Spa-rring Partners
Not being too big of a "Valentine's Day" type couple, Amber and I decided to just get massages at a spa up in Valencia on Tuesday afternoon. We'd split the cost, enjoy a day of relaxation and call it a holiday. Yes, while my friends and family were battling freezing cold back home in Boston I got to enjoy 70 degree weather and some woman rubbing all up in my biz'niz for 80 minutes. Such are some of the perks of living in Southern California.
I had only had a professional massage once before and it was on a cruise. It was pretty good from what I can recall but this one was freakin' amazing. Eighty minutes that zipped by like about five. From all of my work on computers, I have what doctors might call a pretty "fucked up" neck and back. I have some nerve damage in my arms and sometimes get a case of the tingly fingers so bad that I think I'm having a heart attack. So instead of just the normal 60 minute massage we got an extra 20 to focus on the neck and back.
Amber assured me that it was OK to go au natural underneath the robe but I was a little worried that George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars might somehow poke out of the towel or make an embarassing appearance at one point. Safe to say, there were no incidents and my giblets stayed where they belonged.
The massage was awesome, though. I had two huge knots in my back right underneath the should blades and good lord did the masseuse go to town on them. I think Lady Macbeth had an easier time getting that spot of blood off the back of her hand. They finally popped it clean though, through a mixture of intense pain and sweet, sweet relief. I could barely walk afterwards I was so relaxed so I just headed, zombie-like, to the hot tub and chilled out there for awhile.
I think I need to do stuff like that more often.
I had only had a professional massage once before and it was on a cruise. It was pretty good from what I can recall but this one was freakin' amazing. Eighty minutes that zipped by like about five. From all of my work on computers, I have what doctors might call a pretty "fucked up" neck and back. I have some nerve damage in my arms and sometimes get a case of the tingly fingers so bad that I think I'm having a heart attack. So instead of just the normal 60 minute massage we got an extra 20 to focus on the neck and back.
Amber assured me that it was OK to go au natural underneath the robe but I was a little worried that George Clinton and the P-Funk All Stars might somehow poke out of the towel or make an embarassing appearance at one point. Safe to say, there were no incidents and my giblets stayed where they belonged.
The massage was awesome, though. I had two huge knots in my back right underneath the should blades and good lord did the masseuse go to town on them. I think Lady Macbeth had an easier time getting that spot of blood off the back of her hand. They finally popped it clean though, through a mixture of intense pain and sweet, sweet relief. I could barely walk afterwards I was so relaxed so I just headed, zombie-like, to the hot tub and chilled out there for awhile.
I think I need to do stuff like that more often.
