I've been committed

I was looking back and realized that I have been blogging on a consistent basis for about a year. Ok, there were a couple of lapses here and there when my lazy fingers couldn't make it to the keyboard but, for the most part, I was committed to blogging this year. I have really enjoyed it and I hope all three to four of you who read my blog have enjoyed it too. But there comes a time in every bloggers life when you have to ask yourself--should I continue? do I really have anything worth saying anymore? It took me about half a second to decide that I probably shouldn't continue and I know I don't have anything worth saying. (And here's my big) BUT that hasn't stopped me in the past and it won't stop me now. So on I go.

I went for a massage recently at a school for massage therapists. My mom told me about it and I decided to try it since they give a one hour massage for $25 which is a killer deal. The catch is that you are the guinea pig for their learning hands. And that's not the only catch apparently which I learned while I was reading all the terms and conditions. I had to sign this little waiver before the massage in which I had to agree to act appropriately, not contact the student outside of the school for massages, be free from sickness, and wear underwear. Oops. You see, as I might have mentioned before, I am not a fan of underwear. So my first embarrassment of the day was having to tell the secretary at the massage school that I was not wearing any underwear. Then I was passed off to my therapist (who was informed that I was not wearing any underwear.) My therapist was a woman. When I have the choice I usually pick a woman because I really cannot relax with a man massager. I am too preoccupied thinking about stuff like--'Oh crap, I didn't shave my legs' or 'Are my nipples hard?' or 'Did he just peek when I turned over?' So I prefer women--in my massagers anyway. But I do like a big burly woman with strong hands. So when my massage lady asked me about the amount of pressure I like during a massage I said, "I like it hard." And that was my second embarrassing moment of the day. Did I actually say that?!

The massage went fine but I swear, no matter how much I tell them, they never spend enough time on my back and shoulders. Geez, my feet and hands really don't need that much attention. I don't lay down at the end of the day and say "Wow, my feet feel really tense tonight."

In conclusion, I am so glad that I can tell you about these little gems in my life because I wouldn't dare tell anyone else.