Friday, March 18, 2011

Rerun...Hey if TV can, why can't I?

I came across this when saving files to transfer over to my new computer and I made myself giggle.  I wrote this in 2008 when I still lived at my son's house and Amata Spa was still in business.  Now they are Bath, Body and Hair, and I still love them.  Anyway, I'm trying to get things switched over to my new computer so I thought I'd share this on my blog today for those who missed it. 

I finally got around to using my Christmas present from my hubby…a day at the Spa. The gift package he presented me included a one-hour massage, a peppermint soak, a facial, a manicure and a pedicure. I’ve been so looking forward to going, but haven’t found enough free time. Since my son had the day off, yesterday worked out great. He could pick up his own child from school and watch him. What a concept. 


At the last minute, I started getting cold feet. The idea of baring my rolls of fat to an unknown person so they could knead them like a mound of dough rifled through my mind. What had I been thinking? God, what if the masseuse turned out to be a man? How much did I have to expose? Did I have to take everything off? Clearly, I hadn’t give this enough thought. The facial, manicure and pedicure I could handle, but a massage. Aren’t those tied to prostitution? I saw visions of me splashed across the local newspaper, with headlines, "Local Woman Caught Naked in Compromising Position." I had beads of sweat on my forehead when I drove into the parking lot. But once I saw the day spa, I knew it was totally a classy place. Amata Day Spa. I highly recommend it.

I was first led to a locker room and given a big fluffy robe and slippers. Of course the ‘one size fits all’ theory was supposed to apply, but I really had to pull the material tight to keep the front from gapping. The little gal I saw shuffling off to a massage room had quite the opposite problem. She looked like she’d been swallowed by a polar bear. I guess nothing is perfect.

Anyhow, I took a seat in the ‘mood’ room–a quiet cove with comfortable furniture, flickering candles, fresh fruit and the sound of calming water blended with soft music. What should have brought me peace instead sent me scurrying to the restroom. Something about the sound of running water affects me that way these days.

When I got back my masseuse was waiting for me. She was about 4’9" and weighed 50 pounds. I think I actually groaned aloud. Why couldn’t I have drawn someone who actually had one stretch mark? Despite my misgivings, it was an awesome experience and I’m anxious for a return engagement. The masseuse made it pleasant and not all all embarrassing. I was so relaxed, I forgot I was fat.

The facial was divine, but unfortunately, I came out with the same face, just a little shiner and cleaner. The soak in the sauna tub, complete with glass of wine, candles and soft music was beyond words, and I wished I had hubby there to share it with, but once glance at the water level told me I’d have to decrease the volume to a tablespoon full.


Last was the manicure, pedicure, and I really wanted another glass of wine, but I flashed back to the time my best friend and I (Leta) went to have our hair done and imbibed way too much. I remember stopping at a liquor store and buying more on the way home, and I’m not sure how we even made the trip. I was driving at one point, but must have had the good sense to change places with Leta. That was probably not a wise move because the only thing I vaguely recall during the ride was opening my eyes and seeing "Eat Western Beef" on the back of a truck. I closed up eyes, certain we were about to, literally. God must have been with two stupid people that day because we made it safe and sound and didn’t kill anyone in the process. Young and stupid, then, old and senile now. Not much difference really.

Anyhow, back to the finishing touches to my day. I have no nails, so basically all the technician did was even up the stubs and coat them with a shine. She spent most of her time working on my heels. I probably could have sanded a board with them before she made them nice and smooth. Turned out, she’s quite the avid reader and  that gave me the opportunity to talk about ME and MY books. She seemed quite interested and I enjoyed our conversation. I’m hoping maybe this might be one place where I can do a signing when my new books come out. I have to garner up the nerve to ask. I suck at things like that.  Note:  still working on getting up the nerve.

The nail tech smacked a pair of disposable thongs on me feet and sent me on my way. I came home, all prepared to have someone notice how relaxed and improved I looked. BUT… I walked through the door. Spencer had toys from stem to stern in the room, Kelly was in bed snoring, the kitchen was disaster and dinner needed to be made. Something happened to my new found inner peace as I searched the freezer for frozen pizzas. I turned right back into the same grumpy bitch I was before I left. Oh well, it was nice while it lasted. Too bad I had to come home. 

If anyone would like to donate to my next spa experience, you can send a donation to PO Box…

1 comment:

Therese said...

Well, I don't have grandkids, but I can kind of relate! My kids are 15 and 10 and still don't pick things up as they should, and nothing sets me off faster than coming home to a messy kitchen. Fun post, thanks for reposting it!

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