Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Peel me a grape and pass the lawn clippings tea Well, dah-lings, now that I've had a taste of the good life, I'm not sure I can go back to being your unspoiled, innocent Genibee. Cherbear treated me to a massage at a day spa on Saturday, and now I expect only the best. We walked into the lobby, and were met with a blast of Celtic-Native-American-Ocean Waves-Stormy Evening-flute music, and a burst of soothing aromatherapy treatments all warring for predominance in our nostrils. The atrium had a fountain filled with dried rose petals and little white Christmas lights, so we knew we were in a classy establishment. Lots of psuedo-Roman touches, like Corinthian columns, wall-murals, and fake ivy draped over everything. We were instructed to change into waffle-cloth bathrobes, and spa slippers with the little plastic nubbins to massage your feet as you walked, but then we were promptly placed on two big overstuffed fainting couches so we never actually got to test the slippers effectiveness out. Cherbear was scheduled first, so I lounged, reading fashionista magazines and sneering at the heroin chic models inside. (There was one advertisement for Versace or some such, featuring a blonde woman who looked like she was waiting for the cameraman to go away so she could continue beating the young boy that was sitting next to her.) A spa-serf brought me soothing herbal tea that tasted like grass clippings and mint, and then water in a big, red glass goblet, so I was getting the total Goddess treatment. Then - oh, bliss! - it was my turn for the rubdown. I will draw a curtain over the proceedings, because my moans of ecstacy would no doubt excite jealous commentary. Suffice it to say I was feeling good. Real good. Oh, yeah. And then Cherbear and I went to her place and played Trivial Pursuit with her two roommates. And I totally got my ass whupped, because I was so relaxed that my brain had ceased to function (at least, that was my excuse). Sunday was spent lounging in the bed with Bemo, watching football and one trip to the used book store, where I spent money I shouldn't have but bought four really cool books. I also bought about eight billion boxes of instant oatmeal for work, plus more hot chocolate. It's an addiction, I tell you - who needs coffee when you can have the chocolaty goodness of Swiss Miss? Someday, I'm gonna marry that girl... 8:55 a.m. - 2002-01-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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