Thursday, January 22, 2009

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.

5 comments:

BeckEye said...

I'm so glad you've decided to keep cluttering up the Internetz with your dirty massage talk. It saves us all from reading blogs about...I don't know...Bratz dolls and shit.

Dr Zibbs said...

Yeah, HARD. I hear you.

Clippy Mat said...

what? nothing to say. i disagree. love your blog.
and your stories.
keep going!
:-))

Anonymous said...

You have a fifth fan. And do you know why? Because you are good enough, you're smart enough, and gosh darnit people like you. And I know that's true. Because Senator Stuart Smalley said so.

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