Well, I’ve had my first massage, and I lived through it. Now, many of you who know me are aware that I have an extremely large personal space, and also some touchy-feely issues, so this was a pretty big deal.
I’ve had a big knot of stress living in my back for quite some time, and two little knots joined it when we braved the terrible roads to Missouri. Hot baths weren’t cutting the mustard, and a massage sounded great. Brad is a massage expert, so I asked him to go along and get one, too – as my Mr. Miyagi of massage.
Brad went first, then it was my turn. It was…. alright. Kevin was chatty, and I was nervous so I was chatty right back. After talking to him for a whole hour I think I now know him better than Brad or Lloyd. He worked on my non-sore side for a long time, then when he got to the sore side he touched the spot by my shoulder blade and asked, “Is that your knot?”
Me- “Yes.”
Kevin -“It’s a good one.”
Me- “Thanks, I’ve been working on it for months.”
He spent the whole rest of the time trying to work the knot out, which is what I wish he would have done that the entire time. All in all, I feel better.
Wait – I forgot the two worst parts. The second worst part is that you are resting your face in a padded toilet seat (a very nice, freshly wrapped-in-soft-cloth toilet seat, mind you) for an entire hour. Your nose gets stuffy, then really stuffy, then almost drips, so you start breathing through your mouth and then there is the awful possibility of drooling. Closing your mouth to swallow your drool causes your nose to make honking and squeaking sounds. Lovely.
The worst worst part is that after you are done resting on your 40-year-old skin for an hour, your face becomes permanently creased.
Yes, I highly recommend a massage. If you’re in your twenties.