Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Deep tissues.

OK, just want to throw out that I'm really proud of this blog title. REALLY. PROUD.

See... last week, I decided to treat myself for my birthday. I thought, "Hey Patty, it's me, Patty. I think your 25th year was a pretty good year. You worked hard and did a lot of things. You deserve a nice treat for your 26th birthday!" So, I booked a 60 minute deep tissue massage at a nice spa in my neighborhood. Of course, my first mistake was booking it for 10am on the morning of my birthday and didn't think I might be out drinking the night before. Which naturally I was. Why wouldn't I be? It was the opening night party for our new show and everyone in the company was together - why wouldn't we go out drinking?

I showed up and was ushered into the spa and shown around. Who the F was I to deserve such a fancy place? They had unlimited tea. And water. And a "zen lounge" and fancy lockers and towels and bathrobes and Core Fusion classes. There was even some sort of room where you could hang out on heated surfaces in a robe and just sit and be hot. I mean... can you imagine? No responsibilities but sitting there and being hot? Amazing.

Naturally, I was confused by everything. So instead of putting my stuff in a locker and putting a robe on and waiting in the Zen Lounge for my masseuse {don't worry, I want to punch myself in the dick for that last sentence, too}... I kept my clothes on, my bag on my shoulder and read tweets anxiously while waiting. My masseuse came to get me and asked, "Are you not going to put a robe on?" and I said, "I'm confused. I'm dumb. I'm sorry." So she showed me around... again. This time, I was less nervous and listened more carefully and put a robe on and felt really awkward and uncomfortable. I decided then and there that next time, I'd go to some shitty place in Chinatown with a sign I couldn't understand and pay $50 for someone to walk on my back.

When I eventually got to my room, I realized how awesome this was going to be. Very rarely do I get to lie down on my stomach, covered by way too many sheets with my face stuffed in a weird pillow with a FACE HOLE! What a life!  My masseuse {dick punch} was shocked that for my first spa experience I'd be getting a deep tissue massage. She thought my birthday massage should have been like a calm, relaxing one. Calm? Relaxing? I don't do things like that. I told her that I was always in pain. She asked, "Where?" I emphatically said, "EVERYWHERE." Which is true. I injured my back doing yoga. I have weak joints, bad ankles, high arches that throw my whole body off and there are tiny monsters that live in my calves. Oh, also I choose to disregard taking care of all of this by wearing inappropriate footwear and continuing to work out even though it leaves me disabled every single time.

The massage itself was awesome. It hurt, of course, but it was awesome pain. And she told me I had as many knots and problems in my back as I thought I did. She even said that my injury was pretty serious and I shouldn't do any activity where I have to lift my arms over my head. So there goes my part-time acrobat career! She also said I had more knots in my legs than she had ever seen. She said, "It's almost like you spend your entire day in a squat." So, I've got that going for me!

After I was done, my masseuse {still gross} told me to hang out in the Hot Room {it has a real name that I don't know} or go to the sauna. I did not feel as though those were things I could do comfortably. What if someone tried to talk to me? I'm getting nervous just thinking about it. I ran out of there, got a coffee and sat on a bench on the waterfront with the neighborhood crackheads. Much more my style.

I spent the rest of the day sore and tender. Then I spent the entire night on my feet performing. Then drinking. Then the whole next day performing. So, basically, all the benefits of the massage were pretty much cancelled out.

Moral of this story? Get a massage on your day off. Or like, the beginning of your weekend {which happens to be the beginning of my work week.} Also, get a massage! They're awesome and worth every penny. Also, don't wear heels all the time, it ruins your body. Also, I'm still going to wear heels. Also, still proud of this post title.

1 comment:

Lindsay said...

I got my first (and only) massage on my honeymoon last year and quickly determined that I am not the right type of person to get massages. I also was confused when they showed me the lay of the land, handed me a basket, and basically left me for dead in a room full of naked women. At least, that's what I think they did, but who the hell knows, I don't speak Mexican.

When I actually got my massage (as part of a couple's massage) I could not turn off my brain. My inner monologue was like "why are they touching me there/where are they touching me next/omg you're too high/...and that's my buttt/wait my husband is over there/are they touching his butt?/wait i'm supposed to be enjoying this/but seriously, that's my butt, don't touch it/don't touch his either" and BAM. Massage over.

So basically... I understand.

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