Is it too early for cocktails? Maybe but today I am the featured blogger at SITS.
SITS (The Secret is in the Sauce) is a female blogging community built to support us and help us support one another as bloggers. If you are new to blogging, or new to SITS, go visit and see what a great resource Heather and Tiffany have built. And welcome to the cocktail party, SITStas. I am so glad you are here.
As my bio indicates, this blog focuses on sharing observations on life, culture, parenting, relationships, and news. As well as all kinds of antics I have seen or experienced. For example? Well, let's get down to the wiggle...
On a ski trip to Vail with some girlfriends, I was reminded that a week in the delicious snow is always a good idea. And these girls knew how to maximize the hours and fill them with as much fun as possible. After multiple days of skiing and beverage consumption, I needed a long nap or at least, some down time. My friend LK comes up with the genius plan to skip the lifts one day and instead, spend the day at Sonnenalp in the spa. Count me in. And how.
I love massages and go as frequently as I can. There are numerous things about deep accupressure to be praised. Massage is good for the body and for the soul. So, after spending an hour or so in the sauna and steam room, breathing in the heady fragrance of eucalyptus and rinsing out countless sips of Fat Tire Golden Lager, we robe up and wait for our therapists.
I am soon greeted by an incredibly handsome man. My primary interest in the massage therapist is massage and massage technique. However, he was so handsome, my friend LK wanted to trade. On the spot. While I do not go to the spa with lascivious thoughts or the underlying theme of ‘happy endings’ perhaps I can't say the same for LK. He laughed and told her she would just have to make another appointment.
I am face down on the table, shrouded in sheets. He begins to work his magic. I am not a chatty chatster during my massage appointments. It is likely the only time I am truly quiet outside of sleep so I make it count. I am being prodded and kneaded. I am on the verge of blissful relaxation. Until this happens:
While I am face down, he does the origami sheet trick so that my leg is exposed but none of my lady bits. He clasps my foot and in the motion of lifting my entire leg off the table, he begins to wiggle it. More than a little bit. In fact, its wiggling so much I began to think he might be trying to jump rope with that thing.
Does it hurt? Not a bit. But spinach in your teeth doesn't hurt either except it's not that pretty to look at, is it? My issue is purely aesthetic. Unless your rib-to-knee area is made of lonsdaleite which is the hardest substance on earth. Or made of diamonds, which are much prettier, maybe the lower torso wiggle won’t be an activity you sign up for readily. Was I being vain? OF COURSE. Of the two people in the inky dark room, only one of us even cared.
Vain or not, do I want my arse and thigh shaken as if they were a pair of dice held by an enthusiastic man with a pile of money riding on a Craps table knowing if he wins Chesty LaGoGo might become his new wife? No.
And while the wiggle le jiggle was going on, I only wanted it to end. As in let's not wiggle it, even a little bit. Nothing about your leg being whipped around like an al dente spaghetti noodle has any appealing allure. Oh, and it doesn't help you relax.
After that, we worked into some hot stones. Much better. Afterward, LK asked me how it was. I told her she should definitely make an appointment with him. And since I was already not relaxed, I couldn’t wait to get back to the slopes AND another pint of Fat Tire.