Monday, January 10, 2011

Dear Susan,

How's it going pet? Are you as frazzled as I am, in the middle of packing boxes, bubble wrap and tape that won't unstick from your fingers? Have you settled in to "Beige Watch" yet? Haven't thought of a name for my new unit but I'm sure Adrian will come up with something. Don't know about you, but seems like we haven't had time to breathe in the last six months. That will all be rectfied when we get to spend 168 hours at "Aquaserene". I'm going to breathe then like there's no tomorrow.

Took your advice and did something for myself today. Was good, maybe you should try it. Last time for me was an afternoon in 1979 when I locked myself in the toilet at home after telling Rosie Josie and Eloise to go play on the freeway for ten minutes. Shortest ten minutes in living memory. Anyway when Josie and Tallulah came to stay with me over Christmas they bought me a Hot Rock Massage as a gift for having them. Like hellooo.... the presence of Tallulah isn't present enough!! So today I went to the newly opened Thai Massage Spa for my Hot Rock Massage.

Maybe I read more into things than meets the eye but how come if I go to the local day spa I only run into female clients, and any self respecting bloke wouldn't be seen within a spit of it. But when I got to the "Thai'd Up" Spa today it was full of men. Should I have been nervous? What was going on behind the bamboo blinds and why did Mini seem alarmed to see me? Well as it turned out all was ok. Mini took my voucher and introduced me to Jenni who took me to my enclosure.

"Take off crose and put under bed. Here is cap for hair and disposaboo undies. Rie on your tummy and I be light back." I looked at the 'disposaboo' undies which may have fitted a Barbie doll if she weren't retaining too much fluid, tried to slip one leg in, then disposed of them.

I'd never had a Hot Rock Massage so while Jenni was gone I snooped around for some clues as to my fate. There was a George Foreman Slow Cooker- like appliance labelled Massage Rock Heater in texta. Inside it I could hear the rocks bubbling away like Vesuvius.

Jenni came back and commenced basting me with oil. I had this vision of the oil , hot rocks, banana leaves and a pit where I would be buried until I was medium rare or "dry roasted". Jenni was not as mini as Mini but she seemed quite petite until she started crawling up and down my back on her hands and knees. Four crushed ribs and a fused vertebra later she opened the all purpose George Foreman appliance. Apparently the soup was cooked and the rocks were ready. She spooned them out on to a towel which I can only assume was made from asbestos.

The blindfold was preventing my seeing what was happening but I think Jenni picked up a rock, threw it from one hand to another, singing Hot Potato Hot Potato like a Wiggle, dropped it and started massaging me with her hot hands. I can tell you when physical contact has been denied one for a length of time having one's back massaged with hot hands can be quite agreeable. But then she picked up two rocks and let me tell you, rock on flesh is nowhere near as 'agreeable' as flesh on flesh, especially when the rocks are still glowing like embers from a fire walker's bed. But hey I needed this massage so much I didn't even notice the smell of burning flesh. I used to have a back massager made out of wood which had two rolling balls attached to an axis of evil. But then we got divorced so I have to take what I can get when I can get it.

I soon got used to the pattern though; oil, hands, hot hands, rocks; oil, hands, hot hands, rocks. In fact I was beginning to sink into a coma except for the Tibetan Meditation Drums and the water feature which was determined to keep me aware that my bladder was full. Then Jenni placed a rock in each of my hands; gave a whole new meaning to having one's palms 'read'.

Her last treatment was to place several hot rocks on specific parts of my back to rid my body of toxins (and skin I assume). I tell you, by the time she removed them I'd never been happier to get my rocks off.

It really was a very relaxing experience and I love Josie and Tallulah for gifting it to me, (like the new verb?) Have decided I might treat myself to a massage more regularly. Do you remember the ones we used to have in the Korean Bath House where the hostesses used to giggle at us behind their hands because they'd never seen red pubes before. Seems years since the bath house closed down. But at least when we go away to "Aquaserene" we can relive some of the hightlights; body scrub, oil massage, honey and grated icy cucumber masks. I'll do yours if you do mine. But don't tell Adrian; he'll want to come too. This time I'm bringing the George Foreman Slow Cooker so we can gather some river rocks heat them up and eat the soup when they're cooked.

Can't wait. How many more big sleeps?



Sunday, January 2, 2011

Dear Susan,

Happy new year. Tried to ring you last night but I have a new mobile phone and haven't done the advanced driving course for it. Consequently I kept getting a computerised voice saying "You're an idiot" every time I tried to communicate with the bloody thing.What is it with technology? As far as I'm concerned, with all things in life, SIZE DOES MATTER. I used to have trouble seeing the numbers on my phone, now I have trouble seeing the phone; especially when it is in the bottom of my handbag. I reached in to grab it the other day and pulled out a moss covered Tic Tac; same size different function.

When I have my phone on the seat of my car it tells me where I am. I have trouble with an appliance that knows where I am before I do. I don't know "when" I am though, because I haven't learned to set the internal clock which can tell me the time in Lithuania; very convenient. Don't know how to set the alarm either so I will still be late for everything.

It has other functions, like a phone book which stores 1000 phone numbers. I don't have that many friends. In fact I can actually remember the phone numbers of people who are important to me. So I don't use that function button either.

It has a designer screen saver. I have designed a screen saver which has four smiley faces on it . Then when I turn it on and see the smiles, I forget how much I hate the appliance.

The messages button allows me to write messages, send messages, create picture messages(no artistic talent required) design templates (WHAT?), add smileys to messages or get information. It also has a service command editor. Yesterday I commanded it to reconcile my cheque book and it said "You're an idiot"

It also has a 'chat' button which I consider redundant since that's what I like to do on the phone; and I've found if I listen for a dial tone, punch in the numbers and talk when the person answers, it usually works for me.

The call register tells me which calls I've missed, which calls I've received(d'uh) which numbers I've dialled, how long each call lasted and how much it cost; a little more information than I need.

The ringing tones can be set to play the William Tell Overture, I Just Called To Say I Love You or just brriinng brriinng. I opted for the last one; I like my phone to sound like a phone, not the sound track from Moulin Rouge. It also has a vibrating alert which is off putting when you carry it in your pants pocket.

I can divert my calls to somewhere else apparently, but why would I send my phone calls to somewhere I'm not?

Then there's the game function. I don't know anyone who is so bereft of amusement that they have to resort to playing a game on their own with a phone; although it could be interesting if it incorporated the vibrating function.

I can work out my disposable income if I turn on the calculator button; but I can also do that by checking the loose change in my purse.

It even has a reminder button that will remind you to do things like change the sheets on a particular day, but I've already marked June on my calendar for that.

The profile button I have't worked out yet. I think you can punch in a profile of say, Angelina Jolie and take it along to your plastic surgeon who will try to match it as closely as possible.

All in all it's a versatile little machine but I'd just like to CALL someone on it. I'll have to read the destruction manual again and try to get back to you. In the mean time I might go back to old fashioned snail mail.

Love to Adrian

Love Janet

0876 456 398