Tuesday, January 19, 2010

rub my ass

Your first massage therapy session is probably a daunting session, you come in and meet a complete stranger and come to the realization that this stranger is about to fondle your naked body in a room...just the 2 of you!
Butterflies, their wings fluttering within your tummy. You feel the wings slapping away while you try to make up your mind if emancipation of body from clothing is really what you are ready for!

Most of us have trust issues and women in particular have issues with body image and acceptance. Do YOU have the courage to just get naked? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6KFV9_pM2c0

In order to have a massage you actually have to take off your clothing, or as much as you are comfortable with removing to get to all of the spots that need soothing.
If your back aches, it only seems smart to remove your shirt.
If your legs hurt, it seems simple that your pants would come off
If everything screams in agony well then ...you will be stripped out of your skivvies and find yourself sliding under the soothing cotton sheets and waiting for the gentle hands to administer their healing hands...

The healing hands of a complete stranger!

Our bodies are our temples they say, and we are taught to cherish them and to never hand the keys to 'just anybody' let alone expose ourselves to strangers nor be so wanton as to let someone manhandle our flesh so intimately without having a relationship.
A relationship you say?

Yet, when we say to someone that we are getting a massage ...doesn't everyone just OOOHHH and AHHHHH in absolute jealousy?

How often do you hear, "OMG I wish I was getting that" or even mutterings of, "that bitch I can't believe she can afford that" and "she can't pay so-and-so bill but she can go and get a massage and her nails done?"
The finer things in life are often niceties such as manicures, pedicures, massages, maids, yard workers or an Au Pair for the little ones but let's look at this seriously.

What do we work for? What other reason other than to live and breath? Why should we only work to pay the bills and live hand to mouth; to simply exist and to never experience comfort and joy?
Every joy doesn't necessarily have to be epicurean nor do you have to live as a spartan, a world devoid of the sparkle and bling that we crave.

Treat yourself to things that make you happy and if it's extravagant, then so be it because we have only one life we are given so LIVE IT!

Live it naked as often as possible.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Knisper! Knasper! Knusper!

I started writing that last little story to go on about something funny that happened on our trip and it never ended up getting written. I bet my readers are wondering what happened, all you got was a big fat dose of pensiveness.
When I put my fingers to the keys I have an idea of where my story will go but just like my conversations, I can often get off on a tangent and WATCH OUT I will ramble and get so off course you'll never know what the original discussion was ever about.
I epitomize the word 'manic' most of the time but what would the world be without high-strung people like me? well, at least in my eyes...boring.

So what's new you say? There's always something new and not so exciting going on in my life.
The trip to get the treadmill has resulted in massive injury to my back. (I) Didn't whine about it in the last blog because I was still creaming my jeans over the truck. Around midday Tuesday following the trip I was horizontal and in tears.
The night we were unloading the treadmill, which is a behemoth, I took a wrong step while trying to grip the base and I felt something make an earth shattering pop.

Something detonated in my lower back!

Naturally I'm pretty hard headed and didn't want to seek medical attention because I figured that bed rest wouldl be plenty. Iit's ironic that the trip was to get me off of the bed and back into my exercise regime.

When Wednesday rolled around, which is now only slightly blurry to me (6 days ago), I awoke with my face wet, tears still upon my cheeks and my nose snorky from snot. We all know how that is, when you've wept for so long that you can't staunch the flow of moisture coming out of your facial orifices.

That day the husband had slept in late for work and I drove him to work, I can't even remember the reasoning for me to keep the car in the middle of the week let alone when I'm so miserable I wouldn't want to do any chores and errands but who cares about this right now...what matters is that while I'm driving him there with my very adorable Armani sunglasses covering my face I continue to cry silently.

This is probably a little known fact about me, I don't like to cry in public or even around people that know me and if I DO cry you oftentimes would never know it without looking right at me to witness tears. I can do it silently and keep the chest upheavals to a minimum.

I try to minimize my sniffles and schluffs so as not to gather attention, this goes back to a childhood where one wasn't supposed to really have these types of expressions of feelings. Crying didn't get you anything anyhow, distasteful looks and bitter responses about how hard they had things so what was YOUR problem?

when and if I cry loudly, I do it when I'm alone.

The 6 minute drive from house to office complete, husband walks out of car into his building and I pull away from the curb and drive about 200 feet from the building and park at the farthest reach of the parking lot and really let loose. I finally accept, there is no way I'm going to survive the day without doing something drastic.
Drastic for me is medical intervention.

Have I mentioned in the past - I hate doctors?

First I drove out to where I know the local massage school is, thinking that even an advanced student massage would be better than nothing plus ...I'm CHEAP. Let's never forget how damn cheap I am. Pulling into the parking lot and going just beyond the entrance I see a sign that says 'Closed' and a sigh escapes me. I'm now utterly defeated!

The building has an alley behind it to which I drive behind so I can come back around and head back towards home to lick my wounds (or worse), but while sitting idle waiting for traffic to open up I look to my right and WA-LAH! there is a chiropractor right next door.
Not only that there's a sign that says, "Pain? Try Acupuncture!"

I've heard from plenty of people that swear that this works, this acupuncture mumbo jumbo and since I'm ready to use a machete on my carotid & femoral arteries I quickly swing into traffic for a blink of an eye and then within another blink the car swings right into the parking lot of the bone cruncher.

No tenderfoot to this means of pain relief I go in with hopes of a miracle. A kind faced fellow meets me at the desk and introduces himself as the doctor, we discuss my history and what brought me to his door ...and then the magic begins.
Generally an X-ray is required for any new chiropractor before they'll even lay hands on you but I have a way of persuading people to do what I want, and when you can see torment in my green eyes you feel compelled to let me have my way.

The first few moments I was about to hop back off the table because I was sure this guy was a hack. It's been a while since I had seen a chiropractor in an office, my last guy actually did adjustments for me in the physical therapy office at the doctors office. He was a licensed chiropractor but not practicing for that instead he was doing the P/T (I think just to be employed in this awful economy). I'd get adjustments right on a standard patient table, not really that easy to do since most of the time its easiest when you are much lower to the ground and I'm not a petite gal.
This new guy, his table is a 'bump' table and it started see-sawing and freaking me out. Apparently this stretching is going to help him do his alchemy but it's just causing me to gasp every time my spine is pulled this way and that.

Then he leans in and gets to work, holy fudgsicles I thought I was going to shit my pants and if not that, at least blast him with a tremendous fart. Seriously, have you ever been shocked or hurt in a way that it makes you fart? or am I the only one? I can't be the only one...I know when I laugh or snort or cough too hard sometimes I'll whizz myself but wait that's a different problem!

See-saw see-saw and he says, "okay I'm going to bump you" and KABLAM! the table drops and he does this crazy yanking on me and I feel my hip popping into place. oh man, wait a minute this table thing works.
this went on for quite some time, the visit took nearly 45 minutes which I know is a very long visit compared to previous visits to others.

He gave me an adjustment to my busted up knee and even popped my ankles, elbows and shoulders. It was disconcerting at first but after a while I felt almost 'airy', very light on my feet but that's a joke because when I stood I still wasn't really all that ambulatory but I was MUCH better that's for certain.
My third visit he will get to poke needles into me, I'm going to have him take pictures too!

It's been a few days since my first visit in fact yesterday was my 2nd visit and I'm walking much better but unfortunately my pain remains. We had discussed the possibility of a herniated disk (that pop, remember?) and I guess I should suck it up and pay for the xrays after all. But the question is, so what if it is? THEN WHAT? then you get told you can't do this, or this or that or this...

Hell I already know I can't because I know what my limits are. (Yes I push my limits a lot who cares)
Right now my limits are: lifting my dogs Poncho (7 lbs) and Jake (4 lbs) but Helen can walk on her own unless I get a fit of adrenaline and want to push my limits more.

Thank you to my husband who has been a very understanding guy - he puts up with a lot of my complaining but this last week has been one of the worst yet. I'm sorry I'm broken and there's no warranty.

Just remember that antiques are always beautiful even if they have some character flaws.