Thursday, July 8, 2010

A Day at the Spa (part 2)

D-day Aug 5, 2007: I spent the entire morning getting myself ready and packed Maya's diaper bag with two extra complete changes of clothes (just in case), a variety of snackies - cheese cut into cubes, animal crackers, and washed grapes all individually packed in little Ziplock baggies, two sippy cups - one filled to the brim with watered down juice, the other filled with milk, a few toys for entertaiment, a bib, some wipes, her bum cream and of course, diapers and handed the arsenal to Kumar to bring with him to our friends' place where he would be hanging out with Maya, while I got spoiled and pampered. We set off to the spa's downtown location and immediately upon arrival, I bid my hubby and little girl goodbye and without missing a beat, happily skipped over to the receptionist's area and presented the pretty girl dressed entirely in black, my gift-certificate/passport to bliss. Soon after, I was met by another girl also dressed in a smart black suit who entrusted me with a little golden key and led me to my private "room" for the day. It was rather modest in size, occupying about the same area of my workstation. Before writing this post, I had actually asked yesterday one of our construction project managers, Moreno, to eyeball and give me a rough estimate of the square footage of my cubicle but being the greatand not to mention handy pm that he is, he immediately produced a measuring tape he had on his person and actually measured away. It came up to approximately 70 square feet. At any rate, the room at the spa was perfect with it's beautiful built-in in vanity table. There I changed out of my clothes and got into the plush, oversized, white bathrobe and slipped into the equally plush "pantoufles," checked out the little bottles of freebies :), gave my refection in the mirror a once-over, went out, locked the door behind me and slipped the golden key into the deep "SD" monongrammed pocket of my bathrobe and proceeded to the beautifully decorated waiting area, helped myself to some cranberry juice, took a swig, plopped myself onto one of the comfy couches and perused the lunch menu. I was rather worried that their healthy offerings might not satisfy my voracious breastfeeding mom's appetite and almost regretted not having Kumar swing by McDo's drive thru for a Big Mac on the way, but finally decided on having Gravlax with cream cheese on a 12 grain bagel with red onions sliced into rings topped off with a couple of capers, garnished with a sliver of lemon & a sprig of dill, and a Mesclun salad on the side, all to be washed down with some "blossom" tea. Now blossom tea is not an actual flower (so don't go cutting some peonies now to submerge in hot water to go with some scones at high tea!) but is actually an age old Chinese art form involving the sewing together of regular tea leaves into a tight little bud that unfurls as it is steeped. It is indeed beautiful, but for some odd reason all I could think about was how it eerily resembled a peyote button. I wondered, this has got to be the way the real, adulterous, self-indulgent, desperate and filthy rich housewives deal with the emptiness they must feel from leading lives devoid of any noteworthy and meaningful contribution to the betterment of society but immediately stopped myself on that thought, since after all, I wasn't there to wax opinionated but to relax. So I finished up the rest of my plate whilst catching up on the latest fashion trends with some glossies, and then waited for the aestheticican who was assigned to me. In a short while, another pretty girl who introduced herself as Francine, arrived and led me to a dimly lit room which this time had a shower head, tiled flooring and a drain and was furnished with a bed. Here I was given some funny disposable undies to wear and was given instructions to lie supine on the bed until she returned, to which I somewhat reluctantly complied. I laid there, waiting and craning my neck towards the door to listen for some footsteps audible above the lapping wave nature music. And after what seemed like the awkwardest eternity, Francine came back with which appeared to be a fondue pot of chocolate, which was heated up to the ideal temperature, set it down beside the bed and suddenly broke out a spatula-like implement, dipped it into the creamy, warm chocolate, and began to expertly and thoroughly spread the decadent stuff all over my body, in exactly the same fashion I would frost Maya's Duncan Hine's cupcakes but minus the rainbow sprinkles that my daughter absolutely insists on! Aaaahhh, I then knew how it felt like to be an animate, yummy, multi-tiered Devil's food cake! In an attempt to break the ice, I thought I'd engage in some small talk, and asked her what the chocolate was good for. She explained to me that applied topically, it had cleansing properties, clearing up blemishes, it stimulated circulation, leaving skin glowing and was obviously aromatherapeutic. Contented with her reply, but still left slightly wondering whether this exercise was worth the waste of otherwise perfectly good and edible chocolate that was making Montezuma as I always say, roll over in his grave, I shut up, and just basked in the remaining glorious moments and after Francine had coated me completely with the chocolate, she went on to wrap me up in plastic to "trap in my natural body heat" and let the stuff do it's magic and left me all alone again straightjacketed that way for a good 15 minutes. No, I'm not claustrophobic so I had not problem being bound up like that, but it's only during occasions like this or when you're getting a manicure that you itch up a storm, of course! It's got to be psychological, I swear! So there I was stuck with this dreadful itch in my back with no way to reach it. I was inching precariously closer and closer towards the edge of sanity when Francine finally arrived just in time and unwrapped me and instructed me to rinse off to which I readily this time, obeyed. I lingered a bit under the spray of warm water, and with my new-found freedom, scratched my itching back with gusto and watched the eddying brown (chocolatey!) water swirl down the drain.... be continued....

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