I wanted to take a minute to say “Thanks!” to all the people who replied to my prior post about needing victims for massage practice. A couple of people asked for permission to refer to it in their journals, which was terribly nice of them, and I have been overwhelmed with the number of responses I have received. I’ve exchanged emails with a whole passel of folks, and have made appointments with a few of them (It seems to take three or four exchanges in email before a date can be nailed down).

So, thank you to all who replied.
Thank you to those who referred to my post in their journal, expanding the audience even further.
Thank you to one person in particular who was willing to vouch for me as being trustworthy.

I understand and appreciate what a vulnerable thing receiving a massage can be, and that some people are willing to trust a total stranger, and an amateur at that, makes me feel terribly grateful.

I’m still trying to catch up with the deluge of responses. If you haven’t gotten an e-mail yet, I appreciate your patience. I’m workin’ on ’em, in between doing massages.

Cheers

For those of you who are local, I’m looking for willing massage victims again.
I’m taking Advanced Massage, another 125-hour massage class, and as part of the class I need to perform 20 practice massages. Any one interested in playing victim? I’ve done this enough that I’m confident that I can deliver at least a relaxing, enjoyable, soothing massage. And if you have something specific that’s bothering you, let’s talk about it and I’ll see what I can do.

Drop me an email if you’re interested and let’s see if we can arrange a mutually workable time.

Thanks!

Note that Bush seems confident that American forces will be able to find Saddam and Osama, despite a stunning lack of success thus far.

Meanwhile, Bush seems unsure whether his own investigations will find the person(s) inside the White House who leaked the identity of an undercover CIA officer, whose husband was critical of the Bush’s administrations intelligence on the threat posed by Iraq.

Color me shocked.

Saw this online, and felt like sharing.
Grand Theft America
Vote, dammit.

A friend recently asked me for some movie recommendations. Do I acknowledge far too much OCD if I mention that I keep a list of all the movies I’ve watched? 🙂 I have a good rationale for it, really! Oh well, that’s a story for another time.

Anyway, I went digging through the list and came up with some interesting and eclectic choices. It’s been forever since I wrote in this blog; I figured this would be a good excuse to share. So, here’s a list, in no particular order and with a bare minimum of commentary:

Twin Falls Idaho
Punch Drunk Love – ignore that it’s starring Adam Sandler. Honest.
The Basketball Diaries
Ravenous – a Civil War-era western, vampire movie. No, really.
Wonder Boys
Glengarry, Glen Ross
Titus – Anthony Hopkins doing Shakespeare
The Lion in Winter
City of Lost Children
Delicatessen
Secretary
Fight Club
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen
12 Monkeys
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
Trainspotting
Snatch
Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels
Clerks
State and Main
The Big Kahuna
Election
Rushmore
Grosse Point Blank
Grifters
High Fidelity
Short Cuts
The Player
The Sheltering Sky
Raising Arizona
Barton Fink
Fargo
The Big Lebowski
Memento

One more note: If you rent DVDs, and you don’t already use Netflix, what on earth are you waiting for?

I seem to have a tough time convincing people of this, but I am a confirmed introvert. I don’t have a massive network of friends, I don’t enjoy groups of strangers, I don’t get a lot of energy from crowds, I have a tough time meeting new people and I tend to be all-around fairly shy. And it’s somewhat of a self-perpetuating state; don’t get out much, don’t meet many new people, fewer opportunities to make new friends, so fewer excuses to go out much. I’m not complaining, mind you, it’s just the way I tend to be wired.

But, I swapped comments with an LJ’er in her journal last week, re-examined her LJ info, saw some things that interested me, and after a couple of exchanges, asked her to lunch. Imagine my shock when she said yes!

Lunch was today. She was a delight to talk to, and we hit it off rather well, I thought. We had lots to talk about, and a bare minimum of awkward pauses. Turns out she took a class at the same massage school I’m attending at present, which was quite coincidence. A few minutes after we marveled at that, she mentioned that she was going up to Portland next week to see some friends, and I replied that I was going up the week after that to see friends. We paused for a beat to look at each other and then started naming names. Nope, no names in common. 🙂

Anyway, great lunch, which I’m hoping to repeat before too long. What a terribly pleasant way to push one’s boundaries. If you’re reading this, thanks, Steph! Hope you enjoyed it too!

There’s a Far Side cartoon; a dog is leaning out the back of a station wagon, barking at his dog friends next door. “…and after we go to the drug store, I’m going to go to the vet and get tutored!”

Today’s the big day. snip, snip!

Think kind thoughts for me.

I just realized, it has been easier for me to stop watching television cold turkey than it has been for me to stop using cotton swabs after I shower. “Around the outer surface of the ear”, my ass. That gentle scratching inside my ear, it’s the after-dinner mint of the shower experience.

I finished the 125 hour massage class a few weeks ago, and segued directly into an Anatomy class that I’m really digging. Towards the end of August I’m doing a two week sailing course as a refresher. And then in September, I start the next big massage class. Can’t sleep, clowns will eat me.

In the midst of this frenzy of classes, yesterday was the much-anticipated Cadaver Lab. I walked into it expecting to be really creeped out, but the class was actually fairly straightforward. The freshest body was at least a year old, and they had all been fully dissected and peeled open. I don’t know, somehow that made it easier. Maybe because the bodies seemed a little less… human. It was fascinating to see how the muscles look with no skin over them. Somehow, the nice neat drawings in the books don’t really do the body justice.

Part of what I’m learning from this series of massage and anatomy classes is that I’m a very tactile learner. So, being able to reach in and actually feel the muscles was a really great experience for me.

However, I am finding that the “creepy” feeling I expected to have during the class is coming on strong post-class. I don’t know, something about the experience was really disturbing. I didn’t expect the muscle tissue to all look so much like… meat. Dried out, dehydrated. Jerky. Smoked meat. Gack. I had a salad for lunch. I’ll probably have another salad for the next meal. It’ll be a while before I have barbeque again.

Last weekend, dear friends DMO visited me in Cupertino. At first, the timing of the visit sounded great. Weather would be nice for sailing, I would need to get in some more practice massages for the end of this class, everything would be groovy.

But then the date got closer and closer, and the timing started to look worse and worse. Work was at a fever pitch with lots of late night and weekend work. The marina was closed the weekend of the visit. Things just weren’t lining up. But oh well, there was no way to change the dates and so, we’ll just make the best of it.

So, I worked a bunch and when I wasn’t working I spent time with them. At one point, M asked “So, do you spend your entire life just rushing from one thing to another?” Heh, no, only when things are just bug-fuck busy. I whined about the marina being closed and the dock master offered to let us sail on Monday. Yay! As bad as work was, I would move heaven and earth to take the afternoon off and take them sailing. D used to have a sailboat and has been jonesin’ for a sail for a long time now, so I knew he was especially eager. The only challenge was O. He’s a nine-year-old boy, capable of being fairly demanding, and not particularly open to new experience. But, I tried to stay open-minded. I did, really. About the only constraint I laid down was that I didn’t want to only have one adult with O. If I was at the tiller, I needed one assistant, and then one other adult to ride herd on O. Deep in my heart, I was hoping the decision would be made to leave him at home; we had a couple of different scenarios for that. But no, D & M decided to bring him along. Ooookay.

So, I come racing home from work at noon. We load into the car and drive ~40 minutes over the hill to Santa Cruz. We spend 15 minutes rigging the boat and 20 minutes sailing out of the harbor.

When we came out of the harbor mouth onto the bay, it was clear this was going to be great sailing conditions. Winds at about 15 knots and steady, some waves but no hard chop, 75 degrees, sunny… just gorgeous. The wind was some of the best I’ve had on the bay. Harbor seals were playing all around us. I started heading straight south out to the mile marker.

And almost immediately, O started wailing. The boat leans! The waves move! I hate boats! I hate water! Turn around! Go back! Aiiieee! I gritted my teeth and waited to see how D & M would handle it. For about three minutes no one said anything and we just listened to the growing volume of crying and wailing. Then D started trying to rationalize with O. Yes, rationalize with a crying child. Good plan. So, after five minutes on the bay, we turn around and head back to the harbor. No, doing a jibe in a hard wind didn’t make him cry more, why do you ask?

So, back into the harbor, drifting to the dock in stoney silence, 20 minutes. Of course, as we’re drifting back in, the dock master came by in the whaling boat, filled with kids from his sailing class. I ask him what is the age range of the class. Eight- and nine-year-olds.

Another 15 minutes to pack up the boat, 40 minutes to drive back over the hill. Wherein I went right back into work, cursing and grinding my teeth.

You know how things have different names when you’re on a boat? Ropes are called lines, the bathroom is a head, the kitchen is a galley. You know what kids are called on a boat? Anchors.

So, frustrated at O, and irritated with D & M for talking him into something they should have known better about. And peeved with myself for not putting my foot down and insisting on a plan for success. Oh well. I’m over it now. No, really, I am.