Chag Sameach to all of my Jewish friends out there! Hopefully you’re making it through the long week of chol hamoed. I myself have eaten almost a pound of cream cheese in a day, so that should tell you how that’s going…
My parents and my grandfather came down to visit me for Pesach and I hosted the sedorim (is that how you pluralize in English? I didn’t get past HEBR112). Needless to say, my Mom was thrilled that she was actually hosted and not a slave in her own home, as she has been for the past twenty some years. I decided to coincide this with her Mother’s Day gift since she’ll be in Israel for the actual Hallmark day. Because I love my mother and the great value of an Internet coupon, I got her and myself massages at an Eastern medicine place in Rockville through a Living Social deal.
I’ve never had a massage before. I never really liked it when people massaged me. It’s not that I’m scared when people touch me. I’m one of those creepy huggers who will announce ‘huggsies’ for no reason at all and just dive in there. Also, to emphasize points, I will frequently smack people around with what I deem to be playful punches. Liquor me up, and I’ll dance up on anyone. Great, now I just sound like a aggressive pervert. Regardless, that’s not why I’ve never had a massage. Perhaps it was cost prohibitive or perhaps I’ve just never felt like I’ve deserved one. Or, the thought of being face down on a table with lotion put on me sets off my creeper trigger. It really could be any of those.
Anyways, before I delve into issues I only tell my therapist, on Tuesday, Mom and I made the fun trip up I-270 to check it out. I had booked a 90-minute massage plus acupuncture for myself and was seen first. While I’ve never had a massage, I’ve had acupuncture a handful of times. I went into an office for an intake and was shown these maps of the human bodies with certain points and lines on them. The doctor explained to me that they were called meridians and each point corresponded to a variety of energies that would be tapped into by the needles. She said that these treatments help with ‘energy, digestion, headaches and fertility’. Like the wiseass that I am, I told her I didn’t want too much help with my fertility and started to laugh. She told me to be quiet and respect the thousand years of tradition of the medicine. This wouldn’t be the first time I was told to shut up by an Asian woman that day.
I went into a room, where I laid back and had my back poked with needles. Not that I’m a drug addict or something, but I actually am enthralled by needles. Whenever I have to get blood taken, I watch the procedure like a sadist. It’s just kind of cool, I can’t explain it. I probably had more needles in me than Kurt Cobain did and was told to lie back and relax for a bit. Maybe it was the incense or the gongs chiming in the background or maybe one of the needles hit a vessel and I was slowly bleeding, but I passed the hell out. I was exhausted. That’s how I realized I relax. I just work and work and work until something forces me to fall asleep. Usually it’s not perceived exsanguinations though.
Roughly 30 minutes to 30 hours later (I have no grasp of time in Rockville), my doctor came out and whisked out the needles. I was told to flip over, relax and wait for Jenny, the woman who was going to give me a massage. My doctor actually put pillows under my legs and fluffed the one under my head. I may have sworn off opulence a week or so ago, but this felt pretty damn good.
Jenny arrived about 10 minutes (I think) later and I was back to being facedown. Because I love to talk and was nervous as hell during this procedure, I asked her all about massages. Then, I started getting meta-massage. I asked her if she ever got tired and if everyone around here gives each other massages at the end of the day. Then, who gives those people massages? WHERE DOES THE CHAIN END! Surprisingly, I was told to be quiet and try to relax. Again.
For the first 15 or so minutes, I was in pain. I couldn’t understand why people clamored about massages. Jenny found every spot that hurt on my body and drove at them with a harder fist than Chairman Mao. I had to fight back tears when she pummeled my shoulder blade into submission. Every time she said ‘Oh, here’s another sore spot’ I cringed. It was like seeing a list of charges when I got my car’s brakes fixed. At some point, you just give up, submit to the pain and just hope everything gets taken care of. About halfway through, it started feeling all right. I may have been paralyzed a little by those spinal contusions but I was okay. I would never call this relaxing, since I felt a bit like a veal cutlet being tenderized, but it wasn’t excruciating. I was surprised how much strength came out of this tiny woman. It inspired me that maybe the best upper body workout for me wasn’t kickboxing and lat pulls but Tai Chi and a bowl of rice. Okay, now I’m getting offensive. But she really does Tai Chi.
I’m probably not getting one of these again. While it felt nice, there’s no way I can legitimately spend $100 a week when playing with puppies makes me just as happy and energetic. Still, I drove home and felt invigorated. Whereupon I promptly drank a bottle of wine that night and passed out. That’s just how life goes.
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