Good Afternoon.
It is an amazing feat that I can actually sit here and type today, since I participated in the most expensive form of torture, yeah - I paid for it; known to man kind last night. I decided to endure a 90 minute session with a little Ninja Japanese lady called Ileen. Reason being that I am sick to the back teeth with trying to ease the pain of my right shoulder with a highlighter pen! Strange but true - I used to alleviate the stabbing sensations with a ball hammer, when in the landscaping business, but since I am now in a position which requires lots of sitting one's arse with a pen pot of deliciously different writing implements in fornt of me I have progressed onto the good old luminous yellow marker.
I was listening to my pregnant friend Fiona talking about her Carpol Tunnel Syndrome the other night over dinner and began to wonder if I was either a) expecting or b) overdoing it with the old mouse. It is definitely not the first presumption as I have been in a moaney biatch the last few due to a pending menstruation (sorry). Ninja woman said it is the intense mouse action I participate in for 7 hours a day.
I will now try and explain to the best I can (with as little mouse maneuvering as possible) the agonizingly awful experience I had at the 'Face and Beauty Works', I know it sounded fabulous to me too (yesterday evening).
Firstly I perused the menu and decided that $110 for a 90 min session of deep tissue sports massage therapy would be sufficient, after all I am not an Amex Black Card holder yet (give me time), and even though I do need a serious bikini wax - the $85 sides, round the corner and tush wax was gonna have to wait (birthday treat). A tush is an ass for those of you wondering - I had to ask ;-). Then I was asked to sign my life away by means of a waiver form, I panicked when I was asked to give my next of kin. What exactly could happen in this softly lit candle cleptomaniac's dreamboat of a salon? Maybe I was coming to a massacre parlor instead of massage palor, well, I am living in San Francisco after all.
I drank a glass of water - By order, then took my kit off and waited face down on a bed of white fluffy terry-towel clad gorgeousness. Waited, waited, then began to crap my pants (well, I wasn't wearing any but you get my drift).
ENTER THE NINJA.
My pain is on my right shoulder - RIGHT? The left one was pulverized first. I am sure her teeth were grit tight, like she was trying to open a beer with her pearly whites. This hurt - like a white pain, that's all I can say. Like a red hot poker stabbing into the depths of my flesh, like a small golf shoe clad fat dwarf jumping up and down then stubbing out a cigarette on my shoulder. You know just a little bit of pain. Tough Northern lass like me could cope with it. I was asked several times over if it hurt. Once I regained consciousness, I told her it was the sort of pain one likes, you know means to an end and all that jazz. I nearly fell through the floor when her attention focused on the shoulder in question, the one which had survived ball hammer and highlighter blows for the past two years. Friggin hell fire. Boy did it hurt. The pain is worse than a migrain which is self induced after a bottle of tequila (the hangover on 5th July springs to mind - note to oneself - DON"T do that EVER again). It was really painful. But I survived.
The rest of the full body massage went well. My arms and legs were pulled, distorted and squashed, no pain there then. I was wondering how long this had actually been going on, as I seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. I though my time must be up by now. Oh no. No, no, no no. It was back to the little shoulder problem... 30 more minutes of intense agony. Followed my a nice glass of H2O and a chat on stretches and how to position my PC screen. All I really wanted to do was get up and run for the hills. I could not however as I was naked and immobile, my muscles had all died and gone to heaven. It actually felt really good once I'd got over the initial shock of it all. I wish I could say the same for the day after.
I have done nothing but moan, groan and bitch all day. My Step dad thinks it is hilarious especially since I am trying to claim the whole procedure on company expenses. Work injury right?
I was recommended to go back once a fortnight - Like hell. Yeah and at $110 a pop I bet Ninja Bonce would like to see me again. No I think I will stick to my new swimming regime and the towel behind the back stretches she showed me. I am seriously considering hair removal creaming the old bikini line, I am not sure I dare set foot in that place again.
See Ya x
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Flu Pooh
Hello - I am sick. Yeah, yeah I know what the comments are already. Not in the head, you know physically, feather up the nose, cheese grater in the throat, elephant on head type of sick. Ill to you Brits, sick to my neighbourley Yankie Doodle Dandies.
I moved on Friday and have not unpacked yet. I stayed in bed feeling sorry for myself all day and even my Mother, who now lives a mere 30 miles from my house as opposed to 6.5 thousand miles did not even bother to come and visit with home comforts. A hug would have done. Maybe the menapause stops one feeing any form of compassion. I don't actually recall her approaching me for a hug in the past few years. I usually have to rugby tackle her for a snuggle.
It is shite being ill on your own in a foreign country, cann't even speak to my girlies in Europe due to the seeming unfair, conspiracy against Jo eight hour time difference. It is times like this when you feel a tingle of homesickness.
It is my man's fault I have the lurgy, and yes he knows it. He is still recovering from a three day off-sick-a-thon and had to work a silly 24 hour day with 3 hours for dinner, so I reckon he has it a wee bit tougher than me. But I am a girl, and going against all my independent woman traits, I do love a bit of sympathy when I cannot even manage a cigarette. I suppose it's not a bad thing I have not had a fag in 4 days or more, maybe I could finally quit. Watch this space.
I am sat in my newly built local library, which is utterly brilliant. There are over 100 PC stations all with 20" screens and a 2 hour minimum, no booking bollox time slot. Much different to librarys in England, where there is a Hitler type of elederly volunteer gleefully telling you that you can use PC number 2 for 5 seconds befor a bunch of school kids take over to play a Grand Tarismo tournament. Also one can take out 50 items at a time, including free DVD's CD's and the latest Mags. I am impressed. However there seems to be the same noise policy as there is in the cinema here. Basically shouting on your mobile phone is OK, in fact I would say you could have a confrence call in here and no one would bat an eyelid. I Pods seem to be attached to the ears of any kid 6 months and up; I am sure the volume set so loud will eventually burst their little precious ear drums. Does this mean we will all be shouting at each other in the next 30 years, even if we don't have old-age as an excuse? I wonder...
I am impressed with this place and it was a toss up between joining here or the gym tonight. Don't think an hour listening to pumped up twat in a leotard telling me about the various body busting machines I'm never gonna use would have been half the fun.
OK better get off - hopefully to get a but of sympathy for my sniffly nose and annoying cough.
I miss you all and really do hope you are feeling well.
I moved on Friday and have not unpacked yet. I stayed in bed feeling sorry for myself all day and even my Mother, who now lives a mere 30 miles from my house as opposed to 6.5 thousand miles did not even bother to come and visit with home comforts. A hug would have done. Maybe the menapause stops one feeing any form of compassion. I don't actually recall her approaching me for a hug in the past few years. I usually have to rugby tackle her for a snuggle.
It is shite being ill on your own in a foreign country, cann't even speak to my girlies in Europe due to the seeming unfair, conspiracy against Jo eight hour time difference. It is times like this when you feel a tingle of homesickness.
It is my man's fault I have the lurgy, and yes he knows it. He is still recovering from a three day off-sick-a-thon and had to work a silly 24 hour day with 3 hours for dinner, so I reckon he has it a wee bit tougher than me. But I am a girl, and going against all my independent woman traits, I do love a bit of sympathy when I cannot even manage a cigarette. I suppose it's not a bad thing I have not had a fag in 4 days or more, maybe I could finally quit. Watch this space.
I am sat in my newly built local library, which is utterly brilliant. There are over 100 PC stations all with 20" screens and a 2 hour minimum, no booking bollox time slot. Much different to librarys in England, where there is a Hitler type of elederly volunteer gleefully telling you that you can use PC number 2 for 5 seconds befor a bunch of school kids take over to play a Grand Tarismo tournament. Also one can take out 50 items at a time, including free DVD's CD's and the latest Mags. I am impressed. However there seems to be the same noise policy as there is in the cinema here. Basically shouting on your mobile phone is OK, in fact I would say you could have a confrence call in here and no one would bat an eyelid. I Pods seem to be attached to the ears of any kid 6 months and up; I am sure the volume set so loud will eventually burst their little precious ear drums. Does this mean we will all be shouting at each other in the next 30 years, even if we don't have old-age as an excuse? I wonder...
I am impressed with this place and it was a toss up between joining here or the gym tonight. Don't think an hour listening to pumped up twat in a leotard telling me about the various body busting machines I'm never gonna use would have been half the fun.
OK better get off - hopefully to get a but of sympathy for my sniffly nose and annoying cough.
I miss you all and really do hope you are feeling well.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Moving House
Hello.
Long time no contact, but I am a lazy dog. With far too much to do than sit around and blog. Not that I don't love ya, love writing or love wasting valuable work time, guess it's the new boyfriend taking up all my time ;-) Hello Charles.
I am moving from the not so clean South of Market neighborhood in San Francisco, farewell to my lovely roomie Mike and his adorable dog Frida and the girls (cats) Fatty and Retardo. I am not sure if I will see the girls to say goodbye properly since they have been banished to the outerwilderness which lays in wait beyond the back door, all because they insisted on lounging around on the new sofa all day. What is a cat supposed to do? Apparently a mouse has been half eaten and our friendly neighborhood rat Roland has been seen carrying a spotted hankie on a stick. So it's all about the circle of life, and today my cycle into complete dementia is turning a new trajectory. I am moving to the 'burbs. To San Mateo. Which is the 1st place my Mother lived when she moved out here in 1989.
I have a studio room, so a big garage with beamed ceilings and a separate loo and sink. Then I have access to the main house where my new roomie Annie lives.
It will be a change for me living with a girl. Let's just say it's best I am in my self contained unit for what will probably be most of the evening as the last time I shared with a girl, Danielle it ended in disaster all over a ripped skirt and a missing earring. Or was it because she was insanely jealous of my new squeeze at the time, or just something to do with the walls being ice cream cone thin? Anyway I have not lived with another female for at least 8 years. My that is a long time, did not realise until I started doing the math.
Can you believe it is September? Which means another birthday is looming, always seems a depressing thought when one's single, selfish and solito (thought I'd throw a bit of Spanish in for the 3rd s, just so you know I have not lost the nack). Anyway I need not worry about another birthday alone. As I have already mentioned I am 'going steady' with an extremely lovely gentleman. He is in computers, like 40% of the population in NorCal, works in SF and lives in Daily City. Which for those of you who don't already know is probably the most foggy place I have ever been to, and I grew up near the Yorkshire Moors.
The relationship is heading in the direction I am in favour of, which makes a refreshing change, but as always I will say no more just In case AmericanPsycho tendencies rear their ugly head. You can never bee too careful. Obviously being absolutely careless for the past 31 years makes me qualified to spout such words of wisdom. He is helping me move in fact, so I know he's a glutton for punishment - will do for me then!
It is really warm here still, though I'd throw that in for you lot in the UK. What's the score with Blair then? Did you hear about Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter/Saver Extrodinnaire - OK that's as far as my tribute goes. We all know he was a complete and utter freak. End of.
Hummmmm, what more can I tell you?
Oh yeah, I am looking forward to my mate Mike popping across the Altantic to see me in October, and also my mate Vickie is popping over to, with her family, on a road trip. They will be swinging the Winnebago through San Fran so I am looking forward to seeing them all. I like the odd visitor. Not too many though - don't start booking en mass. I am sure I will have lots of pics from their trips, sop I will keep you posted.
Until then, don't swim with a stingray, and don't shove your tongue as far as you possibly can down Bush's pants, you will end up dead or wishing you were.
Goodnight.
Long time no contact, but I am a lazy dog. With far too much to do than sit around and blog. Not that I don't love ya, love writing or love wasting valuable work time, guess it's the new boyfriend taking up all my time ;-) Hello Charles.
I am moving from the not so clean South of Market neighborhood in San Francisco, farewell to my lovely roomie Mike and his adorable dog Frida and the girls (cats) Fatty and Retardo. I am not sure if I will see the girls to say goodbye properly since they have been banished to the outerwilderness which lays in wait beyond the back door, all because they insisted on lounging around on the new sofa all day. What is a cat supposed to do? Apparently a mouse has been half eaten and our friendly neighborhood rat Roland has been seen carrying a spotted hankie on a stick. So it's all about the circle of life, and today my cycle into complete dementia is turning a new trajectory. I am moving to the 'burbs. To San Mateo. Which is the 1st place my Mother lived when she moved out here in 1989.
I have a studio room, so a big garage with beamed ceilings and a separate loo and sink. Then I have access to the main house where my new roomie Annie lives.
It will be a change for me living with a girl. Let's just say it's best I am in my self contained unit for what will probably be most of the evening as the last time I shared with a girl, Danielle it ended in disaster all over a ripped skirt and a missing earring. Or was it because she was insanely jealous of my new squeeze at the time, or just something to do with the walls being ice cream cone thin? Anyway I have not lived with another female for at least 8 years. My that is a long time, did not realise until I started doing the math.
Can you believe it is September? Which means another birthday is looming, always seems a depressing thought when one's single, selfish and solito (thought I'd throw a bit of Spanish in for the 3rd s, just so you know I have not lost the nack). Anyway I need not worry about another birthday alone. As I have already mentioned I am 'going steady' with an extremely lovely gentleman. He is in computers, like 40% of the population in NorCal, works in SF and lives in Daily City. Which for those of you who don't already know is probably the most foggy place I have ever been to, and I grew up near the Yorkshire Moors.
The relationship is heading in the direction I am in favour of, which makes a refreshing change, but as always I will say no more just In case AmericanPsycho tendencies rear their ugly head. You can never bee too careful. Obviously being absolutely careless for the past 31 years makes me qualified to spout such words of wisdom. He is helping me move in fact, so I know he's a glutton for punishment - will do for me then!
It is really warm here still, though I'd throw that in for you lot in the UK. What's the score with Blair then? Did you hear about Steve Irwin Crocodile Hunter/Saver Extrodinnaire - OK that's as far as my tribute goes. We all know he was a complete and utter freak. End of.
Hummmmm, what more can I tell you?
Oh yeah, I am looking forward to my mate Mike popping across the Altantic to see me in October, and also my mate Vickie is popping over to, with her family, on a road trip. They will be swinging the Winnebago through San Fran so I am looking forward to seeing them all. I like the odd visitor. Not too many though - don't start booking en mass. I am sure I will have lots of pics from their trips, sop I will keep you posted.
Until then, don't swim with a stingray, and don't shove your tongue as far as you possibly can down Bush's pants, you will end up dead or wishing you were.
Goodnight.
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