Motivational massage...and then some

I have been losing weight. Yep. I'm pretty proud of myself, too.

I made a deal with myself when I started this whole food-deprivation and physical exertion "journey" that when I lost 15 pounds, I would reward myself with a 30 minute massage. So I weighed on Saturday morning, and guess what! Woohoo! 15 pounds gone!

I already had an eyebrow waxing appointment at the salon/spa down the road, so I figured I'd check their available openings when I got there. They happened to have an opening that afternoon, so I went ahead and paid for my massage and then went home to change into appropriate massage attire (t-shirt, yoga pants, and flip flops).

I got back to the spa about five minutes before my appointment, and they sent me upstairs to wait on my masseuse, P. So I went upstairs, parked myself in the comfy chair in the waiting room, and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, about 15 minutes past my appointment time, I asked one of the nail technicians if she knew where P. was and wondered if maybe P. didn't realize that I was up here waiting.

Five minutes later, P. busted through the door, all apologies. She said that she thought my appointment was for 30 minutes later, but she'd be ready for me in just a second. She started hustling down the hall, but then came back a second later and said "What is your birth month?"

"Um...June," I said, wondering why she needed to know.

"Yes, yes," she nodded enthusiastically. "Ok. So...I have scents to choose from. Tangerine? Vanilla?"

I said yeah, tangerine sounds good. She nodded again. "I thought so. Most Junes like tangerine."

Ooookay.

A couple of minutes later she called me back to the room and told me to disrobe to my "comfort level" (which in my opinion, really means - "please don't take your panties off. Please."), and that she'd be back in a few minutes. So I undressed and wriggled under the leopard print sheet in a hurry, because I'm always afraid they're going to bust in on me when I'm naked. Then I tried to relax, listening to the Enya-ish music and breathing in the Gemini tangerine candle.

P. came in a few minutes later, and asked me where I wanted her to concentrate the massage. I told her my shoulders were a little tight, and she told me to just relax all my muscles and she would get started. As she started to knead the muscles in my neck, she said "So...is this just a present to yourself today?"

I briefly explained my weight loss reward, and she squealed. I jumped a little bit - did I have a gross mole or something on my back that I wasn't aware of?

"Oh my God, oh my GOD," she gushed. "That is so great. I've lost 90 pounds in about a year and a half."

"That's great!" I exclaimed into the face pillow.

She then went on to detail her entire weight loss plan, complete with all exercise routines, food choices, and vitamins. Great. I was happy for her, but please - all this chattering was not helping me to relax.

She began to lean into my shoulders with her palms, and then suddenly I was aware of her face, just inches from my ears. In a shuddery whisper, very reminiscent of "Silence of the Lambs" ("It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again!"), she said "Oh my God. You're so beautiful."

Ok. I began to hear the theme from "Psycho" over the Enya music. I laughed uncomfortably and said "Wow. Thanks."

"No, I'm serious," she insisted. "Beautiful. Your skin! Your skin is so great!"

"...Thanks?" I said, praying that she would stop talking soon, because I'm pretty sure every single muscle in my body was tense by now.

She moved down to my legs and began to talk about her boyfriend that she was breaking up with that very night. She said that he was too cerebral and let his cat sleep in his bed and there was lots of cat hair. Ok. I started to zone out again - I didn't mind her droning on as long as I wasn't the topic. Then she drew in a huge breath and whispered again "Oh my God. Your legs...are so long."

"Yeah, I'm pretty tall." (6 ft. I know.)

"Your legs are...hold on..." I heard her counting, "32 inches! 32 INCHES! Oh my GOD. You are so BEAUTIFUL!"

Here we go again. I'm all about compliments, but I was beginning to envision this chick showing up at my apartment, waiting in my living room in the dark, and then saying "I will not be IGNORED, Amanda!!!"

Luckily, she calmed down after that and actually extended my massage time to 60 minutes because she was "so proud" of my weight loss. Which was nice. It really was. Even if I was a tad nervous the whole time.

But here comes the kicker for the session:

Towards the end, P. asked me to flip over on my back and began massaging my head. Suddenly, she leaned into my field of vision, over the top of my head, and said "Please close your eyes and imagine yourself achieving three goals for your life." I said ok, and then she began vigorously massaging my head again. She breathed in deeply and said "Dear Heavenly Father....we pray for Amanda..." and so forth. A whole prayer. While cradling my head, which was attached to my mostly naked body under a sheet. I think this weirded me out more than anything during the previous hour. Don't get me wrong - I think praying is great. I do it all the time, and the Bible says to pray without ceasing, but for some reason, I'm thinking this might not have been the best...venue.

Maybe I'll go for a pedicure next time I reach a weight loss goal...