butt massages
April 09, 2003 at 9:01 a.m.
I think I'm sick of answering the question "how's your wrist?"
It's a well-meaning question, but it drives me batty for 2 reasons:
1. It's NOT my wrist. I have tendonitis from my forearm into my hand. My wrist doesn't even feel that bad. The searing pain in the left side of my hand is bothersome, as well as the intense owies from my arm, but it's not my wrist. Sheez.
2. If I knew how I was, I'd be a lot happir. My doctors don't even know my name. They don't give me any prognosis or help. So I can't TELL you how I am because I don't know. I know it hurts though and I miss the violin so much I could scream.
Maybe I should get that printed on a t-shirt?
So my parents came into town this weekend and it was extra nice. Mommy snuggled with me all Saturday night, Dad took us out to Red Lobster (The yummmiest biscuits EVER!!!!) and they took me grocery shooping and bought me a GEORGE FOREMAN GRILL!!!!!!!!!! The SUPERCHAMP Chrome model!!!!!!!
You have no idea how much grilled chicken and quesadillas I have made lately....
But the best part was being loved for a whole weekend. Dang I miss them. They take care of me and just LOVE me. Reva misses that. I can do my own thang all day long but at the end of the day, I just need to be loved.
They also brought me this fancy-schmancy massager. The idea is, if I release my muscles enough in my back, my arms should improve. Or at least, not get worse.
I took it over to B's the other night and got the biggest kick out of watching him and his roomates give each other butt massages. Hey! The butt is a muscle too! And it feels dang good!
The only thing is, I mentioned that in my Alexander class yesterday and they felt that that was TMI (Too Much Info). I disagree. That class is where we're supposed to connect with our bodies and get a greater sense of them so we can conduct them better... and if we're not talking about butts I think we're missing out, babe.
I just don't see that as inappropriate. But then again, I rarely do. I like to think of it as one of my charrrrrrms:) The kind that snags men.
Like a certain male of the below the US border nationality in the Circle K parking lot who gave me his phone number the other day...
He was a scary boy, but I must say I left feeling validated. I mean, I'd been at school all day, looking/feeling ragged, and yet he hit on me. hmmmmm hmmm.
The ol' girl still has it.
and her hand has tendonitis that HURTS so this typing thing must be a mistake.
so SUPERCRACK is outta here. Smoooooches!