The laying on of hands

Betty has been suffering from an Ultimate Fever of Doom for the past week, and it has left her with sore muscles, puffy hands, and a sleepy face. She has snoozed for hours and cancelled more workouts than she decently should have – a shame, because working out makes her feel good, but a mitigated shame, because the muscle pain feels more or less the same as post-exercise soreness anyway.

After her last client of the week, therefore, Betty decided to sort things out with a nice massage. The massage lady is almost next door to Betty’s work, is very reasonably priced, and welcomes walk-ins; for the purposes of privacy and to avoid filling the massage lady’s schedule, we will refer to her as Sue. Her specialty is Chinese massage, delivered with unpretentious simplicity.

The massage went something like this:

Sue: How much pressure you like? Soft or hard?
Betty: Oh, reasonably hard is fine.
Sue: Little more pressure, no problem? I tie your hair back, OK?
Betty: Go ahead. [A flash of pain sears through Betty’s body. The massage continues in silence.]
Sue’s hands: This muscle is attached to this bone.
Betty’s body: Yes, I see.
Sue’s hands: Not necessarily. [pulls them apart]
Betty’s body: My goodness.
Sue’s hands: I will fix your shoulder now. See, here I will poke a small hole.
Betty’s body: I had forgotten the path of that particular nerve. Thank you for reminding me.
Sue’s sweet self: I cannot reach. I sit on you.
Betty’s body: Whoa.

And so on. Over the course of what was supposed to be a thirty-minute massage, Sue spent fifty minutes giving Betty a thorough what-for, reformatting shoulders, polishing spinal vertebrae, and at one point, very possibly working directly on the brain. For probably the same reasons that Betty finds Pilates refreshing, or finds it easy to sleep during IMAX disaster movies, or harbours a secret desire to try waterboarding, this type of massage is deeply relaxing; something about giving her full attention in this way makes it difficult to focus on any of life’s little problems. At any rate, today Betty has bruises from occiput to sacrum, and feels generally much better. Good show, Sue!

Happy 101

The adorable Katrina from Pugly Pixel awarded me the Happy 101 Award. Thanks, Katrina! In accepting this award, I’m going to list ten things that make me happy. I’m also going to pass the award on to five friends — so brace yourself, blogosphere: Smokey the Magnificent and the boy person friend are invited to tell me ten happiness-inducing things, as are Sweet Sassafras, Geek Threads, and Cider and Faun. (I know, it’s ten friends — but I’m a newbie, so rather than spamming my blogroll, I’ll make it five special ones.) Things that make me happy…

  1. Sleeping in! OK, at the moment this one makes me wistful, but the days of sleeping in will return one day, and they will make me so happy.
  2. Finding a perfect fruit. Perfect avocado, perfect pink grapefruit, juicy green grapes, crunchy apple, melty pear…
  3. Being upside-down. My favourite thing in the Pilates studio is hanging with my ankles in the fuzzy straps. Continue reading