It’s the Thought That Counts/Valentine Monk Gone Wrong
It all started with a text, how’d it end up like this?
My husband was getting a hair cut; I was at work.
Him: I just purchased you a 45 minute massage for Saturday morning at 10 a.m with a licensed massage therapist … can you make it, right here in (blocked for privacy) next door to granite store?
Him: Great haircut as well
Me: What???? Really?
Him: Is that okay … I have to let ‘Fred’ (name changed for privacy) know if you can’t make it. ‘Fred’ will serve you …. hehe. I figured get it done early so you can get on with your day.
Me: Well yeah!
(Side note: Get on with my day??? I’m getting a massage, there will be no more day.)
Him: Awesome! I didn’t get you a haircut, just a massage, what I meant is that they offer great style options.
(Another side note. I laugh/bleated at that clarification. He was there getting a hair cut. The fact that he didn’t know there are endless haircut options endeared me to him.)
Him: I’ll bet you’re the most stunningly beautiful lady Fred gets his hands on in many years …
That was Thursday.
He left for Chicago early this morning and, the time had come today.
I upped the 45 minutes to Fred’s usual hour and a half explaining I’d pay the difference, because, my GAWD, I need a massage!!!!!
My husband left concerned and insecure – “If there’s something he does that you like, may you teach me it?”
Yes, yes I would.
I’ll now go on to explain why that will never be necessary.
I arrived 10 minutes early. I always arrive early. Walked into a salon, put my mask on, and was greeted by a very small dog.
Explained to ‘lady in salon’ that I was there for my massage.
‘Masseuse’ walked in past our arranged time.
Still petting dog.
‘Fred’ gestures me over to his desk.
Now, I have to point out, my appointment was for 10:00 a.m.
It’s past that.
I join him, masked, at his desk as he proceeds to pull out a … um … schematic of the human body and doctor-like questions.
Okay – he’s very thorough.
15 minutes later, and many intrusive questions later – I’m led to a little room with a red light.
I knew it would be an hour and a half, and have the bladder of a hamster, so, asked, “Where may I use a restroom?”
As luck would have it (dripping with sarcasm here) it was right next to the red light district, oh, I mean, massage room.
I get back, “Okay, undress, keep what you’re comfortable having on and yell really loud when you’re ready.”
Retaining undies and under blankets, I yell out, “READY!”
Looking back – I wasn’t.
SO! I’m undressed, except for undies. Monk walks in. Lovely Indian music playing, candle lit.
That’s basically where it ended.
I had body parts removed from the sheets whilst he breathed heavily and tenderly touched my body.
(It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that that sounds like an amazing beginning to a murder mystery novel lol.)
But no, too tender.
As he ‘massaged’, I tried to float off – be in the moment.
He still breathed heavily, as if I was a Yoga session, yet, he was breathing FOR me. Literally touching my skin and exhaling every.single.time.
Also, I could hear the salon. “You can’t put two properties on your land!” (Me, with over 15 years in the industry) is literally ready to hop off his table and cover myself in a sheet and explain the details and explain ‘Real Estate 101’.
Things got ‘Okay’ for a little while. Still dragging little parts of me out from under the covers and ‘touching’ them; not really ‘massaging’ them.
He’s still exhaling (loudly) … I’m trying to block everything out (including him) and enjoy this HUGE treat.
Then, THEN, came the stretching – Um – I signed up for a massage!
Literally, each leg was taken out of the sequestered blanket and pushed over my head, straightened. Then once more, just to prove that my extension had been improved.
I’m over an hour into (not literally ‘into’ but, time wise) this and regretting being excited.
He’s talked, and talked, and breathed, and breathed.
I know now he’s 74, just got his license 2 months ago after 800 hours. etc. etc. OH! I learned this during a face massage when he poked me in the eye. And, first of all, I don’t wear make-up, so, I DID enjoy the face massage. But, don’t assume that. A lot of people don’t expect that and DO wear make-up.
My hubby bought me 45 minutes for $40. Let’s remember this part.
He finds a wound on me under my ‘scapula’ that he awoke (and not in a good way, I told him about it during our Scientology paperwork beforehand) and it now hurts when it hasn’t for a long time!
He barely touched my feet.
Barely touched my neck.
Then, wanted to massage my stomach. After all, I’d mentioned a surgery I had when I was little – so, he felt for my organs.
I jokingly said, “Yes, please make sure my pancreas is okay”.
He then pulls out this AMAZING gadget! It massaged! Hit points he didn’t for the entire time!
Wanted to ask him where that had been the entire freaking time. lol. For the first time, he was concerned about hygiene, there was a towel between me and the machine.
THEEEEEEEEEEE ENNNNNNNNDING – was huge.
He literally got down by my head, ‘swooped’ my hair off the table and said loudly, “LEAVE HER!”
I glanced at my clothes, at my body – at … reality.
Sat up, shrugged my t-shirt on, no movement from the door, so – got completely dressed.
A 45 minute session was $40. Yet, an hour and one half was $90? Don’t you reduce your price for bulk? I dropped, kindly, 20% and left feeling like a freaking ass with a sore ‘scapula’ and $70 lighter.
I love the thought. He couldn’t have known. AT ALL! He got a great hair cut, and I got a great story!
Missed you guys!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
Musings from the laundromat: Laundry Lady returns and Pigeons Feeding Frenzy edition
She’s baaaack! One Sunday morning only, due to ‘scheduling’.
AND! ‘Don’t stop believing’ is on the radio.
All is right with this Sunday morning.
I made it abundantly clear last week to the manager that I missed my Laundry Lady. (She has a name, I choose not to use it here for the sake of her anonymity, not out of disrespect).
I hadn’t seen her in weeks! Although, to be fair, one of those weeks was due to me not attending Laundry Day.
Me: Is ____ ok?
Manager: Yeah! We’re down a person and ____ prefers to come in later.
Me: But … It’s my routine. I miss her.
Manager: (Laughs) You know what? I’m going to tell her that, because I don’t really do mornings.
I felt a little bad this morning when I saw who was opening. Like I had something to do with her schedule.
But, no, it just so happens something hung the manager up here until after midnight.
I guess I don’t have the pull I thought I did around here. (Joke).
I’m looking around and noticing the gender ratio … There’s 5 men vs one woman. That woman being me.
The funny thing I’ve noticed about guys doing laundry is … They hover.
They stand staring at the their chosen machines – guarding them?
It cracks me up.
A wash cycle takes half an hour, and the dryers run in 10 minute increments. Take a seat guys! The rainbow umbrella table is available!
So, I’m over in my nook and Laundry Lady just came over for a chat. (I think she might have missed me a little bit too.)
Asked me if I’d ever seen Twilight.
(She had just watched all the movies).
Have I seen Twilight? HA!
I gobbled up those pages faster than a pigeon with a French fry! Then saw the movies.
Speaking of pigeons.
It was my mum’s birthday this past week. We celebrated yesterday with a ‘mum and me’ day.
Went down to the river, ok, the casinos along the river, and had a wonderful lunch at Bubba Gump’s.
Here’s my mum’s plate with a few friends.
(SUBTITLES: What my mum says at the end is: “OK, that’s it. No, I’m sorry, but you’re just throwing it at me here.”)
Funny thing was, an employee came over after noticing the flock of feeders and said, “We ask you don’t feed the birds.”
My mum replied, “I’m not feeding them, they’re helping themselves.”
It was a great day.
And now I’m home and Sunday still feels perfectly right.
Hope yours does too!
Super Bawl Sunday …
My kidlet has been gone a month.
I’ve had ‘compliments’ handling this from my bosses.
Truth is – I’m still rocked. My entire world is rocked. I hide it, then:
Bawl like a baby alone.
I have only been able to do the minimum in his room. I can’t be in there for long.
There is so MUCH to do.
Then there’s the living room. His Christmas stocking along with some contents of it are still there. Plus, ‘the sock’.
I don’t want to erase my kid!!
The rest of the room is pristine.
My bird’s sock.
Anyway, so, I go to the laundromat early today … Big mistake. Ended up waiting 20 minutes because again, my Laundry Lady didn’t show. Her boss did, again. Last week, I didn’t go – because, I didn’t have Nic’s clothes to wash. Mine weren’t enough to warrant a trip.
ALL I’ve done this weekend was watch Netflix (This weekend is ‘Saving Grace’ which, I can totally relate to.)
It has touched me on SO many levels I can’t explain.
I guess I’ll try.
I identify with Grace.
I’ve lived a life similar, only, without the whole ‘being a cop and saving people’ thing. But, I like to think I’ve contributed to someone or something.
I posted the theme song to my wall today …
Tangent – sorry.
What triggers me missing Nic?
Only having one basket of clothes for the laundromat.
Me taking a shower and the setting that I use is still on.
Me coming home and the place looks the same as when I left it.
Me coming home and there is no other car.
Me not doing some dishes anyway because I miss the mess.
And mostly, just me, missing the love of my life.
What scares me is, that because of my past I’ve hardened my heart.
Gets me through each day.
I may break down sometimes, and when I do, it’s rough.
But, I’ve been broken so many times to the point I dismiss someone’s existence. Or, their part in mine.
So, what does that mean for my son?
Why do I get ‘kudos’ for not falling apart for my kidlet?
I have a barrier so huge and so strong and so ‘HuuuuGE” Trump would be jealous. Use my wall as ‘the’ fucking ridiculous wall and NO ONE would get in.
(Hate him by the way)
The people do let in by the way, surprise me. Had a friend not long ago comment on Facebook.
As it was sweet, and kind, and ‘Amanda’ past.
I have his SOCK.
CALL ME DOBBY
My first snowday – By Butters
It was very loud and windy last night. I know ‘windy’ because mom says that’s what when things fall over and noises happen outside. I told her a lot all night that was happening by barking and I was walking around a lot too.
We did not sleep very well.
This morning, mom’s alarm went off, I usually get up and stand over her to say ‘It’s time!’ but today I was too tired.
She pressed the button she presses when she is too sleepy too. A LOT of times.
Here is me not wanting to go out in the wind. Mom ALWAYS takes pictures! It makes me crazy. But, I’m glad she wants pictures of me.
Mom said “It’s New Years Eve! I won’t be gone all day, so if you can’t go potty, I’ll be home by just after lunch ok?”
I knew she would make me go potty anyway … she always does, and I won’t leave the porch if she is not outside with me. Even though she was late, she put on more layers of cloth and came outside.
I love the word ‘Outside’.
Mom was home WAY sooner than lunch!
We live in the desert (she calls it that.)
All I know is, when I have hair it’s too hot in the Summer, but mom doesn’t want me shaved because then I’ll be ‘sunburned’. I know when I found my family in 2011 I have never been too cold or too hot.
Mom used to leave the front door open enough for me during ‘Summer’ Mumbled things about air-conditioning the entire neighborhood (then laughing about how other ‘adults’ used to say that?) so I could nudge my way in and out all day.
She didn’t do that this last Summer.
I live near people she didn’t want me nudging out to.
That’s all I understand about it.
When mom was at work today – something happened that hasn’t happened EVER in my life! It hadn’t happened ever in my mom’s life here either!!!
Mom said it was called, Snow.
She got to be home early because of ‘snow’.
It started out like this at mom’s work:
Then she came home and let me see it!
This was my very first snow day!!! ( I told you mom takes a lot of pictures)
This is a blurry picture of me first seeing the white stuff.
Then things got crazy!
These fluffy things kept coming out of the sky!!! I didn’t mind them. I love rain. I loved the fluffy things too! Mom was with me – and kept making excited noises about it all.
This is my boy going to his car to get something … he said his ‘thing’ from the car was frozen … mom kept singing ‘Do you wanna build a snowman?’ even though she’s never seen the movie I hear it’s from.
But she DID make one!
It had blueberry eyes that I got to eat!!!!!!!
This was the best day ever!
Here are some more pictures mom took of me.
And here are my pawprints!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I was sad about my tennis ball …
But mom said it would ‘warm up’ again.
All my things outside are wet …
This is my bed … and my green thing!
Mom said they would dry.
It got too cold outside. (I still love that word ‘OUTSIDE!’)
So mom and my boy said snow could come INSIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I liked the ‘snowballs’ they made – because they tasted like water and felt like a ball.
My mom says I can’t leave out this photo … I was ‘being cute’
here it is – and I was cold!
but OH so happy! And now, I’m snuggly on my couch … and my mom says I should say ‘thank you’ because a lot of people have read about me this year and she says I have a lot of ‘fans’.
Musings from the Laundromat: The Parenting Paradigm edition
I’ve figured it out.
The parenting paradigm. This progression of unconditional love and support to ‘If he leaves a dirty dish in the sink one more time, I shall end him’.
I’ll preface all of this with, if my son needed me to die today in order to live – I would not ask a question except “Where do I have to go for this to happen?”
If he needed a body part and I had to saw if off myself – okay … probably that would be hard to do – but I’d let people hold me down and do it without any anesthesia.
My son is my most favorite person – my raison d’être.
Then he got older. And more capable. And more independent.
Which is great! But as I strained to lug two laundry bags inside today, and realized that 3/4 of it was his – and that he is not even here … well.
Know how we panic then experience such emotion when an animal is killed in a movie, but not so much a human?
Yes you do.
I’ve figured it all out.
Once someone is capable of taking care of themselves but won’t – then it’s on them.
A small child – innocent animal – they can’t do it. They depend on us. Count on us. Love us with pure abandon.
Which, is why I broke down and cleaned out Nic’s hamster last night. Poor thing.
I remember how he begged to have her for his birthday – we stood in the pet store, his 19-year-old hands sweaty with birthday money and he pledged that THIS animal would be different. After all, he was a MAN now.
When I returned home from work Friday, he had left for the weekend – and little remnants of his visit were everywhere. Curiously, none of them cedar chips – which invariably end up on the kitchen floor during a cage cleaning.
Our current situation is this – he works Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday in a neighboring State. Then he comes home Monday night and goes to our local college Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. I think. There may be one more day in there. Anyway, he stays with my mom while he’s working. The excuse was ‘to save gas’ although, I think that was the beginning of another necessary paradigm shift – the spreading wings part.
It’s working out for me. I get the weekends alone and still get to see him during the week in-between video games/calls to his girlfriend and Skypes. So basically when he’s hungry and rooting around in the kitchen, or bored because he’s had his fill of online entertainment. It’s working out for my mom for sure – she get’s grandma time. And it’s working out for Nic. So it’s win-win-win really.
But before he left this time, I asked him to please clean his hamster and before he came home this time, I had asked him to please keep the house as clean as it was.
So Friday night after telling him I was confused and was he coming home that night? Due to the fact that his TV was on, hamster wasn’t done, trash was overflowing and dishes were on the counter. (And I wasn’t being sarcastic) this chat happened.
it started with me telling him I would clean out the hamster this weekend. Yeah I know, pushover. But remember, we are pulled to caring for the defenseless.
Back to the Parenting Paradigm.
So the more the young is capable of doing, and the older the young get – the more it feels like you’ve got a non-paying roommate that does nothing to contribute to the house and yet enjoys all the benefits of living there.
Nature knows what it’s doing. Because we were all like that to some degree and I’m certain its on purpose. So that when the time comes for the young to leave the nest – us parents willing to saw body parts off won’t be so devastated.
I enjoy my quiet weekends. But I’m not ready for silent weeknights just yet.
I cleaned out the hamster last night by the way … after I gave Butters a bath and cleaned the house – because none of those things were capable of doing themselves.
And the laundry hasn’t learned to fold itself yet – so I’m headed to the dryers and hoping you all had a wonderful weekend.