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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.

*Pet 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.

Lovely 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.

The ending.



He literally got down by my head, ‘swooped’ my hair off the table and said loudly, “LEAVE HER!”

Then, left.



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!

Long Distance Valentine.

When you find someone who loves your broken bits as much as they love the best you … hold on to them.

I may be spending Valentine’s Day alone, but I’m not truly alone.

I received an amazing box from my Valentine.

Ugg boots to replace the ones I mentioned in a conversation a while ago “Ug” (No pun intended) “I have holes in my Uggs!”

Fake flowers (“You wanted flowers.”)

2 cards, yes 2.

A book of 50 ways I’m ‘super’ (hand written answers, and yeah, he had all 50)

Green Bay cards.

Special Star Wars stickers peppered everything inside.  He knows me, he gets me.

I have someone very special that makes everyday amazing.

With, ok, inappropriate jokes and videos {no, not THOSE kind} he has an off kilter sense of humor I adore, because I know who he truly is.

The guy who stays friends with those he’s loved.  (And yeah, ok, sometimes that’s hard for me.)

The guy who actively avoids interaction, but will go shopping for a sick friend.

A guy who has such a routine, but let me in.  And now.  I’ve become a part of it.

image image

And THAT makes me VERY happy.

I think if we’re both being honest, it’s comfortable right now to be apart because we both have such stubbornness and independence.

It’s lovely to have someone to talk with and can count on that chat.

Life is in session and the stars have not aligned for us to be in closer proximity yet.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you – just know there is someone out there that loves you – even if they’re not with you. X

Musings from the Laundromat: Don’t Stand So Close To Me edition.

The irony in Glaucoma Man telling me he keeps the lid down on the machine next to him so people don’t crowd him while he’s less than a foot from me as I’m stuffing MY laundry into a machine was certainly not lost on me.

'Don't worry, I always stand this close to people.'

I had grocery store flashbacks.  You know, when you’re not finished with your turn and you have someone practically leaning on the little pay counter as you’re trying to swipe your card?  Breathing down your neck as you take your receipt from the cashier?  Those people.  The cashiers feed into it too!  Start ringing up the next person before you’ve even managed to put your store card and change away.

Back OFF!

Yesterday I had someone so close to me her onions were rung up with my bits and pieces.  We laughed about it – discussed sharing an onion and what not but – be patient and get off me!

I’m a little grumpy today clearly.

Not because it’s Valentines Day and I don’t have a valentine.  I think mostly because I just woke up, threw clothes on in a very sleepy state and was immediately bombarded with Glaucoma Man.

I’m not really a morning person – and I’m definitely not into being talked at such a rapid and energetic pace until all of me has woken.

I have big plans today.  Sushi grade Ahi ready to be cut into slithers of delicious sashimi.  A fruit tart for me (Nic picked a cannoli.)


So, basically, my big plans are food.  Oh, and … THE WALKING DEAD is back tonight!  So I was sure to take tomorrow off so I could stay up late and watch it.

I already know what’s going to happen – just not how exactly it’s going to play out.

Yesterday I did have actual plans.  Went to a local town with a dear friend and her granddaughter and Nic.  Pet everything furry with four legs and ate a delicious lunch.

Nic & a town dog

Nic & a town dog

My sweet friend and her granddaughter

My sweet friend and her granddaughter


Me & a burro. I wanted to kiss it on the eyeball, but it was eating.

Me & a burro. I wanted to kiss it on the eyeball, but it was eating.

If not for my friend, I don’t think I’d ever leave the house, except to run errands and work.  She forces me to ‘people’.

And now I’ve had a couple of polystyrene cups of coffee and am in a better mood.  Chatted some more with Glaucoma Man sweetly since my good nature finally woke up.

And now that he’s gone I’m scanning the room and wishing my clothes were dry and folded.

(Also very glad not to have anyone in my comfort bubble.)

Anyway, Happy Valentines Day to all of you and here’s wishing you love, sweetness and no grocery store shovey people!



Musing from the Laundromat: Marveling

Love is in the air.

Not just because it was Valentines Day yesterday …

I’m sat across from the man of my dreams who is currently and aptly, sporting a Superman t-shirt.

He’s already dropped a pair of his underwear on the floor, on purpose – to honor the tradition.  You’ve gotta love a man willing to do that.

He’s also currently chatting to one of the laundromat patrons. Talking about Idaho.  Just as chatty as I am with strangers.  (I will insist he does not accept the man’s candy though.)


I am the luckiest girl in the world.

We’ve spent our time together doing what we both do best.  Nerding out.  Countless Marvel movies … Walking Dead (that I saved until he arrived.)

Relaxing and catching up.

This is the man I loved 25 years ago – when he was still a young man.  And the things we laughed about then, and the rapport we had then, hasn’t changed.

But it has too – in the best of ways.  Because we’re ‘grown-ups’ now (I use that term loosely.)

And because the things we’ve experienced and the growth we’ve both gone through, has enabled us to be complete people sharing ourselves with one another.


Picking him up from the airport:

I was exhausted, having stayed up WAY too late, with the crazy idea I would sleep in the next day.  I never can sleep in, so why I thought that night/morning was any different is beyond me.  But I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve and sleep was the last thing on my mind.

After picking up the rental car, and since I was so tired, actually purchasing the insanely priced insurance – I was on the road.  With Nic next to me.

All went well until we reached actual traffic – and to say I had a panic attack would be putting it mildly.  I tried to breathe as Nic tried not to tell me how terrified he was to be in the passenger seat at that moment.

(He would tell me later, in no uncertain terms.)

In the terminal – waiting by the passenger pick up area, with coffee in hand, I was beside myself with anticipation.

After Skyping, over 6,000 IM’s … would I still be someone he would want to be with??

The minute I laid eyes on him, I knew for sure he was who I wanted to be with.

It was still my friend.  In the flesh.

That first hug … I have no words.  And the butterflies gave way to a peaceful, comfortable ‘home’ feeling.

Home is where we headed, Nic insisting he drive the car the rental company forbids anyone but me to drive.

“Mom, I’m better at this kind of traffic!”

I didn’t want us to die, so I caved.

Long story short, we got home safe.

Next, the ‘Butters’ introduction.

Went very well, TOO well, as she hasn’t left his side since he arrived.  And everywhere we are, she wants to be.


He gave me socks.  The best kind.  Walking Dead knee highs and Iron Man.  This man knows what I love.  He also gave me a piece of our past – which I will treasure, always.

We went to breakfast and then watched True Romance – ordered pizza for dinner, relaxed until night came and went on the search for stars.

Probably that could have been planned better.  We ended up on Route 66, in a patch of dirt staring up at the sky leaning against my car.

Gave up on that when nature called and headed further up until we reached an old mining town full of history and quaintness.

We found a little bar and I sipped a sprite as he enjoyed a beer while Zeppelin and the Doors filled the patio area.

Best Valentines Day ever.

But we know who I am.  ‘Anxiety Girl’ has come out … as the days draw nearer to his departure, I’m filled with dread.  You see, I didn’t know.

I didn’t know it could BE like this.

And I’m terrified I will have experienced it and it will go away.

And no amount of faith I have in how true and real this love is seems to be able to assuage that feeling in my stomach.  That fear.

I’ve never been this scared to lose something so important before.  Nothing has mattered this much.

But I need to stay in the moment, enjoy every second.  I’m making lifetime memories and want to be certain he has an amazing time.

And tonight, we will be walking along a river, with music in the air and laughing (as always) and I’ll try, try so hard not to think about him going home.

“Bah Luvbug!”

I’ve been hitting the conversation hearts I stocked up in my office ‘for the customers’ like a crack fiend.  They’re are a LOT better these days than they used to be FYI.  The pink ones don’t taste like Pepto Bismol anymore – and the white ones don’t taste like chalk. 

The other day I happened to actually look at one of the hearts before inhaling it … and to my horror and chagrin. It was BLANK!


What the heck?  Is that bad luck?  Foreshadowing?  A really bad omen?  Is it as bad as getting a blank fortune from a fortune cookie??  (And for someone not interested in having a valentine, I’m sure worked up over this heart aren’t I?)

My friend Lisa so amusingly said ‘you’re supposed to turn it around’. 

Ha ha.

I can assure you there was no writing on either side.

I am doomed.  DOOMED I tell you.

But – the rest of you be sure to have a happy Valentines Day tomorrow.  

Love you all bunches!

(Oh, and no, you don’t have to adjust the color on your monitor – I am now a Brunette.  Thought I’d see if I got any smarter – it isn’t working yet)