Specifically those attached to shoulder blades.
Back in September, I introduced you to Julie, the masseuse who managed to beat me to a pulp with her deep tissue massage. Well, I found another gal who is smaller. And stronger. And although she was gentle and I didn't hurt at the time...I awoke this morning feeling as though my shoulders were those of a linebackers. After a hard TwoaDay practice on the blocking dummies.
Yesterday we celebrated.
It was a wonderful friends birthday. Not just any birthday, but her 40th. A big number in the world of women. So a few of us planned her a little surprise.
Getting her husband involved, we planned to swing by early morning unbenounced to whisk her away for a day of beauty. At least we thought we were sly, but dear Melissa is a smart one, so she probably had it figured out ahead of time and just allowed us to believe we had pulled this off. Eileen spearheaded this effort with Christine, Kathy, Gretchen, Ellen, Leslie and myself all jumping onboard to partake in the festivities.
One complete day spent lounging in plush white terry robes in a darkened room with comfy couches and chaise lounges with attendants coming to escort us to various rooms of spa wonder. All interspersed with glasses of mineral water and champagne.
Spa West in Westlake, Ohio is a place that I've never been to before. I'd heard of it, I'd seen advertisements and I've even driven by the facility, but I'd never been a client.
I may never, when treating myself, go anywhere else ever again.
We started our treatment day at 8:45am. Standing in the lobby of the spa, we gave the hostess our names and instantly our coats were exchanged for mugs of coffee or glasses of sparkling water. Once we were all accounted for they opened the magnificent carved wooden door that led to the inner sanctum of the treatment area.
At first sight I thought it was an infinity hallway. All tricked out with mirrors to give the illusion of never ending linear walls. But no, the hallway actually was made up of door after door after door of treatment rooms. Along the walls were recessed cubicles highlighting rich oil paintings framed in opulent gold scroll. Amber glass chandeliers every six feet dimly lighting the warm Italian adesia slate flooring.
The effect was instantly relaxing. Like in a dream, it was one of ambiotic bliss.
Traditionally on someone elses birthday you give a gift. You normally don't partake in said gift. But Eileen said that this day was a day 'for the girls'. As she so eloquently put it when making the arrangements for this extravagant spa day, "We all deserve a day off, damn-it."
God Bless you, Eileen.
You are truly a genius.
Yanna was a little Russian girl, slight in stature with a mild, soft voice. She had the slightest of accents. She came to our enclave and called out my name, "Naaannnnzzzy. Pleazzze. Follow me." We walked down the opulent, glowing hall and finally reached a room on the right. "Pleaze.", she gestured for me to enter, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll return in a moment."
This room was just as beautiful as the rest of the building I'd seen thus far. The waterfall faucet and vessel sink. The heavy channeled glass shower door and slate tiling. The amber chandelier. Even the upholstered chair in the corner for me to place my robe was gorgeous. My mind started tallying the cost of fixtures alone. Cha-ching. There was some major dosh put out building this place. They didn't cut costs, that's for sure.
Throughout my hour and half long relaxation massage (no more deep tissue for me, thank you very much) I learned much about this young lady. She has lived here for 13 years, her fiancee lives in Avon Lake, she's been engaged for just 3 months and is planning a trip back to Russia to visit family next summer. She grew up outside of Moscow and although she is visiting some family, she was wondering how to get away and actually do sightseeing as it's been so many years. She had been so young when she left, her memories of Russia are few. She has a dog, Maximilian, that is a two year old Golden Retriever that has a fondness for leather shoes. She doesn't eat fish but has a love for Thai food. Green is her favorite color. She only asks to do relaxation massages and likes to do them with a firm hand but prefers doing facials. She enjoys her work. Skin is fascinating to her. She also has a fish.
That's a lot of information to gather during a massage, isn't it. Now, do you also remember me telling you back in March of last year how people have this strange inclination to talk to me? One of the other ladies in our group also had Yanna as a masotherapist after me. She commented that she found it odd that the young lady hardly said a word.
Hmmm. Interesting. You might have thought the conversation distracting. But her banter didn't disrupt my relaxation process one bit. In actuality it made me feel a little more comfortable. I enjoy silence, but had I not heard the sound of her voice, I might have drowned in the unavoidable drool massages bring on. Or at least been embarrassed by it. Nothing like leaving a little pool of spit for your masseuse to clean up after you leave.
Little Yanna did a most excellent job working out the kinks of stress that has been building in my muscles. It felt and strangely sounded like popping bubble wrap as she worked out the pockets of tension. It really did feel heavenly. And when I returned to the ambiance of our waiting room, I felt like a linguine noodle cooked al dente.
More lounging followed between services in same room with champagne and finally with everyone reassembled we vacated the spa. Heading over to Crocker Park's Cheesecake factory we all had martini's, lunch and dessert. A stop at Sephora, the make-up haven for us product whores, and then onward for some enjoyable, but not needed, shoe shopping.
- Shoe shopping
- Birthday gathering
What an absolutely perfect day.By the time I made it home late that afternoon, packages in hand, muscles expertly kneaded, I would be hard pressed to recant a nicer way to spend a Saturday afternoon. There's just something about the bond of female companionship. Something special. Something sublime. That's probably the reason why so many books are written on the subject and so many movies made about it.
So Happy, happy 40th birthday, Dearest Melissa!
Thank you (although you really had no choice!) for allowing us all to join in the celebration of your birth. As we left our soiree yesterday afternoon, we pledged to make this a yearly event. Personally if that' the case, I can't wait until her 41st.
And truly, I mean that.
I can't wait.
I've already booked another appointment with Yanna.
You see...I didn't get the name of her fish.