No pain, no back hickeys

I believe there are certain signs of desperation that deserve our attention. I also think that rubbing your back up against the corner of your wall to get to a knot in your muscles that you can’t reach is one of them. Luckily, I know a massage therapist who lives on my street that comes highly recommended, so I paid her a visit. There’s something about getting naked in between warm sheets at your neighbor’s house that causes one to reflect.

[Digression: At this very moment my children are laughing over a booger on my bathroom floor. Sam says Drew did it. Drew says he didn’t, and defends that it’s not even a real booger. They were both laughing. I was not in the mood, and actually asked the following question in all seriousness and irritation, IS THERE A BOOGER ON MY BATHROOM FLOOR OR NOT????!! And then tried not to laugh. Back to the main topic…]
First of all, I wondered why none of the current presidential candidates have outlined mandatory foot rubs in their health care reform plans. Or for that matter, why hasn’t it been proposed as an obligatory ritual before UN meetings? If we could just get one undercover American to infiltrate Osama bin Laden’s camp and give him a good foot massage we would have world peace.

Secondly, I would like to know when “cupping” became appropriate behavior in the masseuse / client relationship. I specifically requested “no cupping” this time because of the stark recollection from my previous visit which left me with an allover back hickey. Not to mention it felt like someone trying to extract my spleen with a vacuum cleaner strong enough to suck up cement. She said it would be beneficial in my problem spot, so I relented and tried not to scream like a little girl. I wondered if Jack Bauer ever tried this technique on any of his enemies.

As I left she handed me some bottled water, told me to take a bath in Epsom salts, and to drink half my body weight in ounces of water. I fear this might drain my local reservoir. Doesn’t she know we’re in a drought?