep anywhere, under almost any circumstances, if I'm tired enough. Also, I can sleep perfectly fine on my bed without any covers whatsoever, and most people consider this very, very strange.

5) I always have at least one book with me, wherever I go...JUST IN CASE.

6) I am obsessed with sudoku, and sometimes I'm super good at it, and sometimes you'd think I was a moron.

Okay, I think that about wraps it up. I'm up past my bed-time!

I won't tag anyone, since I've been doing that very often lately. If you feel inspired to do it, feel free.

What the...?!

I massaged a lady today who, among many other tattoos, had "Adolf" tattooed in cursive at the base of her neck.

Who the hell names their child "Adolf" nowadays?!

I also had a client who had an 80-minute deep tissue session scheduled, and requested that I only massage his shoulders, neck, and back. Now that's what I call a challenge!
I almost exhausted my repertoire of "tricks", and had to reach back far in my memories, all the way back to school, to come up with things to do. Also, making shit up totally works!

Other than that nothing exciting to report. Have had no wardrobe malfunctions, nor have I locked my keys in my car. That's what I call a successful day!

That poor woman.

My first client of the day, bright and early at 8:00 AM, was a very glum, non-communicative lady.

Didn't smile when I greeted her, half-grunted in reply to my question of, "How is everything?" during the massage, just had a little rain-cloud hovering over her head.

After our session, she seemed a little better, managed a slight smile, said she felt more relaxed, but when I told her she had use of the spa for the entire day, that she could come and go as many times as she liked before 6:00 PM, her face fell again, and she said, "I'll be spending the whole day with my husband and his ex-wife."

While my brain froze in horror, not even wanting to contemplate such a fate, my mouth came up with this: "Well, no wonder you needed a massage...you'll probably need one later today, too!"

She just replied, "Wouldn't surprise me..," and went to her locker to get dressed, the first step on her journey to hell.

Oooops II

So, yesterday I survived walking around wearing rent garments in public (I've ALWAYS wanted to say "rent garments"!)

This morning started off just fine. One of my pups, Tucker, was scheduled to get his rabies shot at 10:00 AM, so figuring he wouldn't want to run around a lot afterwards, I decided to sacrifice my "sleeping-in" and take Silver to school (with the dogs, at 6:45 AM (!)), then head over to the dog park to get a romp in before his appointment.

We arrived at the park at around 7:15 or so, and it was freezing! I don't get this weather. On Monday we almost hit 90, today the high was only 67, with winds topping 25mph. So trust me when I say, it was cold. I guess I was discombobulated by the wind, because normally I put the car keys in my pocket as I open the door, AFTER leaning over to unlock the passenger-side door (where I let the pups out, I have a two-door car). Well, this morning I tossed the keys into the bag on the passenger seat, got out of the car while locking the door, and the wind immediately slammed it shut while it slowly dawned on me that I had for once neglected to unlock the other door. Yup, keys and dogs inside, me outside.

*sigh*

Thank goodness I had automatically followed my normal, dog-park precaution of stuffing my cell phone in my jeans pocket before even leaving home, because I'd have been toast without it.

I called the non-emergency police number, 311 for those of you NOT in the know, and the lovely Metro dispatcher transferred me to "Pop-a-Lock", the 24/7 locksmith folks.

Even though I was rapidly turning into an icicle I was thankful for the cold, since my dogs were comfy in their fleece-lined crate. They just curled up and went to sleep while we waited, especially since I was leaning against the car where they could see me. If this had happened a few months from now, I definitely would have been frantic, because of the lethally high temperatures inside vehicles. As it was, Sir Pop-a-Lock, my knight in greasy armor, arrived promptly, and $49.95 later, within 45 minutes of my original call, the pups and I were happily doing our dog-park thing.

I have to mention I was seriously alarmed at how quickly and easily he popped open the car door. Scary! Of course, under the circumstance I was relieved, but still it was disturbing. Not like the movies at all, though. He used an inflatable cushion, which he slid between the door and the frame of the car, and which he pumped up using a bulb like that of a manual blood-pressure cuff, to create a space big enough to slide in the long tool for, well, popping the lock! 30 seconds, max.

Anyway, I just figured the day could only get better from there, and I was right!

The strangely amusing thing about all this is, I'm one of those anal-retentive people about my keys. I'm very paranoid about just this subject. I've never, even when I had three kids in car seats to wrangle, misplaced my car keys or locked them inside the car or trunk. NEVER. I even occasionally mock myself about it. Guess I'm not laughing now!

Oh, well. Lesson learned.

Christina=Ooooops!

I have these denim capris I haven't worn since last summer, and it's been so warm here the past few days, I broke them out and decided to wear them. They're very comfy and fit well...or so I thought!
Today was my typical Tuesday: Hit the chiropractor first, then went back home, collected the pups, and took them to the dog park. We hung out there for quite a while, despite the very strong wind that was trying to blow us all the way to Utah. Dogs tired out, we headed back since it was time to pick Silver up from school.
That little task accomplished, I was preceding her up the stairs when she hesitantly said, "Uh, Mom? I think you need to change your pants...those are ripped right up the back and I can see your underwear!"

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Was I walking around all day like that?! I mean, I used the restroom several times, wouldn't I have noticed a gaping seam?! I'd like to think so, otherwise I just have to accept the fact that I was flashing my underoos all morning.

*sigh*

Just another typical Tuesday...

Excuse me?!

I had just walked into my local Smith's grocery store, still in my uniform of beige polo shirt and black scrubs pants. I had my purse over one shoulder and had picked up a shopping basket with the other hand, when a gentleman came up to me and asked, "Hey, where's your beer?"

I looked at him totally befuddled for a second, then blurted, "I don't know! I don't work here!"

He just said, "Okay," and walked away.

WTF?

Smith's employees wear bright red shirts. RED. Not beige. And they don't normally wander around carrying purses, either.

A cashier saw the whole thing and laughed her ass off. Maybe I should change careers?

Must ponder...

Friday Potpourri

Let's see...

I massaged a lovely lady from Aubrey, Texas today. Every new person from Texas I meet just makes me want to live there more.

I did an 80 minute deep tissue massage on a young man who literally took all the pressure I could provide. Not only was he NOT wincing or twitching, he instead "treated" me to his entire repertoire of sex-noises. I'm not kidding. The moans, half-choked gasps, little relishing sounds, "Oh, yeah's!", and "Wow's!" never stopped. It made me very uncomfortable at first, until it was time for him to turn over onto his back and I realized he wasn't aroused in the slightest (thank GOD!)
I guess he was just showing his appreciation...? At any rate, I knew for sure he was enjoying himself! He tipped me $50.00 (!), and told me he'd be back on Monday for another massage!

And a word to the wise, for all you extremely bashful folks out there who absolutely insist on wearing your underwear during a massage: At least make sure it's nice underwear! Please, no tatty, ragged, faded, worn, or stained underwear. Your therapist will thank you. (Mentally, at least!)

Seen on my drive home today...

A license plate frame proclaiming the following:

Girls will be Girls...And Boys will be our Toys

Insert Beavis and Butthead laughter here...

I wonder...

Did the college administration actually heed my words?

There has been a change...tonight there were TWO empty campus police cars parked in front of the classroom building.

Hmmmm. I am taking a math class after all...what's two times ZERO?!

Ahhhhhh...

The best $9.99 I've ever spent. What a difference it's made already. Happy! :)

Memeishness

Considering how I've been tagging people left and right lately, I guess it's only fair that I should get tagged in turn. Bread upon the water, right?

Anyhoo, Phlegm Fatale has honored me, and I must fulfill my memeish duty.

Link meme rules:

1. Must be clean, no R rated material.
2. Tell 5 people.
3. Only 5 links allowed.
4. Link back to person who tagged you.

You can link to business, favorite, affiliate sites, etc.

1. Okay, don't think that'll be TOO difficult.
2. Who to pick, who to pick? Hmmmm. Trashman, Zelda, BO Snagley, Ambulance Driver, and Jethro
3. Albino Blacksheep, Glumbert, Amazon.com, of COURSE!!, Baen's free library, and the webcam at storchennest.de, which shows the entire mating/brood cycle of a pair of storks. Don't forget about the time difference, the 'cam's in Germany! I almost forgot Think Geek! *gasp* How dare I?! I know the rule says only five links, but I'm a rebel like that.
4. Already done above.

Furry little bastards!

It seems my pups consider 6:20 AM a DANDY time to get up, even on my day off...

*grumble mutter stupid grrrr wanna sleep grumble*

Can't say bird-watching is exactly an interest of mine...

BUT, I saw what I think was a yellow-headed blackbird in the employee parking lot today as I was walking toward the casino. As accustomed as I am to seeing sparrows and rats-with-wings pigeons every day, this was a first for me. A very striking and beautiful bird, one which I believe is migrating right now. Cool.

Less cool was getting a mild case of food poisoning from eating breakfast at the EDR (employee dining room). I wasn't the only spa employee who suffered, either. We've narrowed it down to the scrambled eggs or the oatmeal, and I vote EGGS.

Ugh. Thank God someone had pepto-bismol, or it would have gotten ugly, fast.

Anyway, it's my Friday, so I wanted to say "wheeeeee!" Thanks, I needed that.

hot-hot-hot

The a/c at work crapped out today. In a spa with a hot tub, sauna, and steam room. With hot-rock roasters, hot-towel cabbies, and showers running constantly.

It was hell.

I only had three massages today, but I was sweating so much, I worried that I was walking around trailing a fragrance reminiscent of the sweaty gym socks you find buried at the back of your locker at the end of the school year.

I availed myself of the complimentary deodorant we have for the guests quite often.

My last massage of the day was a hot-stone massage. I took a cold gel-pack from the freezer, wrapped it in a washcloth, and stuck it down the back of my shirt.

Necessity is the mother of invention!

Hopefully the a/c unit will be un-frozen by tomorrow! I need to invest in a small, quiet fan...

Newsweek

I saw the cover of Newsweek as I was waiting in the checkout line at my local Smith's.
I did a double take as I read the caption, and immediately snagged an issue and added it to my groceries.

Here's a link to the article.

I really enjoyed reading the article, and have to say I totally identify with some of the ladies interviewed. I felt no bond or attachment to the twins I carried, and had no depression whatsoever. I'd do it again in a heartbeat, if they'd let me. Unfortunately, gestational diabetes put the kibosh on that. Here's my version of the cover photo:


I wonder why I wasn't interviewed?
Not that I'd have been able to talk!

Again with the drool...

So, I saw this guy again yesterday morning, but at least I kept control of my vehicle.
Sadly, he was wearing more clothes, a t-shirt and baggy cargo shorts this time, so I didn't get to admire his physique as much. Also, he frustratingly kept his back turned toward me, and his head down, since he was polishing away at his boots.
Oh, well. It's not like anything could come of it, anyway, since security staff is expressly forbidden to date any other employees. But a girl can dream, right...?

I'm sorry, I can't help myself...

I have to post more stuff my 16-year-old daughter told me. I don't want to forget it, and if I can share it here, so much the better! You can skip this post if you want...

The other night at dinner, we were talking about dating, specifically why she doesn't want to date high school boys (stupid and immature), and what she'd be looking for in a guy at college and beyond.

She said, "I'd have to go with a nerd."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"A nerd would be sure to understand at least HALF of what I say!"

Hmmmmm. She's on to something there.

---

Last night at dinner we were talking about death and any possible afterlife.

Silver said, "If there IS a heaven and hell, I think I'd rather go to hell."

"WHAT?! WHY?!"

"Well, if heaven and hell exist, can you imagine the zealots that are up there? I'd rather be in hell with all my gay friends, 'cause according to a lot of people, that's where they're headed."

"..." I had nothing to say to that!

Overheard in a classroom this evening...

Professor at the white-board, explaining two ways to solve a problem...

Christina raises hand and is called upon by prof: Can you also solve it this way...*blah, blah, blah*?

Prof: Absolutely, very good, Christina!

Snot-nosed kid sitting next to Christina: Is that how you learned to do it in school?

Christina: Honestly, I think this is the first time I've ever done this stuff...it's been over twenty years since I had algebra.

SNKSNTC: Seriously?! You don't LOOK that old!

Christina: Gee. Thanks.

---

And College Administration?

Parking a completely empty campus police car in front of the classroom building night after night is absolutely no deterrent to crime.

Neither is putting a reflective vest on a weenie and having him toodle around the campus in an electric golf-cart outfitted with a flashing yellow light and a decal that says "Public Safety Officer".

Your "campus security" is teh suxxor.

Wow, almost a quarter...?

I knew I had a potty mouth, but I didn't think I was this bad!

I've found my soulmate!

I was just driving home from class, and I got stuck behind a big old Ford pick-up truck. The license plate read: TRUTEXN

I think I'm in love!

Of course, if the driver is a woman, I'm screwed.

Speaking of class, got the test I took last Tuesday back...112 out of 114!

I made a stupid, basic mistake, um...when dividing two negative numbers, the answer is POSITIVE...DUH!

Once, just once, I'd like to get every blessed problem on a test right. Oh, well, perfection is highly overrated. I'll just keep telling myself that.

Bank of America, you suck!

Bank of America is made of fail.

I rarely use checks, but I make an exception for the rent. I finally got to my second-to-last book of checks, and it had that little notice on it, you know: "It's time to reorder your checks!" So I did. I made absolutely no changes to my order, everything should have been no problem, only when I got my new checks and did the "careful examination" they recommend, I noticed they'd misspelled my last name.
This is a common occurrence, since my last name has two capital letters (don't blame me, it's my married name!). I wouldn't make a fuss about it, but all my account info has the name spelled with both capitals, and that's how I sign my name, too.
So I called the phone number given to use in cases of errors, spent 15 minutes on hold, and then about five more explaining what the problem was. By the way, the same thing happened last time I ordered checks...
So, I was assured it was no problem, they'd make the correction and (gasp) wouldn't charge me for the new checks (they'd better not, I'd be seriously pissed if I had to pay twice for their fuck-up). The new checks came today. Of course, you've guessed it already...they made the same damn mistake!
How incompetent do you have to be to do that?
Screw dealing with the phone, I'm going to my bank branch tomorrow, and talking to the folks there face-to-face. They've always been very kind and helpful. And this time, THEY get to shred the messed-up checks.

On a completely different note...what's with the lack of comments lately? I'm aware that unlike moi, the rest of you actually have lives, but come on! Am I being shunned? Am I persona non grata? Don't you lurve me any more *sniff sniff*?

Ow x 2

First "ow" was at the dog park. I'd just arrived with my dogs, and was bent over hooking them up to their leash. Harley, the excitable, bounced with joy and smashed his rock-hard skull into the bottom of my chin. Unfortunately, I had the tip of my tongue between my teeth...OW!

Second "ow" was a good one. I can finally cross off "go see a chiropractor" from my to-do list, where it had been languishing for months. I work 40 hours a week as a massage therapist, and I get tired and lazy with my body mechanics...so my body is pretty fucked-up. I'm always in some level of pain, but by the end of the week my right shoulder especially will barely move when I wake up. So off to the chiropractor I went, for the first time ever. It was AWESOME! I'm going to give them a plug right here:

Tropicana West Chiropractic
6819 W. Tropicana Ave. Suite 100
Las Vegas, NV 89103

I was seen by both Dr. Leavitt and Dr. Senecal (who are brothers-in-law, btw), but Dr. Leavitt did the actual adjustments.

Oh my God! My back sounded like somebody was breaking uncooked spaghetti! I feel so, so much better now. He also worked on my neck, right shoulder (which has full range of motion now, thankyouverymuch), and both SI joints.
My body feels so light now, like I could float away.

I will be going back on Thursday, after that we'll see...

I also should really get a massage. Maybe if it's slow on Thursday, I can get a massage in while at work. That would be a great way to start my work-week.

Monday's Mini Memoir (he's lucky I wasn't sleeping yet)

Trashman caught me, I just wanted to check my blog for comments one more time before napping...


Here are the rules according to Trashman:

1. Write your own six word memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you want.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4. Tag at least five more blogs with links.
5. Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play....

---

1.I love chocolate, and it shows.
2. See my avatar...it's not a cow for nothing!
3. Done, see above.
4. Mauser*Girl, Breda, Phlegm Fatale, of course, Holly, and last but not least, BO Snagley, since he seems to be in a memeish mood anyway
5. Done.

Can I go to sleep now, please?

"Friday" Quickie...

Seeing as it's MY Friday (yay!), I'll just leave you with something quick.

I totally forgot about this, probably the kiss discombobulated me, but I massaged a tough-looking, muscle-bound man yesterday, and when I undraped his back, I saw he had a Calvin&Hobbes tattoo on his left shoulder! I thought that was so funny, I about gave myself a hernia trying not to laugh.

And as I was leaving today, I had to briefly cut through the casino to get to the time-clock, and I noticed a lady playing video poker wearing a black t-shirt with the following phrase in pink on the back:

Friends don't let friends take home ugly men.

*snort*

It's off to bed for me now, must take a nap, since I feel like I'm about to keel over. Later, I promised Silver I'd let her (TRY to) teach me how to play Super Smash Bros. Brawl. Pray for me.

Contrasts

I was kissed today. By a CLIENT. A man, with his wife standing right there. M., the attendant for the women's spa, was holding the door open for the missus and saw the whole thing. She said my face looked "frozen". I'm sure it did! To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I had held out my hand to shake my client's, and he did the one-armed hug thing and leaned in and kissed me right behind my ear. I'm glad I wash behind my ears. Just sayin'.


His wife's sang-froid showed her complete confidence in their relationship. They've been married for almost 26 years, and from what I saw during the massage session (they had a couple's massage), their marriage is going strong.

Her reaction was a marked contrast to that of a client I massaged yesterday. A beautiful, 25-year-old airman from Arizona, she asked for my opinion on a situation she found herself embroiled in. She asked me if I'd be pissed off if my boyfriend received a lap-dance from a stripper at a strip-joint. I told her honestly that, no, it really wouldn't bother me. This is Vegas, if he's at a strip club with a bunch of his buddies, that sort of thing happens. Plus, I'm lacking the jealousy gene. I just can't get my panties in a bunch about stuff like that. Life's too short!

She explained what had happened. Her boyfriend and a bunch of his friends got to Vegas a day before she could get away from work. He told her they were going to a strip club, and she told him it was okay with her. Then, according to the bf, one of his friends bought him the dance, so he felt obligated to go through with it, but felt horrible afterward (yeah, right!). He told her over the phone what had happened, full of remorse and babbling apologies, and she flipped out. Basically she broke up with him and was contemplating flying home early.

*sigh*

People (women) are weird. I don't get this; he apologized, what's the problem? It's not like he let the (potentially skanky and disease-ridden) stripper take him into a private room and give him a *ahem* more intimate pole dance.

I told her, "You know, why don't YOU do a little strip for him and give him a lap-dance?"

She replied, "Oh, no! I'm much too self-conscious. He's never even seen me naked."

There you go...WEIRD. You have a beautiful woman with a fantastic body (trust me, I know), and she's too modest or lacking in self confidence to even let her boyfriend see her naked.

All I can tell you is if I were 25 and had her body...I'd probably BE one of the dancers at the strip-club. And I'd be raking in the dough.

LOLZ

Im in ur websitez, creatin loldogs:


moar funny pictures



moar funny pictures

*drool*

I almost plowed into a row of parked vehicles yesterday, but it wasn't my fault! /whining

I have to drop my daughter off at school every morning, and since she has to be there before 7 AM, and I don't have to be at work until 8, I get to work super early. I usually pull into the employee parking lot around quarter after 7, right around shift-change for the security staff.

I don't know what's going on, but for some reason, a LOT of the security folk have been changing in the parking lot lately. I know they have a locker room, so what's the deal?

Anyhoo, yesterday morning, I was doing my typical "stalking-the-good-parking-space" thing, when I encountered a security guard standing by the open trunk of his car. He was wearing shorts and a wife beater, and was polishing his shoes.

Oh. My. God.

He was built. And how. I have no idea if I know him, since I wasn't exactly looking at his face, but as I was craning my neck to keep him in view, I almost ran into a bunch of parked cars. Luckily, I avoided the collision without the guy noticing. That would have been too, too embarrassing.

Didn't see him today. *sigh*

Two more reasons why I love my daughter.

First, she uses "mischievous" in everyday conversation...and pronounces it correctly!

And second, when 8-year-old neighborhood boys knock on our door and ask for the "Pokemon-Lady", she'll go outside with them and trade Pokemon cards.

I got lucky, I know.

Speaking of weird names...

Phlegm Fatale had an interesting post earlier this week about weird names.

I massaged a lady today who was named after one of the books of the Bible. And as if that wasn't strange enough, when I undraped her back, I noticed she had a tattoo in the prime "tramp stamp" location.
It said "Las Vegas".

Now, I don't know her story. Maybe she's hoped and dreamed all her life of coming to Vegas, maybe coming to Las Vegas is the pinnacle of her ambitions. But, come on! A TATTOO?!

I dream of moving to Denton, Texas in a few years, and you don't see me running out to Absolute Ink and getting it tattooed on my lower back, do ya? Now, a tasteful Lone Star flag on some portion of my anatomy...that's possible, I suppose. Or maybe the phrase "Don't Mess with Texas!".

Speaking of dreams, my daughter shared this gem with me yesterday. Apparently, nominations for Prom King and Queen are in the works. Her school's "tv station" ran the following ad: "Vote for Prom King and Queen, make someone's dream come true!"

Silver told me, "If becoming Prom King or Queen is your dream, you have serious priority issues!"

I gotta love that kid!

Four weeks.

Marko inspired me, and four weeks ago today, I quit drinking Diet Coke cold turkey.

Not only did I stop drinking Diet Coke, I also stopped eating fast food and going to 7-11. I did this for my health, to help me lose weight, and, of high importance, to save money. I never realized how much of my tip money I squandered on fast food and getting "breakfast" at the 7-ll on the way to work, until I saw it start piling up when I stopped patronizing those establishments.

So, thanks Marko, I really owe you one.

Oh, great.

I just got home and discovered I did all my grocery shopping while still wearing my name tag from work. I might as well have pinned a sign that said "DORK!" to my chest.

Take me away!

I've had many offers lately, from clients who wistfully ask if I'd come home with them.

I could go to Scotland (tempting, but brrrrrrrr!), Michigan, New Hampshire, various parts of Canada, or FLORIDA! Florida would also be very tempting, if it weren't for the humidity, bugs, and the occasional hurricane.

I wonder what would happen if I took a client up on his or her offer?

Maybe I'll play along next time, just to see my client back-pedal and try to explain he was only paying a compliment, not making a serious offer. I could have fun!

Hmmmmm.

Whew!

Spring break was over for me today, and of course we had to start class back up with a test. Thank goodness it's over! I was less prepared (I felt) going in to this one than the last, but I still think I did well.

I guess I'll see next Tuesday...

W00T!

Zomg!

I've actually reached 5000 visits since I hooked up to sitemeter!

Of course, I can subtract about 2500 of those as being moi, desperately checking to see if anyone has left a comment. You do know I'm a comment-whore, right?

I believe I might have mentioned it a time or two...

Anyway, thanks to all of you folks out there who stop by for a minute or two, just to see what I'm up to, and thanks to all you other folks out there googling "milky mamas", and "bjork sucks". You guys rock!

Overheard at work today...

What did the egg in the pot of boiling water say to the impatient Easter Bunny?

"You're gonna have to wait! It's gonna take me a while to get hard, I just got laid by a chick."

Happy Easter, everyone!

You. Must. Obey.

They are sending their mind-beams into my brain...compelling me to come to bed...must obey...zzzzzzzz...

Duhr!

I had a moment of utter humiliation today, and of course I have nothing better to do than share it with all of you.

The floor the spa is located on is also the location of a host of meeting and conference rooms, most of which are in use daily by various and sundry companies and organizations, all of whom think scheduling a conference in Las Vegas is a great idea.

Wish more of the attendees would get a massage, but I digress...

In order to provide food for these conferences, and also for the wedding chapel also located on our floor, the banquet and catering kitchens are up here, too.

One way for employees to leave the building without having to brave the smoky, too-heavily-populated casino, is to walk through the catering department and take the elevator down to the lower level, where one can exit by the loading docks and never see a slot machine.

Last Monday, I did just that, and stopped just through the door and looked around in shock. The whole place was totally empty. No shelves with pots and pans, no dishes or coffee urns, no people! (I later found out it was empty due to a routine visit from the exterminator.)

Tuesday and Wednesday were my days off, and today, as I was again making my way to the employee elevator, I ran into an employee I'd seen around before, who works for the banquets department. I said, "Hi!" Then I launched into an animated monologue about how creepy it had been a few days ago, like a Twilight Zone episode, with everyone gone and the whole place cleaned out...I babbled on and on, the poor guy a captive audience as we waited for the elevator. Finally, as I stopped to take a breath, he looked me in the eye and said/mouthed, "I can't hear you, I'm deaf."

Duhr.

I'm sorry, but something like this can only happen to me. I can feel myself blushing now as I type this. That's how embarrassed I was. And I had to ride down five floors in the elevator with him, too! At least he was nice about it, and I didn't even get a hint of a "YOU IDIOT!" tacked on to his sentence to me.

I think I've probably already reached my lifetime quota of embarrassing incidents. There's really nowhere to go from here but up! Maybe if I learn to keep my mouth shut...?

Oh, nose!

Why am I cursed?

Twice in the past two days I've been stuck in the left turn lane, in front of disgusting people. I don't go out of my way to stare at them, but they had me mesmerized, simply by their lack of couth.

Yesterday on my way home from work, I was waiting at a light and glanced in my rear-view mirror; to my horror, the man in the car behind me was picking his nose with his pinky, and flicking the boogers onto his dashboard. Gross!

Then, on my way to work this morning, again I was waiting to turn, and the gal behind me had to honk her horn when the light changed because I was too busy watching her pick her nose and EAT HER BOOGERS to pay attention to the signal.

Don't get me wrong, everyone picks his or her nose; yes, even I have been known to delve gently in my nostrils, but there is a time and a place, and such things as tissues and handkerchiefs, for God's sake!

Hopefully my commute will be booger-free tomorrow.

Spring Cleaning

I just had two glorious days off. My weekend, which should have been relaxing and restoring, enabling me to go back to work rested and energized.

NOT!

Instead, I spent most of yesterday shoveling out my daughter's room. No, I didn't take any pictures, it would have been too embarrassing. She's a total slob, a small failing I've been trying to combat since she's been mobile; considering how remarkable and wonderful she is in general, I think I'll take her slobbishness!

That took up all of Tuesday afternoon and evening. Today I spent six hours clearing out my walk-in closet. You see, my puppies are enamored of paper. They love shredding it and playing with it and eating it. Since I pay all of my bills on-line, I tend to be lazy when it comes to opening my mail. I obviously can't leave it sitting out, or the dogs would get it, so, since the infernal hounds haven't yet figured out how to turn door-knobs, I've been chucking the mail into my closet, along with anything else I didn't want them to destroy (which was quite a lot). Out of sight, out of mind...until now.



Almost all of the above, plus a lot of half-chewed decorative pillows, ended up below.

I think I must have emptied my shredder six times.



All that was left was this:



Which has now been filed away in the appropriate file-folders in the fire safe.

Whew.

Then Silver and I tackled her walk-in closet, which is much bigger than mine, but which thankfully wasn't as overflowing with stuff.

Our next project will be folding the huge Mount Everest of clean laundry that has been patiently waiting. We have no dressers, so...we NEED our closets!

But that's for tomorrow, I'm beat.

Fascinating.

My first client yesterday was a 45-year-old widow from London, England. Her much older Greek husband passed away 10 years ago, leaving her their "fancy dress" (i.e. costume) shop/business.
What was so interesting is that she's a Turkish immigrant to England, having lived there for the past 21 years.
I knew many Turkish people growing up, considering I lived in "Little Istanbul", the borough of Kreuzberg in Berlin, Germany.
We had a fascinating conversation ranging in topic from women's rights, sharia law, religion, socialized medicine, to how to relax, de-stress, and the necessity of drinking plenty of water.
The lady is a socialist and an atheist. In her words religion, especially Islam, is "stupid crap". I liked her. :)
Too bad she's working herself to death. She hasn't taken a day off in 10 years, has no hobbies, only spends the evenings watching tv and drinking with her sister. Her entire body was very tense, and she talked during the whole massage, incapable of relaxing, though she did appear a little less stressed by the end of the session. She also needs to lay off the coffee, seeing as how she drinks it morning to night.

*sigh*

She's probably going to be back tomorrow for another massage, and I look forward to seeing her again.

---

I also had a new experience yesterday: I massaged a father and a son. The son was my last client, and he was a talker...I told him up front, "You don't have to tell me anything about you, your Dad took care of that earlier!"

His reply, "Oh, great!"

Both of them were very nice and interesting conversationalists, but neither of them tipped me...hmmmm...wonder if tightfistedness is genetic?

---

My second to last client was my tallest yet, 6'7"! His feet dangled off the edge of the table...
He was from Sweden, so we chatted about my (brief) time in Sweden, back in the day (1987). I didn't tell him that I lost my virginity on that trip...a girl's got to keep some secrets, after all!

---

What I'm reading now: "Where the Heart Leads", by Stephanie Laurens...yes, Phlegmmy, it IS a romance novel (a historical one, with a mystery to boot, set in London in 1835). Hey, I like happy endings, so sue me! Next in my TBR* stack: "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman. Should be good.

Hope you folks are having a great weekend, I still have mine to look forward to (Tuesday/Wednesday).


*TBR=To Be Read

'Nother "Back Home"

I massaged a lady from Michigan today, and she regaled me with stories of her friend back home, who massages her monthly.

Not only is this friend a massage therapist, she's also an acupuncturist and physical therapist.

That upped the intimidation factor quite a bit.

Screw it, it was a Swedish massage, and she enjoyed it, dammit.

That'll teach me!

I got off work early today since we were slow this afternoon, which suits me fine, seeing as I have homework (that I really should be doing NOW, as opposed to blogging!) I found my car on the employee parking lot, hopped in and removed and folded up the sunshade (a true necessity in Vegas). Then, as I turned back toward the wind shield after stashing the shade, I yelped in surprise and horror: There was the biggest, most disgusting pile of bird poop on my windshield I've ever seen in my life. I said "pile" and I meant it. The sucker was as big as my hand, and I have big frickin' hands! My door was still open, and another employee was headed for his car and I shouted out to him, "What the hell kind of bird leaves a poop this big?" He laughed and replied, while looking up at the sky, "I don't know, but I sure hope it's gone!"

That'll teach me to never park under the light. Stupid bird.

Focus

While I walk clients to the treatment room, I quiz them about their health history, how they're doing today, any surgeries or injuries, etc. Then I ask them the question that makes me cringe inwardly in anticipation:

"Any areas you'd like me to focus on today?"

So far, not a single client has gone to the gutter to find an answer to this question, luckily.

The other day however, the following conversation took place (the client was scheduled for a 50-minute deep tissue massage):

Me: Any areas you'd like me to focus on today?

Him: Well, I always need more work on my back, and my neck and shoulders hurt from the flight here and the crappy bed they gave me. And my feet and legs are sore from walking the convention so much. Oh, and please focus also on my forearms, I went golfing yesterday and I think I overdid it!

Me: *blink blink* So, basically your entire body?

Him: (sheepishly) Yeah, pretty much!

Me: Well, we've only got 50 minutes, but I'll do my best!

And I did.

Okay, now somebody tell me what it means, 'cause I don't have a clue!

I am a: Glock Model 22 in 40 cal

What kind of handgun are YOU?

I know nothing about guns (yet!). I qualified on the M16 in Basic Training back in 1989, that's it.

Harder!

It never ceases to amaze me how much punishment the smallest, skinniest people can take.

If I can feel your ribs creak when I'm doing a deep forearm or elbow stroke up your back, you don't need deeper pressure!

Also, hot stone massage is for relaxation, just the fact that they're radiating heat is therapeutic, the heat penetrates deep into the tissues.

You don't need me to apply deep pressure with the rocks, they can actually chip bone.

Go visit a swami and learn how to walk on coals or lie on a bed of nails, and stop bothering me.

But thanks for the tip, I appreciate it.

Skin assessment

One aspect of massage therapy I don't believe I've touched on (hah! Pun unintended.) is skin assessment. It's the job of the therapist to assess the skin of our clients, and notify them of anything suspicious. Also, it protects US, since we have the right to say, sorry, this rash looks suspicious, I'm going to have to break the massage off (or get gloves, whichever seems best in the situation).
I had a client for a sports massage a few days ago who had a fairly large lesion on his back that he wasn't even aware of. It had an irregular border and sort of a crusty scab-like thing on top. It didn't cause him pain when I touched it, probably the reason he was unaware of it. What made me wonder is that he mentioned he was in Vegas with his wife. Why the heck hadn't she said something to him about it? Anyway, I recommended he see a doctor about it, and reminded him again at the end of the session. Pretty much all I can do.

This actually happens pretty regularly. A lot of my clients are older, and most have some kind of sun damage to their skin. Thankfully awareness is high. Almost every time I point out a suspicious mole, the client is already aware of it, or say they've had it checked out. In one case recently, the client already had a date for removal scheduled. Whew, that's really a relief to me!

If I had a private practice, it would be a little different. I'd keep charts/files on all my clients, and document, document, document (a.k.a. CYA). It would also be a lot easier to keep track of things like changes in moles, etc. if I had regular clients. With the client's permission, I could periodically take photos with a ruler or other measure, then I'd have something to pass on to the client's physician, if necessary.

All part of the job.

Never

I will never have a man in my life. I might find one, but never keep one.

Once he hears me talking to my dogs, the dorkiness of which makes ME cringe in horror, he'll hightail it to the hills before I can finish saying, "Ohhhhh, my precious puppehs! Hi, my sweet puppehs!"

*sigh*

Meh

I don't care what the clock says. 4:30 is way too early to be awake.

Unless it's PM.

Comment card

Here's the comment card from the dude I massaged yesterday...so, he loses a point for the "Christine"...though I get it all the time.

This one's for Breda

I brazenly took this photo this evening, as I stopped by our library on my way home from work:



I wonder if this applies to old ladies who wear much too much perfume...?

Clients

Yesterday, I massaged a very, very large lady who laughed uncontrollably during most of the massage. Thankfully, she warned me about it, or I might have been even more unnerved than I was. It was very infectious laughter to boot!

She told me afterwards that she'd be coming back in two months with a friend; then she took my card. I love repeat clients!

---

My last client today was a very handsome young man who had booked a 90 minute deep tissue massage. He told me upfront he liked a lot of pressure, that he was a bodybuilder and received massage regularly.

I really gave it my all during this massage, I used all my tools (elbows, loose fists, knuckles, etc.) to make sure he got his money's worth. I told him at the beginning not to be macho, to tell me if it was ever too much pressure, but still monitored him closely for any signs I was going too deep. I was working on his lower back and noticed his fingers were twitching. I at first assumed I needed to ease up a little, then I heard a noise...he was SNORING!!

Here I was working my ass off, and he was sleeping.

When we were finished and I handed him his water outside of the treatment room, he shook my hand and said, "Christina, you're obviously a professional. I've had many massages, but that was by far the best deep tissue massage I've ever had."

Inside my head I was squeeing, but also thinking, "How do you KNOW, you were sleeping most of the time!" Then again, maybe that's his measure.

He took several business cards (He's visiting with NINE friends), and he also filled out a comment card at the front desk. AND he tipped me $40.00.

The trifecta of awesome.

---

Apropos of nothing, I'm making progress in NOT cussing people out when on the road, yay, me!

Almost forgot...

On Monday when I clocked in at work, the TIME CLOCK wished me a happy birthday, how bizarre and cool is that?!

Well, maybe only to me...

Back Home

There's no phrase I dread hearing more from a client.

As in: "Back home, my therapist does x-y-z."

"Back home, my gal (yes, he said GAL) puts eucalyptus oil on a tissue and lays it over the bridge of my nose, clears my sinuses right up."

"Back home, my masseuse digs right in with her elbows."

"Back home, my massage only costs half what I paid here!"

Okay, enough already!

I understand that you are used to a certain kind of massage, that you are used to a specific therapist, and a (usually) much lower price. BUT, you're NOT BACK HOME, are you?! This is the Las Vegas Strip, where everything is more expensive, and just because you paid more doesn't mean I'm going to do a fan dance with a bunch of feathers, or escort you to the treatment room walking on my hands.

And it would be really nice if you gave me the courtesy of a chance, at least, to show you what I can do. Without being hampered by your expectations.


Thank you, that is all.

Have any "Man" questions?

Well, you've (definitely) come to the wrong spot.

These two gentlemen, however, can answer all your many, manLy questions.

Go. E-mail. Read the answers. Be amused.

Happy Birthday, Harley!

It's my little puppeh's turn today! He's exactly three weeks younger than Tucker, but much, much feistier. Here are some (slightly blurry) pics of him gnawing on his birthday apple.





After a few minutes of this, I took pity on him and cut the apple up. I split it between both dogs, just like I split up Tucker's hamburger on his birthday.

Share and share alike in the motto in my house!

Disconnect

I realized something as I drove to school this evening. I don't have road rage per se, because I'm not really aware of what I'm saying. There's a disconnect between what's going on in my brain and what comes out of my mouth. It's like my mouth is on auto-pilot.

I was stuck behind two cars at a light that had just turned green, and I guess they were too slow for me (I was running a little late).

They finally moved, and as I started forward, I heard the echo of the words I had just said:

"C'mon motherfuckers...I mean...Jesus Christ!"

No wonder my daughter can swear like a sailor denied shore leave.
She learned it (inadvertently) from me!

How do I change this behavior, when most of the time I'm not even aware of it? I shudder to think of giving someone a ride in my car, they'll have a whole new (most likely unfavorable) impression of me.

Any suggestions?

*sigh*

I really, really admire all this man has accomplished in his career(s). All the medals and accolades are certainly impressive. He served his country with honor and distinction, and thousands of soldiers looked up to him and were inspired.

But as a father and grandfather, well, let's just say there's definitely room for improvement. And that's putting it very diplomatically.

Thanks for forgetting my birthday AGAIN, Dad.

---

*UPDATE*
My Dad e-mailed me this morning to wish me a Happy Birthday. He thinks my birthday is March 5th. 03/03/70. You'd think THREE-THREE would be easy to remember. Oh, well, I guess it's the thought that counts.

Woo-hoo!

I got my algebra test back, you know, the one I took last Tuesday...

I got 109 out of a possible score of 110! My prof wrote "very good" at the top of my test, squeeeeeeee!

The only point I got taken off was because on one problem I didn't simplify "2x divided by 6" into "1/3x".

Oh, well. Who cares? I GOT AN A.

Here's to hoping I can continue in this fashion.

Job Satisfaction

I know I bitch about stingy tips, complain when business is slow, etc., etc.

However, the reason I went into massage therapy still guides me: I want to help people and make them feel better.

Whenever I can alleviate a client's pain, when a client exits the treatment room beaming, saying he feels fantastic, like a million bucks, outstanding, any monetary considerations are immaterial.

I massaged an elderly lady last week who'd had rotator cuff surgery a few months ago. She was in a lot of pain, and still didn't have full range of motion of that arm. Even though she was booked for a Swedish massage, NOT a deep tissue, I still went ahead and did deep/injury work on her arm and shoulder. She told me, "You don't know how good this feels. Bless your hands! You better take care of those hands, they're gonna help a lot of people!"

I felt such a burst of joy when she said that, it was like an explosion of sunshine in my chest. I had to hold back tears.

She went on to have a facial after our session, and I ran into her later while I was between other services as she was getting dressed to leave; she smiled at me and told me again how good I'd made her feel.

That evening, as I collected my tips from the tip-box, I saw she'd left myself and the aesthetician who had done her facial $2.00 each. As my colleague groused, I just smiled and walked away.

Cool Tattoos

I massaged a client a few days ago who had tattoos that made me laugh out loud. Which, by the way, is completely unprofessional, but the client was very understanding.

He had a tattoo of HIMSELF on each shoulder, one as an angel in a contemplative pose, and one as a devil looking angry with a fist raised. He pointed out to me that the devil was slightly smaller than the angel, indicating that his conscience was stronger than his "evil" side.

Clever.

Honestly, unless the client mentions them, I make no comments during the massage about any tattoos or other body art, this just took me by surprise!

Another year older...

but any wiser? Don't know.

So today I'm officially two years away from the big 4-0.

But I'm only getting better.

FIVE years ago I had an amusing birthday. Why? Because I was born on 3/3/70; it means that on 3/3/03, a.k.a. the third day of the third month of the third year of the third millennium I turned thirty three!
Everyone I worked with at that time told me to head over to California and buy some lottery tickets, or to go to a local casino and play the big slots. I said no.

'Cause it doesn't really mean anything, seeing as our calendar is pretty arbitrary.

Shake up

I haven't posted about this, since I almost felt I'd jinx myself if I mentioned it.

For the past two weeks or so, I've had the sword of Damocles dangling above my head, ready to slice and dice at any time without warning. There had been (confirmed) rumors going around about layoffs, company-wide. As the therapist with the least seniority, I thought I'd better get my resume ready, I was going to be out of a job. Anytime my boss called me into the office, I braced myself, ready to hear the unwelcome news, telling myself to get through it with dignity, and without tears.

Yesterday the layoffs happened, but I dodged the bullet. Apparently HR went by performance reports, evaluations, and disciplinary actions (or rather, the lack thereof), instead of relying merely on seniority. As a result, J.A., the therapist who'd been there the longest (13 years!), and my friend K. were let go.

I was very upset on K.'s behalf, but on the other hand, I'm human. I definitely am not getting any enjoyment from her pain, as a matter of fact, the only time I've ever felt Schadenfreude that in any way was appropriate was when I found out my ex-husband's new wife had gone from a size 2 to a size 12 since they married...but I digress.

Of COURSE I am relieved that I didn't get the axe. I'm the sole provider for my little family, and I struggle enough on what I make to get by. Even though I didn't know for sure it was going to be me who got tossed out, I've still been obsessing about it constantly, worrying and fretting non-stop.

Thankfully, that's over with now. However, my schedule at work has changed and I'm working Thursdays-Mondays now, so Silver will have to get used to not seeing me on the weekends very much. I'm just happy to still have a job to go to, so I'm certainly not complaining about my new hours!

I'm so glad I have this blog, it forces me to clarify my thoughts and emotions; any readers out there...I'm very thankful for you, too.

noteworthy plates II

Seen on my drive home this evening:

YUPYUP

and

QTEEPIE

Also seen on the road to school yesterday, an SUV in the middle of the street, surrounded by SIX police cars with lights flashing.

Wonder what was up?

Crazy Impulse

Have you ever had a crazy, impulsive thought cross your mind? One that if implemented would get you in a world of trouble?

I had one of those today, out of the blue.

There are a lot of meeting/conference rooms located on the same floor as the spa, and we had a staff meeting scheduled in one of them this afternoon. A lady who is hawking a new skin care line was to give a demonstration/training class, and she had a boatload of products that needed to be carted to the room, so of course I volunteered to help (I'm SUCH a brown-noser!)

I think I made three trips all together, and had to pass a room where some company was having a conference. Coincidentally, they were taking a break, and two gentlemen were in the hallway chatting. The one guy wasn't even a blip on my radar, as I was mesmerized by his friend. He was a really big dude (just how I like 'em!), and had a very deep voice. He also had an eclair in one hand and was noshing on it as they spoke. By my third trip he had finished his snack, but apparently got some of the eclair filling on his thumb, and he paused to lick it off as I walked by...

I had an insane, almost overpowering urge to grab his hand and say, "Hey, let ME take care of that for you!" I really, really wanted to. But of course I just kept on going, since I also really, really need to keep my job.

*sigh*

Well, that wasn't so bad.

I'm home and I survived.

*whew*

Except for having sweaty palms the entire time, I suffered no anxiety or "block" during the test. I'm happy it's over, though.

I think I only messed up one problem, which still leaves me with an "A" if I got all the others correct. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Feeling a little queasy.

In about an hour, I'm off to algebra class where I will be taking my first test.

*GULP*

I know the material, I'm just a leetle nervous, since the last time I had math (way back in the eighties), I suffered from severe test anxiety and always bombed my exams.

I believe I'm over it, but a slight fear remains. Well, I guess I'll see, won't I?

---

In other (massage) news, I had my first client with a full-on, noticeable pup-tent pitched. What made it awkward (for me, at least) was the fact that his wife was receiving a massage less than six feet away.

My client was mostly asleep, so I don't think he realized it (I hope), and wifey had her eyes closed (thank God!).

My colleague J.A., who was massaging her, didn't notice, but he asked me afterwards why I had been staring at him during the head/neck massage!

LOL!

Duh, I didn't want to look straight ahead and see the "tent", so I had my head turned away!

---

Today I had the idea of plastic surgery made vividly unappetizing to me, in a very tangible fashion.

I massaged a lady who resembled Frankenstein's monster, at least when she was unclothed.

You know how they display those diagrams in the meat department of grocery stores, the ones that show a cow in profile with the cuts of meat delineated by dotted lines?

That's what my client looked like when I undraped her. Faded and new surgical scars outlining her butt-cheeks, encircling her body just below her waist, streaking down her thighs...ugh!

And her glutes just didn't feel normal to me, either. They felt hard, plastic, and it wasn't the skin. I don't think she had butt implants, I think they did a lift where they shortened the gluteal muscles themselves.

Hey, whatever floats her boat, I guess. But you won't see ME going under the scalpel, that's for sure!

Get your minds out of the gutter.

Right before my alarm clock rang this morning, I dreamt Phlegm Fatale asked me to marry her.

I asked, "What about your husband?"

She replied, "Oh, he won't mind!"

:)

Just a friendly little tip...

If you ever visit "Star Trek - The Experience" at the Las Vegas Hilton, be sure to go on the rides BEFORE you eat, not after.

Trust me.

You'll thank me later.

Since all the IMPORTANT folks are doing it...

But what does it MEAN?!

I really hope it's meant to be funny...

I saw a sign in the window of a local sushi joint. It said:


"We sell fresh dead fish!"


I did a double take, then kept on walking.

So sad.

The tip gods have not been smiling on me. Perhaps I have offended? Maybe I should burn more dollar bills on my altar?

Who knows, but I hope things improve. Here's an example of tip crappiness. I brought in $385 on Saturday (I get 25%), but I only made $20 all day in tips. I didn't find out until today, since B., who has the key to the tip-box, was on vacation on Saturday.

One person stiffed me, one person left me 10 dollars, and two others left me five.

*sigh*

On a more cheerful note, Silver, who is all growed-up and everything with a debit card now, actually whipped it out on Friday and paid for our dinner at Applebee's!

I made our waiter laugh with my reaction. It involved lots of hooting, cheering, and I believe even some arm-waving and fist-pumping.

I took care of the tip. (Tip karma, see?) It was a very generous one, natch, since our server was excellent.

---

Completely unrelated, but nevertheless amusing...

I thought something like this was an isolated incident of idiocy...WRONG!

I was on the phone with a lady who runs a business teaching CPR (I need to re-certify), and I just wanted to confirm the location.

Me: It's on the South-East corner of Spring Valley and Polaris, right?

Her: Well, that depends whether you're coming from the 15 or the West side of town.

Me: *mother-bleepin' idiots, when are they going to learn...what do they teach in school these days?!?!* Um, okay...

Her: If you're coming from the 15, it's on the left, if you're coming from the West side of town, it'll be on your right.

Me: *Isn't that what I just SAID?!* Okay, thanks.

Tsk, tsk EDIT: Happy Freakin' Valentine's Day!

I cut class tonight. Bad Christina, no cookie!

What the hell, I'm exhausted. We were so slammed at the spa today, we were actually overbooked and had to improvise a second side-by-side massage room in the men's spa!
(The two treatment rooms on the men's side are much larger than the ones on the women's side, don't ask me why.)

Except for my lunch break and a thirty minute window at one point this morning, I was booked back-to-back, which is why MY back hurts now and why I need a massage, myself!

But, and it's a BIG but, of course I'm thrilled that I had so much work, since I get a commission for every service I provide. So it's all money in the bank.

I decided to give myself one get-out-of-class-free card per semester. I consider it a mental health break.

So, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go soak in the tub...I deserve it!

---

EDIT
This shows just how pooped I am...I forgot to wish everyone a Happy Valentine's Day!
That's why we were so busy today, duh...

You know the drill...

I'm a finalist again (yippeee) in Sparrow's weekly Haiku Contest!

So, I'm blegging here, please go to All Atwitter and vote for ME!

Unless your best friend is also a finalist, in that case...vote your conscience.

Thank you, guys!

Happy Birthday, Tucker!

A year ago today, my puppy was born.

Around April, I started looking for puppies, I did my research, found the breeder I wanted, and checked out the available pups on-line, and came across this picture...



And fell in love. The rest, as they say, is history!

For his birthday, he got his very first McDonald's hamburger, without the bun!



I tried to get his picture with the cute Valentine's Day antennae I got him, but he never stood still long enough for me to manage it, so here are two other shots from today.





Anyone who lives with dogs knows exactly how I feel about my pups, so I'm not going to blather on about how much they mean to me. I'll just say that I can't imagine life without them, and leave it at that.

---

EDIT
In case anyone is wondering, my dogs are Italian Greyhounds (you know, the little ones, not the Greyhounds that chase the electric bunny on the race track!)
Tucker is a bruiser (for his breed) and tops out at 18 pounds, Harley is average at around 13 pounds.

Hey, Moron!

I was driving home from class an hour or so ago, and the last block before home I was following a black sportscar, driving with no lights.

Let me repeat that: BLACK sportscar, driving with NO LIGHTS.

At nine o'clock at night.

I flashed this maroon several times, but he just didn't get it. Thankfully he turned into the apartment complex before mine, so at least I know he doesn't live in too close a proximity.

You ever feel like you're surrounded by idiots?

Yes, that was a rhetorical question.

:)

David questions, I answer

David over at Authorblog wants to know if any of my family members read my blog.

Well, my oldest daughter does, but usually only when I point a particular blog post out (she has her own interests, plus I usually tell her about the stuff I end up blogging about, or she was right there when it happened, so it would be boring for her).

And my big brother, who lives in North Carolina (hi, Grosser Bruder!), will occasionally stop by, but it's certainly not a regular thing.

And that's it!

Overheard at the dog park...

"Romeo, get off him!"

Yelled at a pug who was frantically humping a (male) Pomeranian.

My dream crushed again...

I was leaving class Thursday night, and I passed right by a bulletin board filled with notices, ads for cheap text books, roommate wanted signs, etc.

One notice stood out. It was a "Musicians Wanted" ad about a new heavy metal band. The music was already written, now they just needed the actual musicians and a lead singer.

As I'm reading down the list of their requirements, I'm already building fantasies in my head. I see myself on-stage, screaming out the lyrics to a writhing mass of fans, head-banging with the rest of the band, wearing spandex and torn denim. And leather, can't forget the leather.

Then I get to the very bottom of the page. "Age requirement: 24 years or younger"

Ageist bastards.

I feel old

J.A. and I were massaging a married couple in the side-by-side room yesterday. Very nice folks, I'd estimate them to be in their mid-to-late twenties, so not too much younger than me (hey! no snickers from the peanut gallery!).

I was massaging hubby, and it was his first time (gotta love the newbies). He was a very big man, in great shape, with a high-and-tight that screamed "military".

Now to (finally) get to the point. To any question I asked this man, I received a reply with a "ma'am" tacked on.

"Are you comfortable?" "Yes, Ma'am!" "How's the pressure?" "Fine, Ma'am!" "Jake, I'm going to hold the sheet now and I'd like you to turn over, okay?" "Yes, Ma'am!"

The. Whole. Time.

After the massage, I just had to ask him, "Jake, are you in the military?"

"No, Ma'am!"

Meme

Phlegm Fatale over at Fatale Abstraction has tapped me to produce answers to this bookish meme. I'm game, so here we go!

Which book do you irrationally cringe away from reading, despite seeing only positive reviews?

"The DaVinci Code" has never, ever tempted me, and some people I know, who shall remain nameless, are, shall we say, passionate about this book...
Same goes for "Message in a Bottle", "Bridges of Madison County", etc., etc.

If you could bring three characters to life for a social event (afternoon tea, a night of clubbing, perhaps a world cruise), who would they be and what would the event be?

Harry Dresden from Jim Butcher's "Dresden Files", Juan Rico from Robert A. Heinlein's "Starship Troopers", and Sophy from Georgette Heyer's "The Grand Sophy".
I'd just like to invite them over to my house for dinner and a confab, 'cause I'd want to hear, in person, all about their adventures. Then Johnnie and Sophy could leave, and I'd proceed to bang Harry Dresden like a drum. Hey, it's okay to fantasize about fictional charaters, at least in MY reality it is.

You are told you can't die until you read the most boring novel on the planet. While this immortality is great for awhile, eventually you realise it's past time to die. Which book would you expect to get you a nice grave?

This one is easy. I was a rather strange child. I felt compelled to finish every book I started, no matter how awful or boring it was. One book foiled every reading attempt, and I'll never forget it..."Algonquin, the Story of a Great Dog", by Dion Henderson. THE most boring book in the universe.

Come on, we've all been there. Which book have you pretended, or at least hinted, that you've read, when in fact you've been nowhere near it?

Beowulf. I even owned a copy for quite a while, until I decided my life would be well lived without pretension, and removed the book from my shelf.

As an addition to the last question, has there been a book that you really thought you had read, only to realise when you read a review about it/go to 'reread' it that you haven't? Which book?

Nope, but I've bought the same book on different occasions, in different locations, simply because it had been a while since I read it originally, and had forgotten all about it.

You've been appointed Book Advisor to a VIP (who's not a big reader). What's the first book you'd recommend and why? (if you feel like you'd have to know the person, go ahead of personalise the VIP.

Depending on the kind of person the VIP is, either something by Heyer, she is the most witty author; something by Heinlein, if I think the VIP can handle him; or "The Three Musketeers", since it's a classic (in case the VIP is snobbish), and a rip-snorting adventure.

A good fairy comes and grants you one wish: you will have perfect reading comprehension in the foreign language of your choice. Which language do you go with?

Ancient Greek. I'd love to read all the classics in the original!

A mischievous fairy comes and says that you must choose one book that you will reread once a year for the rest of your life (you can read other books as well). Which book would you pick?

"I Dare", by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller. Gotta love the Liaden Universe! I pretty much re-read the entire series every year, anyway.

I know that the book blogging community, and its various challenges, have pushed my reading borders. What's one bookish thing you 'discovered' from book blogging (maybe a new genre, or author, or new appreciation for cover art-anything)?

Author Charlaine Harris's "Book and Blog" feature on her website led me to discover Jim Butcher's work. What a find! So many hours of reading pleasure...

That good fairy is back for one final visit. Now, she's granting you your dream library! Describe it. Is everything leatherbound? Is it full of first edition hardcovers? Pristine trade paperbacks? Perhaps a few favourite authors have inscribed their works? Go ahead-let your imagination run free.

My dream library is a large home I live in that has books in every room. Comfy chairs and couches, good reading lamps, and lots and lots and lots of reading material and shelves everywhere. Since the good fairy is handling this, she'll make it possible for me to purchase any book I want, any time. Ah, nirvana...

That's it for me, but I'll tag a few fellow bloggers, who should in no way feel obligated to complete this meme...

Mauser*Girl
Fat Hairy Bastard
Sonja
Zelda
FarmGirl

Have at it, Folks!
(and to go along with Phlegmmy, anyone in my blogroll is more than welcome to do this one, too!)

Embarrassment at the EDR*, and Karma

*Employee Dining Room

A. and I were getting ready to eat lunch today when I humiliated myself quite thoroughly.

The dining room was packed, so I snagged a table by placing my tray on it before heading over to get a drink. A. was at the salad bar, and I was facing that way with the drink station to my left and the tables to the right. I said, "A., we're over there...", while swinging my right arm up and around to point to our table...

Yup, you guessed it. Somebody was walking right past me. It was a housekeeper (i.e. maid), and I nailed the cup of water on her lunch tray, splashing the whole thing right into her face, down the front of her uniform, and all over the floor. I wanted to die right there. But I apologized instead, even though I don't think she understood most of my babble, and helped clean up the mess. Thankfully it wasn't hot coffee, soda, or orange juice. That really would have been worse, and it was bad enough as it is.

A few minutes later karma came into play. (At least, that's what A. thinks!)

I like putting a crapload of Tabasco sauce on the fried chicken I get. It makes the EDR chicken more palatable. I guess there's Tabasco residue on the cap and the outside of the bottle, because when I rubbed my eye with my left pointer finger...YOWCH!

"Master, it burns....!"

It took the rest of my lunch hour for the burning to completely subside.

Serves me right. I obviously have to be more careful in the dining room!

Positives and Negatives.

As anyone who works in the service industries knows, you can't make everyone happy all the time. I know it's impossible, yet I always try anyway. Some people you just can't please, and, let's face it, not everyone is going to like my massage. I've learned to be philosophical about it.

Here are two examples of comment cards that clients left at the front desk.
I covered the contact information, of course.



In case you can't read it, the lady wrote: "Stress relief massage from Christina was just mediocre. She is very pokey with her fingers. But I did feel very relaxed upon completion."

I like constructive criticism, but I don't quite know what to make of being "pokey with" my fingers! Hey, and the lady was very relaxed at the end! That's better than a fork in the eyeball, right? A stress relief massage at our spa is a 25 minute shoulder, neck, and back massage, by the way.

The following lady had quite a different experience, she had a 50 minute, full body Swedish massage:



She said, if you can't make it out: "Christina was out of this world, unique and awesome Rub The Best! and quiet"

I guess the fact that I didn't babble during the massage made her happy. :)

I do recall that she told me twice that I had outstanding technique!

To me, the trick is to take something from both positive AND negative feedback, but especially not to let any negative comments get me down.

And to not take them personally, since everyone has a right to their opinion.

Worst. Music. EVER.

I've mentioned before that at the spa, we have the privilege of listening to a cable company's idea of "spa mood music", or whatever-the-hell they call it.
Most of the time it's really just background noise, most of the pieces are so familar to us by now, we really don't pay attention anymore.

Unfortunately, there is one POS in the rotation that I've been cursed to hear three times when I was right in the middle of services.

I can't even tell you what it's supposed to be. Is is from some obscure movie, and I don't get the reference? Is it a performance art piece? Who knows, but I sure wish the cable radio folks would pull their heads out of their asses and yank this "song".

Imagine this: You hear some kind of chords being played softly, perhaps by strings, perhaps by woodwinds. You erroneously think, "Well, this isn't so bad."

Not so fast, Cupcake!

Suddenly a deep-voiced man starts talking. Not singing, talking. And not rap, either. And it's in some kind of language you don't understand, but it sorta sounds like Russian. In addition, not only do you have to suffer through his monologue, but you have to listen to his breathing and SWALLOWING sounds, too. I guess he had a really, really good microphone.

Wait! What was that whooshing sound? It was your massage therapist lunging at warp speed for the volume control knob to turn that shit off.

Shamelessly Stolen

from Zelda

In 1970 (the year you were born)

Richard Nixon is president of the US A federal jury finds the "Chicago 7" innocent of conspiring to incite riots during the 1968 Democratic National Convention The lunar spacecraft Apollo 13 splashes down in the Pacific after near catastrophe The first Earth Day is marked by millions of Americans participating in anti-pollution demonstrations At Kent State University, National Guardsmen fire into a crowd killing four student antiwar demonstrators A powerful earthquake claims 50,000 lives in Peru 18 year olds are given the right to vote in federal elections Tidal wave driven by cyclone from Bay of Bengal hits East Pakistan, killing hundreds of thousands An anti-war rally is held at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, attended by John Kerry, Jane Fonda and Donald Sutherland Queen Latifah, Mariah Carey, Andre Agassi, Uma Thurman, Jennifer Lopez, and Matt Damon are born Baltimore Orioles win the World Series Kansas City Chiefs win Superbowl IV Boston Bruins win the Stanley Cup Tearjerker Love Story is the top grossing film I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou is published "The Long and Winding Road" becomes the Beatles' last Number 1 song

What Happened the Year You Were Born?

Because I'm tired and honestly don't feel like fleshing out any of the blog post ideas I have jotted down...maybe tomorrow!

I love college.

Why?

About an hour or so into class tonight, the Prof said, "Well, that's my lecture. If you have any questions, please stay. If you don't, you may go."

I was outta there so fast, I trampled a few of my classmates on the way.

That's okay, they'll recover.

---

Two amusing vanity plates seen today:

MMMMWAH

and:

UID10T

LOL

My first service of the day was a 50 minute hot stone massage bright and early at 8:00 AM. The client had never had a hot stone massage before, so I asked her about sensitivity to heat and whether she had any artificial joints. I asked because, believe it or not, the stones are so hot they have been known to melt some of the components of artificial joints...

Client: Nope, don't have any artificial joints.

Me: That's good, because the hot stones could melt them.

C: *gasp* Will they melt my breast implants?!!

Me: *blink blink* Don't worry...I won't be going anywhere near your breasts!

C: *heaves huge sigh of relief*

Cloverfield

Silver and I saw "Cloverfield" last night, and I'm happy to report I didn't get motion sickness. Yay, me.

FWIW, the movie kicks ass, and there're even some funny bits, which I wasn't expecting.

No spoilers here, so I'll just say that if you like that kind of movie, you'll probably enjoy "Cloverfield".