The Saturday of No Standing

MOMMY was about loose her mind and we needed a day at the naked lady spa STAT! Unfortunately, because God hates us, our first attempt was thwarted by Aunt Flow with the red hair. We drowned our sorrows in a plate of Hawaiian fried rice then made appointments further on in the month; and THAT day had arrived.

It was 9 am! The doors had just opened and we were checking in. It is called the naked lady spa for a reason…. clothing is not an option in the bath house. Everyone is issued a towel, robe and cloth hair bonnet, identical hospital attire. There are doors on the toilet stalls…..and that’s about it. You gotta be REAL comfortable with yourself if you want in on this action.

Outside of the bath house are meditation and relaxation areas. AKA nap rooms. They are all at different temperatures, textures and sleeping arrangements. They have LuvSac’s,sand pillows,foot rests,head rests, blankets and just about anything else you would imagine curling up on or with. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH mazing.

For my “Sparkle package” it was required that I soak for at least 30 minutes in the hot tubs prior to the first service. Who would ever object to an appointment that started off with a soak in a hot tub? MOMMY and I soaked until “Tami” came for me at 10am; and we made plans to meet up at noon for lunch. OH yeah…. there is a tea room and café on site. I mean once get naked…you don’t have to get dressed again until you are ready to leave.

My first service was a body scrub. This involves naked me, atop a naugahyde “bed” and Tami in lufa mitts. Oh yeah! Shits about to go down. Face up, down and a stint on each side…she was getting all the spots. There wasn’t a dead skin cell that stood a chance against her tiny frame, black two piece and those magical orange gloves. In between each scrubbing pass she scooped up hot water and threw it on me; like when they are trying to keep sea animals wet during transport. There are 12 other ladies of various body shapes and sizes having the exact same experience so you just go with it. After the scrub, I was washed off with the softest lather you have ever felt; applied with what had to be angel wings because it is so fucking soft. Followed by one more round of warm water dosing and I was done. Took a hot steam after than then a long shower with their dreamy bath products. I put back on my asylum-gear and made my way to the other areas.

Despite barely being able to hold myself upright, I managed to make it to the meditation room. It was 80 degrees, had a huge LuvSac in the middle of the floor and a smattering of other soft things to lay on. I flopped right on the sac and passed out. Not the same kind of passing out as 2:30 am after girl’s night; more like a deep rest where you can hear what is going on around you, but you cannot feel your body. I laid there thinking, that maybe noon was too early for lunch…and hour later I woke up ready to tear into a plate of Korean Street Tacos! I wiped the drool off the side of my face, adjusted my pink and white bonnet and left to meet up with MOMMY.

After lunch we decided to do a bit more soaking. MOMMY was going to take a hot shower while I checked out the dry sauna. My next appointment was a mani/pedi, so I needed to be in a drier state. I went back to the other areas and flopped on the chez part of the waiting couch for my next provider to call my name. I was fed tea and sea salted caramels while the toes were twinkled and phalanges buffed in true spa fashion. Then of course back to the nap room to ensure that they are good and dry before attempting to get dressed.

An hour later I rolled over, opened one eye and said to MOMMY… “It’s almost 4. We might want to consider heading home.

I made it home and straight to the couch, heated the other half of my fried rice up from breakfast and turned the TV to Law & Order – SVU. Then waited for Hubz to come home and take me to Baskin & Robbins. It was a ROUGH day…but I feel so soft! Thank Goodness tomorrow is Sunday and I can sleep in 😊

How the curling iron stole my birthday

I bought the 1983’s thriller Christine version of a curling iron. I have burnt my shoulder, ears, cheeks, forehead, breasts and belly. You read right….belly. Doesn’t matter that said belly is 2 feet from any hair long enough to curl….I have burned it. I have also been known to burn my belly on a cookie sheet , hot out of the oven. What can I say? I have a thing for being topless when something hot is around. Now that you think of it….this does shed some light on my past dating life. Hmmmm Let’s continue with the original culprit…the curling iron.

Since I have done this more than a dozen times, the lecture from Hubz gets longer and longer each time. First it is…Oh my sweet! Does it hurt? Do you need me to get you to a hospital for proper dressing? Then right into the hilarity of the number of times we have had this same conversation. In between those two points is the decision of whether it is going to leave a scar, like the others and a recap of where the others came from. I have tried to cover them with hair and nightgowns, but they are eventually spotted so it is just better to face the music and get over it.

This was no different, in an attempt to straighten my hair while still softly curling the tips, I pulled a little too tight. When it reached the end of the hair, it SSSST (that is the sound of hot flesh on a 1” diameter Conair ) touched to titty. NO NO NO NO I said. Not again. Grabbed a cold towel, got an ice cube and even some Neosporin. I would have used peanut bitter or bacon grease, if you would have told me it might work. NOTHING is worse the shit I was going to get. Couldn’t escape…he saw it. I heard about it. We moved on.

Skip ahead 3 days to my birthday. I made plans over a month ago to spend the day at an all women’s, clothing not an option wellness spa. On the day of your birthday it is 50% off the admission, so for $27, I was going to enjoy steam rooms, saunas, float pods, whirlpools for as long as my raisening fingers and toes could stand. Woke up, had some coffee, nailed a phone interview and called the spa to double check the birthday discount and any time restrictions. At the end of the call, they gave their standard disclaimer schpeel:

Discount only good on the day of your birthday
All guests must be 18 years or older.
No garments, menstruating women or open wounds are allowed in any of the pools

Shit! The tell will have been my inability to get naked without doing the pledge of allegiance.


Hubz came home with a flat iron. I tried to tell him that it had nothing to do with the product…it was user error. He agreed but thought it would be easier to start with a tool that wasn’t so thirsty for blood.

Pay No Mind to the Panties on the Floor!

Last night was the company holiday party. I went all out and even wore actual NYLONS under my dress. My summer tan had officially faded and if I wanted to enjoy any of the outside activities…I was going to need all the protection from the cold I could get. My body style isn’t conducive to nylons; which is why I never wear the fuckers. My thighs rub together, creating so much friction that it causes third degree burns from the heat. I was going to chafe on my way out to the Uber.

Wait! This summer my new friend Jean told me about these chub rub guards. I slipped one up each leg and was given immediate relief. AMAZING. I put on my ruby red Wizard of Oz heals and dashed off to the event. I even wore coordinating necklace and earrings. I had been planning since February. I couldn’t wait to get there.

We chartered an Argosy ship to have dinner and ride along the Official Christmas Ship. It’s sort of a big deal in the PNW. This year, I hired a team to over see the catering and entertainment, so I could “attend”. Ya…tell the events and recognition person to sit back and watch. In no time, I was greeting guests and giving the quick layout of the boat as my team mates arrived.

There I was, standing next to the captain, greeting everyone and making my usual jokes and jabs. When out of no where….one of my thigh cozies falls down around my ankle. It was dainty and lacy so it could have easily been a thong…though to fit around me it would have to be six times the circumference. That was my only hope (cause no one seeing it wasn’t an option) please oh please oh please oh please….let these millennials know what a garter is.

With out skipping a beat, I dropped a Santa hat I was passing out on the dock, squatted to pick it up and shimmied it right back up under the dress….and continued on with my schpeel about where to get a drink. God could I have use one.

After that, the only hiccup was the caterer running out of protein, 22 minutes in to the chow line.

I did win an iPad Mini so it wasn’t all bad.

Just Peachy

Recently, our office was added to Peach’s delivery service. The idea behind this service is to put lunch options at your finger tips and a dedicated delivery driver. Selfishly, as the office contact, mine is usually free….but no one has to know that is the reason we signed up 🙂

After the team members text their selections, lunch is delivered at 11:30 am and they send reply text letting them know they can pick it up. It is a clever system. On Friday, no one saw the driver but we all got the text. Team members began to pool around my work area, sniffing for their food. About 3 minutes later, someone noticed the delivery bags sitting outside. Not outside our suite’s door….outside the door to the building!

You bet your sweet ass I was firing off a recap of the situation to our rep and company contact. I explained the building hours and hours when the doors are unlocked consistently Monday through Friday; and pointed out the fact that the driver simply assumed with absolutely no effort at all. Of course I also shared that this was indicative of a lazy emloyee, and should be terminated immediately.

Peach called me to say they were extremely sorry and being that this was against company policy, and they wanted to address it immediately. The rep went over the details of our account with me to make sure it was all correct on their side, before they took action with the driver. Brilliantly, they took pictures of the outside of the building, so the drivers knew what door to go to as well as instructions for where to put the delivery once they arrived.

I asked if more pictures would be helpful and she believed they would. I also asked of they would also like a video clip with instructions on how to open the front door…she said yes!! And that is exactly what I did. Along with the notes that if there is ever a legitimate need to leave our food out in the elements they call the CEO, prior to the bag hitting the ground.

Oh…and the lunches today were free 😉

Your free trial has ended.

I have been struggling with the content for this blog for a while now. Concerned that it has reverted back to more negative ranting than comedic posts. At one point I was having to write the night before to keep up the pace…and it caused me to resent the blog.

Also, I have funny things that happen all the time, just not anything I can write about. I am either not ready to share the truth with the world or I am self-conscious about who will read it. Is there someone reading it that I work with? Are there friends still reading it after the divorce? And will any of those potential readers start any shit in my life. Who knows?

Basically I am running out of clean, non-offensive, shareable stories. I am either going to have to come out of the closet, admit I have a night job where very little clothing is required or take a chance that my negative (but truthful) descriptions of co-workers will get out and I will lose my job AGAIN; OR come up with a different type of posting.

Should I do an advice column? There are only 4-6 people who read this on any given day; so it would be effortless for me to sit back and wait for shit they need my opinion on.

Should I lock it down? People would have to request access. But again, there are only 4-6 of you so it might just be faster to send an email.

Should I just stop? I hate to be a quitter but I need to figure out another avenue in order to save the interest.

I am going to get to thinking now. If/When I come up with something I will be back.

Going out of Business sale!

I regret to inform you that Verizon wireless is not longer able to financially support itself. It Is just a matter of time before you will hear it on the news and scramble for a replacement service.

How do I know this? Because my $218 was the only way they were going to be able to keep the lights on. It was so fucking important that they get this $218 in order to make payroll. Like $218 was the payment necessary to file for chapter 11.

Yes, I missed my payment. I forgot to send my check in to arrive in time to make the 9/13/2017 due date. Shit happens, life gets in the way and OCCASSIONALLY everyone misses a payment. I just fucking forgot! Simple as that.

Unfortunately, due to the enormous financial troubles from this fortune 500 company, this skip was causing a life and death situation. They sent me 3 emails, 5 text messages and called multiple times in a row for several days. The call was a recording so I didn’t listen to it….until the 4th call when I held for financial services…and stepped outside; This might get heated.

I asked her to please take a look at my 20+ years of payment history. I asked her to look at the payment date and tell me what the fucking emergency was. 21 fucking days overdue and you are threatening to shut off my service if I didn’t have payment to you in 24 hours? Who do you think you are? The only option for cell service?

I told her I would send a check IMMEDIATELY. I asked her if they needed me to send it overnight so they can have their money ASAP. She told me regular mail was fine, and I told her to note the account that the check was coming. When she recapped the notes, verbally as she was putting them on my account …”will be mailing the $218….”

OH HELL NO! STOP RIGHT THERE! I am going to send in the total amount due. September and October. There was no way I was going to expose myself to this kind of harassment over 21 days! If Verizon wireless as a whole is not able to sustain a business model because of a missing $218 then I wanted to make sure to send them a little in advance!! I told her to please put the notes in all caps that help is on its way!

When I got back to my desk I had another email and text message, thanking me for my commitment to send the funds. I replied, “you are so fucking welcome”. This morning I got an email and a text message, reminding me that I had made a payment commitment and let them know if I will not be able to make good on it.

So I sat down and wrote the damn check. I took a page of the bill and wrote in a huge blue sharpie that 21 days did not warrant this kind of harassment. I taped the check to it and folded it up. Then I took the payment coupon thingy and wrote a message to the person who was going to open it that I hoped that their last paycheck didn’t bounce; and stapled it to the other note inside. On the outside of the envelope I wrote the announcement that VZW was closing and taped it shut; along with the address window….I taped that to the payment coupon too.

I will only be late again, if they are not able to figure out my payment puzzle.

Back in the Day

Fuck I am old!

One improvement the world has made in since the 90’s, is the ability to find and purchase music.

I found myself telling one of those “back in my day” stories to the bartender of our new favorite hangout. We are around the same age, so she appreciated the trip down memory lane.

While listening to some jams in the bar, I heard a song that blew me back to 1993. At Roomies apartment in Factoria, lights out, Christmas lights around the ceiling, Boys in the Hood on the TV, OE bottles everywhere, next to the boom box kissing the boy I had had an infatuation with for the past year. I remember DESPERATELY wanting to know what that song was. Obviously, I needed get this tape so I could listen to it over and over in my room until the it died. DUH!

Again it is 1993. There was no world wide web to search partial lyrics. No amazon, iTunes or streaming music of any kind. I had no idea who sang it or where to find it. We had Blockbuster music, Tower Record and silver platters; if I wanted to buy it new or used….but WHO.

Like a year later, I found out; but was not able to find the album anywhere.
Our love was surely going to die without this melody. Despite the fact that there was no us, he still didn’t know I wanted to marry him, hardly came to hang out and I didn’t have his pager number.

When I heard it last night, opened iTunes, slapped down my 99 cents and added it to the sexy time play list; Like a boss. Lover boy isn’t the only one who’s going to feel the heat of that song 😊

Dictionary –

OE – Old English 800 Malt Liquor. Mainly consumed 40 oz’s at a time

Boom Box – A large portable stereo, usually carried on the shoulder.

Pager – a small battery-operated communication beacon that clipped to your side belt. When people called your number they would be able to provide the number to call them back at.