Things that don't make sense, but do

1) Watched Across the Universe last week and fell in love with it, despite not really being able to follow the storyline (although this might have been due in part to the margaritas consumed earlier at happy hour after an afternoon of climbing, rather than any gaping plot holes) (no, I'm sure there were gaping plot holes).  I don't care that the story was a bit contrived, it made me love the Beatles again.  And I thought that was an impossibility at this point.

2) Spending maybe 20 minutes total on the Brazos River trying to figure out how to work a sit-on-top kayak, never falling in but still ending up soaked, and declaring it a successful kayak trip.

3)  Seeing massage business dwindle for the summer and, instead of freaking out about the lack of income, celebrating all the days off to come.  Feel free to come back and call me a fool when I write the Post Full of Panic, ETA: July.

4)  Planning a 3-day (and very expensive) trip to Chicago mostly to spend a day at the Taste, something Monk and I used to sneer at when we actually lived there and could travel to it for the $3 subway fare it might have cost us.  Also will be spending 2 of those days with my parents, despite not having actually spoken to either of them in about a month.  Oh, the joys of family drama.

5)  Going to the dentist after 5 years (FIVE YEARS!  The shame!) of avoiding it, only to discover not only are my wisdom teeth staying in, but I still do not have any cavities... And spending the next couple of days being prouder of that accomplishment than my college degree.


Highly Recommended

It may not seem like the brightest of ideas for someone with zero experience to embark on an un-mapped float route on an unknown body of water, in a two-seater kayak with a friend who reveals over dinner that he has, in fact, only been in a kayak twice before (and not once in a tandem boat).  

But if you want to increase the Dumb Factor even more, you may want to add the condition that the kayak must enter the water well after the sun has set, only a sliver of moon shining down on you... and that you head for the nearest channel-masquerading-as-bayou (to which you have been cheerfully directed by what appears to be a homeless man fishing off the bank with a blue glo-stick pole) to spend the next three hours filled with mysterious splashes, dangling spider webs, birds posted like sentinels on half-submerged stumps, and other various things that go bump (against the boat) in the night.

But it can be a really great way to pass the time on a Wednesday night.


And the acoustics were... amazing

I reported for duty the other day at a routine chair massage job. Despite the unpleasant surprise of a one hour drive each way (mmmm, increasing gas prices), I was in good spirits. Showed up early, greeted the job contact, and then was told they were short on private areas for the massages but the woman eagerly told me she’d come up with a solution. We rounded the corner and my steps slowed with dread as she assertively guided me towards a door, saying proudly “I think this will work just fine.”

I spent the next three hours in a tiny bathroom, door propped open to allow for some much-needed ventilation, stubbing my toes on the base of the toilet, with only a fax machine and copier for background music.

People, I tried, as a massage therapist, to be zen about the whole thing. I reached deep down for my sense of humor, less deep down for that bit that’s motivated by money, texted some friends to report the horror, and still ended up questioning whether this was a new low in my new-ish career, or just a one-off.

As I raced home to get to the gym with my brother I decided to take it as a life lesson, file the company name away in my head and just avoid another job there the next time it came up. Brother and I had a good workout, filled each other in on the events of our day so far, pounded out some of the aggravation, and headed down to the pool. Unfortunately when I met him poolside to prepare for some laps, it turned out he had forgotten to bring his suit with him.

“I can’t believe I did that. I SWEAR it was in my bag this morning,” he said in a small voice, and I could see him beginning to beat himself up about this minor mistake.

“No big deal,” I reassured him. As he turned around to go back into the locker room I walked over, patted him on the back, and added rather philosophically, “Hey, some days everything goes smoothly… other days you find yourself massaging next to the toilet.”

And you know, a shared smirk can be all the zen you need.