Dear 2008,
Man, will I be glad to see you go. At first glance, it seems like I really shouldn't be that angry with you. After all, it was 2007 that took my husband away from me for over a year. But still, you did bring things like this and this to me out of nowhere.
I did my best to celebrate your arrival. I went out with two friends to an overcrowded bar, even though all I wanted to do was sleep! Maybe you could tell, though, since you decided to do all you could to drag yourself out, throwing a leap year at me and even adding an extra second to yourself tonight.
I did my best to make you go by quickly, and praise the Lord you did. I kept myself ridiculously busy with training and completing umpteen billion athletic feats (OK, like 6, but whatever. It was a lot.). I went on a couple trips with friends. I got promoted. I met some famous people. I went to a handful of concerts (interesting ones and awesome ones). I rode a hot air balloon for the first time and made it to Day 12 for the first time ever with K. Thanks to K, I got pampered a lot, which was definitely awesome. And I was only in one wedding this year (sorry, haven't blogged about it ... but it was just over a week ago, and I haven't even looked at my pictures yet!).
But I spent a lot of 2008 just waiting, getting by. Almost everything I did was designed to get me closer to 2009. Every step, every pedal, every countdown (man, there were a lot of those!) was added intentionally to make the next countdown seem that much closer. I spent a lot of time exhausted, but my plan worked.
Despite your stubbornness and added time, 2008, I won't look back at you as a bad year, but I'm still glad to see you go. And I'm going to celebrate tonight the way I wanted to last year: I'm going to bed. And I'm sleeping in.
And when I wake up tomorrow, I'll have a smile on my face. It's just that I'm really looking forward to so many things 2009 holds for me: My Sooners are in the national championship (here's hoping we don't roll over and die), I'll get to leave Dallas (thank you, Jesus!), K and I will have our "real" wedding (and it will be awesome!), and I'll finally finally finally get to live with my husband (in case you're wondering, we still don't know where).
But the part of 2009 I'm most looking forward to will come only a few days into the year: K will come home.
So please don't dawdle on your way out, 2008. I'm ready to start living to the fullest again.
Love,
me
Showing posts with label Pampering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pampering. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Third time was definitely a charm!
I went in on Saturday for my third massage. Since my previous masseuses had both been males, I requested a woman so I could see how different of an experience that would be.
As usual, the masseuse asked me if there were any specific muscles that were sore and would need extra attention. I told her my legs, which were sore thanks to doing a large amount of squats in 20 minutes and then running three miles (my workout buddy enjoys torturing me!).
As the woman began the massage, I realized how different each masseuse’s style is. This one was very fond of deep breaths, which worked for me. She also used the hot towels at the beginning of the massage, while the two men had both saved them for the end.
It was much easier for me to relax more quickly knowing a woman was giving the massage. It’s probably not very fair, but it’s true. When she massaged my legs, she uncovered my glutes a bit (thought not as much as the first guy). Since she was a woman and also since I’d asked her to focus on my legs, I didn’t think much of it. I also don’t know that I’d have said anything about the soreness in my legs if I’d had a male masseuse, since focusing on my legs would mean having to focus on the gluteal area as well.
Toward the end of the massage, they all asked me to roll over onto my back so they could massage my neck, shoulders, head and/or face. The woman held up the blanket for me to roll over, and when I did, I was surprised at how close she was standing to the edge of the blanket, making it more likely that she had seen my bare chest. That made me a little uncomfortable, but again, since it was a woman, I didn’t think as much of it as I would have if she had been a man.
The two male masseuses had stood a ways back when I rolled over, which I appreciated. If one of them had been standing as closely as the woman did, I probably would have covered my chest and asked him to move back. (Yes, it’s a double standard, but at least I’m being honest.)
What’s funny is that as I was in the waiting area before my appointment, my first masseuse came out to greet his next appointment. He looked at me, pointed and said, “You look very familiar.” I couldn't help but think to myself, “Maybe if I were lying face-down on a massage table with half of my butt exposed, you’d recognize me.”
I just smiled.
As usual, the masseuse asked me if there were any specific muscles that were sore and would need extra attention. I told her my legs, which were sore thanks to doing a large amount of squats in 20 minutes and then running three miles (my workout buddy enjoys torturing me!).
As the woman began the massage, I realized how different each masseuse’s style is. This one was very fond of deep breaths, which worked for me. She also used the hot towels at the beginning of the massage, while the two men had both saved them for the end.
It was much easier for me to relax more quickly knowing a woman was giving the massage. It’s probably not very fair, but it’s true. When she massaged my legs, she uncovered my glutes a bit (thought not as much as the first guy). Since she was a woman and also since I’d asked her to focus on my legs, I didn’t think much of it. I also don’t know that I’d have said anything about the soreness in my legs if I’d had a male masseuse, since focusing on my legs would mean having to focus on the gluteal area as well.
Toward the end of the massage, they all asked me to roll over onto my back so they could massage my neck, shoulders, head and/or face. The woman held up the blanket for me to roll over, and when I did, I was surprised at how close she was standing to the edge of the blanket, making it more likely that she had seen my bare chest. That made me a little uncomfortable, but again, since it was a woman, I didn’t think as much of it as I would have if she had been a man.
The two male masseuses had stood a ways back when I rolled over, which I appreciated. If one of them had been standing as closely as the woman did, I probably would have covered my chest and asked him to move back. (Yes, it’s a double standard, but at least I’m being honest.)
What’s funny is that as I was in the waiting area before my appointment, my first masseuse came out to greet his next appointment. He looked at me, pointed and said, “You look very familiar.” I couldn't help but think to myself, “Maybe if I were lying face-down on a massage table with half of my butt exposed, you’d recognize me.”
I just smiled.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Maybe I should've been the one charging for my first massage
Saturday I used my gift certificate from K for month two of my spa treatment. I went with the massage again, but this time I had a different masseuse. Again, I had no preference for a girl or a guy, so again, I got a male massage therapist.
This guy was really nice. He's a newlywed too -- he was actually married the weekend of my first massage. He reminded me of a couple guys I know, so I was comfortable with him. Plus, with one massage under my belt, I was more relaxed since I actually had some idea of what to expect.
There were a few differences in the massage techniques of December Guy and January Guy. December Guy massaged my face more at the end, while January Guy spent more time on my scalp. January Guy used some aromatherapy stuff to help relieve the tension in my shoulder blades, but December Guy used nothing other than massage oils. Both spent a lot of time around my shoulder blades and mentioned how many knots I had (it's stressful having K overseas!).
There was one pretty big difference, though, that I couldn't help but notice.
When January Guy went to massage my legs, he only uncovered my leg. My gluteal area remained under the blanket. January Guy spent very little time massaging my gluteals, and when he did, his hands were over the blanket. There was never any contact between his skin and my derrière. And it was certainly never exposed -- all completely opposite from my experience with December Guy!
When I told Jeremy about this particular difference in technique, he pointed out that December Guy knew it was my first massage, so he knew I had no idea what to expect -- and I'd have no idea if he (or the blanket) went a bit beyond the usual massage.
The papers all clients must sign before their first visit to this spa inform you that the gluteals are part of the massage, unless you specify against it. But the paper says nothing about whether they'll be uncovered during that portion.
I guess we'll just have to see how February Masseuse handles that area (literally).
This guy was really nice. He's a newlywed too -- he was actually married the weekend of my first massage. He reminded me of a couple guys I know, so I was comfortable with him. Plus, with one massage under my belt, I was more relaxed since I actually had some idea of what to expect.
There were a few differences in the massage techniques of December Guy and January Guy. December Guy massaged my face more at the end, while January Guy spent more time on my scalp. January Guy used some aromatherapy stuff to help relieve the tension in my shoulder blades, but December Guy used nothing other than massage oils. Both spent a lot of time around my shoulder blades and mentioned how many knots I had (it's stressful having K overseas!).
There was one pretty big difference, though, that I couldn't help but notice.
When January Guy went to massage my legs, he only uncovered my leg. My gluteal area remained under the blanket. January Guy spent very little time massaging my gluteals, and when he did, his hands were over the blanket. There was never any contact between his skin and my derrière. And it was certainly never exposed -- all completely opposite from my experience with December Guy!
When I told Jeremy about this particular difference in technique, he pointed out that December Guy knew it was my first massage, so he knew I had no idea what to expect -- and I'd have no idea if he (or the blanket) went a bit beyond the usual massage.
The papers all clients must sign before their first visit to this spa inform you that the gluteals are part of the massage, unless you specify against it. But the paper says nothing about whether they'll be uncovered during that portion.
I guess we'll just have to see how February Masseuse handles that area (literally).
Saturday, December 08, 2007
I don't even know his last name
I had my first massage today from the gift certificate K got me for Christmas. It was nice, but I think next time will be more relaxing than today. I didn't know what to expect, and it was hard to allow myself to completely enjoy it when I wasn't sure where Mr. Massage Guy was going to be putting his hands next.
It's crazy the things you can think of to be self-conscious about during a massage: Are my legs smooth? Are my feet dry? Ugh, why do I have to have a blister on the bottom of my foot right now? I didn't even think to make sure my deodorant didn't glob on today; I hope he can't see it! Oh, he can probably feel how crooked my fingers are -- great.
I know he's probably massaged dozens and dozens (maybe even hundreds) of people in his career, and he's a professional, but it's hard not to get worked up over things like that while a person is staring at your body as they're rubbing it for an entire 50 minutes.
And that doesn't even include the lower lower back massage or the leg massage portions, during which the sheet was moved to expose one entire cheek at a time. Nerve wracking!
That's pretty much third base, right? I mean, there I am, naked on the table, and the sheet was only covering one half of my gluteus maximus. Which he was touching.
Including Mr. Massage Guy, I don't need all the fingers on one hand to count the number of guys who have seen my bare gluteus maximus (much less grabbed it for 10 straight minutes). All I knew about him was his job and his first name. I was wide awake, so I kept thinking of questions I wanted to ask him: How long have you been doing this? Do your hands get tired after massaging people all day, or do you get used to it? How long did you go to school to learn this? Did you have to get tons and tons of massages before you could learn to do it well yourself (because that would be awesome!)? Do you ever even buy people Christmas gifts, or do you just give massages (because if I were friends with a massage therapist, I'd totally be cool with that!)? Do you ever have stressful days at work? Is it possible to even be stressed out with all the aromatherapy candles, the dim lighting and the relaxing music? When you leave here, are you just really relaxed, or do you have a buildup of aggression because you have to be so relaxed all day long?
I kept my mouth shut, though, because I knew Mr. Massage Guy would tell me I wasn't relaxing if I was asking him all those questions. But I still wanted to know.
As if he didn't already know way more about me than I knew about him, it was surprising to see the things a masseuse can determine about you while he's doing his job. Mr. Massage Guy informed me that I carry my stress in my shoulder blades. Not only was he able to tell me that I grind my teeth, but he even informed me that I grind them very badly. He asked me if I wore a mouth guard when I sleep. When I told him I don't, he tried to peg me as someone who needed to visit the dentist. I thought I had him: I went to the dentist just this past summer, and he said nothing about my teeth grinding. But it's about time for my six-month checkup again, so I guess Mr. Massage Guy's radar even caught that.
After our time was up, Mr. Massage Guy left me alone in the room so I could put my fluffy white robe back on. I felt relaxed, cozy and completely pampered. I was wishing even more that K was here so I could really thank him again for such a thoughtful and perfect gift.
The whole experience was really nice, but it wasn't as relaxing as I had thought it would be. Mr. Massage Guy did a great job, so I know it was my own fault for not letting myself completely enjoy it. I fully expect my next visit to be better, now that I know what to expect. It's just always so nerve wracking getting to third base together the first time!
It's crazy the things you can think of to be self-conscious about during a massage: Are my legs smooth? Are my feet dry? Ugh, why do I have to have a blister on the bottom of my foot right now? I didn't even think to make sure my deodorant didn't glob on today; I hope he can't see it! Oh, he can probably feel how crooked my fingers are -- great.
I know he's probably massaged dozens and dozens (maybe even hundreds) of people in his career, and he's a professional, but it's hard not to get worked up over things like that while a person is staring at your body as they're rubbing it for an entire 50 minutes.
And that doesn't even include the lower lower back massage or the leg massage portions, during which the sheet was moved to expose one entire cheek at a time. Nerve wracking!
That's pretty much third base, right? I mean, there I am, naked on the table, and the sheet was only covering one half of my gluteus maximus. Which he was touching.
Including Mr. Massage Guy, I don't need all the fingers on one hand to count the number of guys who have seen my bare gluteus maximus (much less grabbed it for 10 straight minutes). All I knew about him was his job and his first name. I was wide awake, so I kept thinking of questions I wanted to ask him: How long have you been doing this? Do your hands get tired after massaging people all day, or do you get used to it? How long did you go to school to learn this? Did you have to get tons and tons of massages before you could learn to do it well yourself (because that would be awesome!)? Do you ever even buy people Christmas gifts, or do you just give massages (because if I were friends with a massage therapist, I'd totally be cool with that!)? Do you ever have stressful days at work? Is it possible to even be stressed out with all the aromatherapy candles, the dim lighting and the relaxing music? When you leave here, are you just really relaxed, or do you have a buildup of aggression because you have to be so relaxed all day long?
I kept my mouth shut, though, because I knew Mr. Massage Guy would tell me I wasn't relaxing if I was asking him all those questions. But I still wanted to know.
As if he didn't already know way more about me than I knew about him, it was surprising to see the things a masseuse can determine about you while he's doing his job. Mr. Massage Guy informed me that I carry my stress in my shoulder blades. Not only was he able to tell me that I grind my teeth, but he even informed me that I grind them very badly. He asked me if I wore a mouth guard when I sleep. When I told him I don't, he tried to peg me as someone who needed to visit the dentist. I thought I had him: I went to the dentist just this past summer, and he said nothing about my teeth grinding. But it's about time for my six-month checkup again, so I guess Mr. Massage Guy's radar even caught that.
After our time was up, Mr. Massage Guy left me alone in the room so I could put my fluffy white robe back on. I felt relaxed, cozy and completely pampered. I was wishing even more that K was here so I could really thank him again for such a thoughtful and perfect gift.
The whole experience was really nice, but it wasn't as relaxing as I had thought it would be. Mr. Massage Guy did a great job, so I know it was my own fault for not letting myself completely enjoy it. I fully expect my next visit to be better, now that I know what to expect. It's just always so nerve wracking getting to third base together the first time!
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