Massage me BRUTALLY

I was given this beauty for Christmas and man was I excited. It's got everything. Heated, vibrating seat, 3 individual back massage settings with heat and 2 settings for neck massaging. This thing is loaded!

I am very hopeful that it will help work out all of my kinks (at least in my neck and back) and that I'll be able to move somewhat normally. I mean, how could it not help  me? It's the Cadillac of chair massagers!











Once I found out that this fantastic marvel of technology would be mine I had the arduous task of waiting for it to be delivered. I waited and waited and waited and the waiting made me more and more tense because I was dreaming of a day when I would be somewhat discomfort less...not discomfort free, just discomfort less. For days I drove home from work at an above average speed, just hoping I'd find a large box on my doorstep. Finally, my waiting paid off. I got home, looked out the front door and there it was! The skies became bluer and the birds chirped louder and I enjoyed the anticipation of little shiatsu balls gently rolling up and down my back and shoulders. It took 10 minutes of wrestling it out of the box and setting it up but soon, nirvana was to be mine.

I put the massager in my comfiest chair, got situated a turned it on. The motor started to whir and I felt the shiatsu balls start moving up and down. It...was...fantastic!!! I must admit, the weight of my body against those hard little rollers was a bit much. I figured that I'd have to push against the rollers but they were so effective I ended up moving slightly away from it because the pressure was so intense. It was almost painful.

Each time my back and neck was pummeled I could feel the knots crackle and break down. Then my back started to feel a little bit beat up. Those deep knots were getting squashed right out of my body! Mr. Shiatsu ninja kicked my ass! Or rather, my back. 

I guess I sat against that thing for a good 20 minutes and by the time it was done, I felt like a limp noodle. It was heaven. I finished out my day and slept soundly all night long, but the next morning was another story. 'Who beat the hell out of me', I wondered. I was so sore it hurt to breathe! Leaning side to side was out of the question. I practically used all of the hot water in the shower trying to loosen things up and I didn't really start moving normally until the end of the 2nd day.

I guess it's not wise to go all in for a long, deep massage when you're really tight and sore. Sure, I broke up some knots but I overdid it something awful. It's been 3 days since I used my massager and I think I'm about ready to try it again. Only this time I won't go for 20 minutes. I might try 5 and see how things feel. All things in moderation people say. I guess they're not wrong because I learned it the hard way. 

Zoe's Onstage Speech

Kidlet is a huge, huge blues fan and she likes seeing her favorite band as often as humanly possible. Since I'm her driver, I end up seeing them, too. Sometimes we see them twice in one week. Let me put it this way...we see them so often they're like members of our family. Zoe is like their little sister.
She's their photographer, the social media queen and all time number one fan.

We saw the guys playing a while back and she was asked to get up on stage and recite all of the different social media sites where fans could find them.

Now, I'm a gigantic ham so I would have used that opportunity to plant myself on the stage and not leave until the entire show was over but kidlet is another story. She's pretty shy and is very quiet outside of home, so to be called out with 30-40 people watching is a nightmare for her.

She sort of got physically pulled onto the stage and placed directly in front of the microphone stand and I thought she was going to pass out right then and there. Her face was as red as a lobster and here eyes were as big as saucers! The poor girl was quaking in her boots! The guys kept asking her to name off their social media sites and she just got redder and redder and looked like she wanted to dissolve into the floor. She was so scared, she couldn't speak. (cue chirping crickets) I don't think you could have gotten a word out of her if you had reached down her throat and pulled them out!

Poor thing - she didn't know what to do (other than recite social media sites) and her throat was so closed up her voice box was down around her ankles. I think this silence lasted about a minute or so but it seemed like forever. She finally scuttled off stage and rejoined me at our table. It took 3 hours for the perspiration to dry off of her.  It took 4 hours for her knees to stop shaking. It took the rest of the night for her facial color to return to normal.

I guess she's not ready for public speaking yet. That's OK

Guitarded!

I know a person who is guitarded. I mean, he's got it BAD!

He keeps a guitar in his office. He has guitars scattered throughout his home. Any time someone stops by long enough to take a few breaths of air, the guitar comes out and he starts strumming. I think he got inspired to buy (and maybe learn how to play) a guitar when he was on a trip. He saw a dude strumming and singing and thought it was cool that he was getting all of the attention from chicks. So he decided to become "that guy" who could strum softly and sing soulful songs that would make him appear to be a cool chick magnet. Chicks would dig him, guys would want to be him, he would finally be cool!

So he got a guitar. And then another. And then another. And then another. And then he decided everyone in his family wanted a guitar too so he got one for each of them.

He has an impressive collection of pretty, somewhat expensive guitars. So now he researches guitars. And he looks at pictures of guitars. And he watches YouTube videos about guitars. And he watches YouTube videos about how to string guitars, and how to adjust the sounds on guitars, and how to tell a good guitar from a bad guitar and he's learning how to somewhat dismantle one. That inspired him to  shave the bridge part that holds up the strings. Then he monkeyed with the fret lines. Then he monkeyed with the strings some more. Then he decided to do even more work on it. I'm sure it sounds more like a sitar than a guitar now.

Now another thing about Mr. Guitarded is his playing style. There isn't one. I've never heard more than 5 notes played in succession. I've heard a couple of chords but that's about it. Lucky for him, I'm really good at knowing what song is playing just by hearing the first few notes so I know what songs he's rocking out to. I'm not sure anyone else would know.

Since he never actually plays much, he doesn't have string callus marks on his fingers. String calluses are good way to tell how much a guitarist actually plays. His don't look anything like these.

 His look as soft as this..


I'm all about having hobbies and learning new things but this guy seems to be working in reverse. Sort of like a brain surgeon digging into someones noggin then going to medical school. He's altering instruments without hearing what they sound like when they're really, seriously played. If he ever learns how to play he might not like the way his alterations sound and then it will be too late.

His addiction is becoming a problem because that's all he ever thinks about. Work isn't getting done, people are starting to avoid him because they don't want to hear 3 chords played over and over and over and they don't want to listen to a 20 minute discussion about his latest purchase. I'm sure his wife is grateful because he's out of her hair but his 6 stringed mistress is taking over his life. He needs an intervention.