Saturday 25 April 2015

Jess observes 24.04.15

1. I went for a massage today; I had a voucher for a local day spa that I have been meaning to cash in. I was really looking forward to it - it's like an acceptable grope fest and they make me feel wanted. 
2. I'm not great at relaxing. It makes me on edge. I checked in to the "day spa" (does this imply that some spas house you for longer periods? Like a month spa or year spa? Sounds lazy) and had the usual therapist conversation where we both pretend to have higher-than-average pitched voices and no local accent. She took my vouchers and told me to wait upstairs for someone called Lauren (masseuses are usually called Lauren or Jo). Cool beans. I sauntered through the building to the beauty bit and passed some rich folk who were spending the day lounging around in towels doing fuck all. 
3. Arrived at the beauty bit. It was called Experience d' Gino di Campo or something. It was empty, so I took this opportunity to mentally check-in with my bladder/bowels o verify that they were happy with being prodded for an hour. They were fine. I gasped at the array of beauty products and skin creams that were displayed in the beauty bit; they were very glossy and very expensive. I wondered if they worked. I'm always sceptical on high-end ranges; the packaging themselves looked costly and I'm unsure on the merits of a face cream (Whip de Visage) that was made with dirt (Nutri-Mud from the Homosapian Earth Fjord). 
4. Lauren rocked up and she also had a squeaky mouse voice. She was nice and told me to take all my clothes off. No foreplay or anything; she cut right to the chase. She told me that she would leave the room and I was to lay on this bed on my front with a towel pulled over the top of me. This is quite hard to do. I think I re-positioned several vital organs and a rib trying to do it. 
5. Lauren came back in and I said "I got a voucher for my birthday" before she had chance to ask the inevitable. The music came on - all Ching-Ching and wallows. She squirted something void into her hand and started feeling me up. It was nice. I said something wanky through a mouthful of tissue (my head was stuck through a paper-punched hole) like "Cor, that smells noice" (my regional dialect had returned with my emerged nakedness) and she said "Mmmmm". I shut up after that. 
6. She kept moving my shoulderblades to varying foreign parts of my body; I know some people dig that but it was a bit unpleasant. I felt like ping like a bin-lid slamming. 
7. I then remembered my pants. I had some really crap knickers on. All holey and grey and elastic fraying. I mentally chastised myself for not wearing those posh ones that Kevin bought me that actually only look nice when I am laying down. 
8. After about 15mins, I opened my eyes, still head-through-hole and started to make shape formations with the stuff that I can see on the floor. If I squinted my eyes a bit, the couch leg, a wire flex and the edge of the towel that was draped over me formed half a face. When squinting a bit more, the eye of the face closed and then opened again. I started a little mental game with this face to see, on opening my eyes suddenly, if face had eyes closed or open. This game got a bit boring after 30-secs or so, which was just as well, as Lauren started jigging the towel around and it felt like she has exposed one of my legs to earth. 
9. "wow!, said Lauren, you are *obviously*  very active and sporty. Your legs have total muscle definition. You must be an athlete of sorts! You are truly amazing!" Thankfully, I did actually anticipate this reaction to my Adonis stature so battered off her lesbian advances with grace and modesty.
10. that bit ^^ didn't happen. It was clearly not evident that I did any exercise at all and all that racing about has actually made no difference to my physique. 
11. This massage was making me feel guilty. This lady was working very hard to make me feel relaxed. It didn't feel right, like, a bit immoral and a piss-take. 
12. I left the day spa light-headed. It was a nice experience and she did a great job. I loved it. I passed the rich couple again in the reception, still mincing around in their towels. I might book the fella and I in. I might even wear my nice knickers.     

Thursday 9 April 2015

Today's observations 09.04.2015

It's been a while friends.
1. Half Term. It's my first real long one; I'm new to being a mum to a pre-schooler. Anyway, I was a little miffed to see that, on the last day of going to school, Annie didn't bring home a leaflet from the teachers telling us what we have to do during the school holidays. *I* don't know what to do. I can't remember what we did before. Our chunk of  school run and class time routines have been quashed for a fortnight and I'm all mixed up. The teachers didn't tell us what to do and I am all confused. Teachers: in future kindly use some of your spare time - perhaps in your own evening time - to create unimaginative parents like me a "Fun Things to-do whilst Teachers are not babysitting for you" list. Feel free to substitute "Fun" with "Cheap", "Indoors", "Dangerous" or "Pub-friendly". Many thanks. 
2. I'm still not used to the qualification of "term-time"; predominately "in-term", "out of term" and "half term". I don't get it. Let's just call it "2-weeks off", shall we?
3. I note that kids are not going back to school until Tuesday. It doesn't escape my attention that teachers will be getting communally squiffy on this Monday free day. I'll find you out. 
4. Went to a big local farm place today where lots of middle-class people go. You know the one. It has a pride-clothes shop and expensive placebo sausages. The delightful combination of it being cheap, kids being on the hols, it being situated on the edge of a large Ipswich housing estate and the sun being out meant just one thing; There were a lot of kids there. Hugo, Popsy, Buffy and Maude were in abundance and so were their clueless shrill parents. 
5. I'm pretty clueless too. I spent most of the time aimlessly shouting at my kids to stay with me (I have lake phobia at that place) when I could have helped the situation by dressing them in dissimilar clothes to what all the other rodents were wearing. Like a gimp suit or nazi attire or something. Not only would I have been able to locate them instantly, they'd pretty much have the play area to themselves.
6. I know this is a common gripe. I know it's been done before. I'm sorry to harp on. But get your ** teenager off the play area. My "slap-hand" was itching. A lot. 
7. One teenager actually let me smallest down the slide ahead of him and I was so impressed and temporarily aghast that I actually squeezed his hand and smiled. 
8. So now I am the weirdo mum who poaches middle-class teenagers at local family establishments. 
9. Picnic etiquette. I like to see what everyone else has got. The family next to us had a bowl - like a proper big salad bowl- full of leaves, pomegranate and olives. They'd also brought a really rustic looking baguette too. They were well showing off. Their kids didn't eat it either, the wankers.  You can tell I got really close to look into their bowl of delicatessen wonder. I tried to avoid eye contact for fear that they felt social fulfilment in their ridiculous picnic choice. 
10. Kids just got onto sofa and a ton of sand fell out.