Last week, partially to celebrate 40 pounds gone, partially because my neck and back were tight, and mostly because I like me, I booked myself a massage. I’ve only had a couple of official massages in my life and I generally ruin them by yacking endlessly due to my debilitating need to be liked, particularly by people with their hands on my bare skin. This time, I was bound and determined to shut up and relax.
I was referred to a place called Within in the Avenida Mall here in Calgary by my wise, genuine, serene, spiritual pal, Shelley. I arrived and was shown to my locker which was named Journey. Yes! My locker had a name. I hoped intensely that Don’t Stop Believin’ would start playing when I opened it [groan/guffaw=gruffaw]. I stuffed my jeans and shirt in Journey. The gonch stays on until I specifically book an ass massage. The robe waiting for me was made of the downy fur of a hamster’s belly or a cumulonimbus cloud. I emerged and was told to have a seat by the fireplace and a glass of water with fresh cucumber appeared in my hand. Everything was serene and it smelled of essential oil of Everything Good In Life, which I just invented.
The massage room was painted dark purple and was nice and womb-y, but not in a confining kind of way. My masseuse introduced herself and left so I could literally disrobe. When she returned, she asked why I was there and I told her my lower back and neck were tight and a bit sore. She said, “Ah yes, I saw you stretching your arms back in the waiting area.” I replied, “Oh that! Actually I forgot to take off my bra and was trying to do it through the robe, which I can’t.” We chortled.
Before the massage began, she asked, “Would it be okay if I balanced your energy first?” Nobody has ever asked me this. I thought it might be funny to take fake offense at her insinuation that it was unbalanced, but I restrained my inner hack and said, “Why yes, that would be lovely.” She put her hands on me here and there. They were nice and warm. She said my neck, back and right knee were taking in a lot of energy, i.e. problem areas. I hadn’t thought about it but my right knee does pang sometimes, but with the 40 pound loss, it has pretty much gone away (patting own back). She told me I had Very Good Energy, which I of course took to mean that I was second only to Mother Theresa. One of my special gifts is blowing compliments so out of proportion that they are unrecognizable.
She massaged me for an hour, which felt like 12 minutes, then asked how I felt. My face muffled in the face holder, I mutter/drooled, “Bliss.” Then I threatened to move in.
On the way out, there was a young girl waiting for her Mom. She was about 8 and was a gregarious little charmer. There was a dish of polished stones with different words on them. We took turns picking stones for each other and reading them and then deciding their secret meaning. We picked Blessings and Friends and Grateful and then we deftly put it all together that we are new friends with many blessings for which we are grateful. Then we fist-bumped.
In celebration of my new pal and treating myself, I bought a rose quartz rock on the way out. It is said to symbolize love and in some descriptions: “Rose quartz gemstone meaning is all about loving yourself and feeling an increase in self-worth and self-esteem.” I figured throwing a $3 pink rock at my inner Cruella the Bitch couldn’t hurt.
Not sure how the weigh in’s going to go today. I truly hesitate at mentioning The Uterus again as I know it makes some of you cringe/shudder. That said — lordy, how to put this delicately. Uhh, my ladyparts have apparently developed the absorbent power of a Sham-Wow recently. If I was a camel, I’d have morphed from a one-humper to a double-humper. Oh dear.
One thing I can confirm is that not eating sugar and white floury stuff (much) did help with PMS. I know this because I didn’t have any PMS. I’m fairly confident that the three dudes I live with would agree (if they know what’s good for them).
So, if I haven’t lost, whatevs. I know I ate well and treated myself right. The loss will come in time. No loss. An actual .8 pound gain. I blame the Sham-Wow double-humper. You know, I went to Weight Watchers ages ago and if I had a .8 pound gain, I would’ve been devastated. I would’ve felt ashamed, sat through the meeting glazed over and upset, and may very well have binged the day away. Progress has been made! I feel good, healthy and patient.
Thanks for coming by today. You’re lovely.
Pounds GAINED this week: .8
Total pounds lost: 39.2