Showing posts with label spa day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spa day. Show all posts

Monday, August 25, 2008

To Spa or Not to Spa

By Kate

For my birthday, my boss gave me a $150 gift certificate for a massage at a luxurious day spa in my area. My problem is, I received this thoughtful gift on my birthday over a year ago.

That’s right, I haven’t used it yet. What’s wrong with me? I have friends who would absolutely love to spend the day lounging around and pampering themselves at the spa. Me? I’d rather walk on hot coals.

Don’t get me wrong. A few times a year, I do the mani-pedi thing because I admit I like my toenails to look pretty. And those ladies who double-team you with one doing your toes and the other doing your hands? I love those ladies, mainly because they’re so fast! Fast is good. I tell them, the faster you paint my paws and claws and send me on my way, the better I’ll tip you. It’s a win-win.

I have a friend who actually has planned a week-long spa vacation on a beach somewhere, where she’ll spend every single day going from massage to kelp wrap to waxing to—oh dear God—yoga? Then nature hikes, more massage, maybe a cucumber and radish sandwich for lunch and a mid-afternoon parsley juice refresher.

Just shoot me. Really, I’d rather eat dirt. I’m so not a girlie-girl.

Part of my problem may center around that table I have to spread out on. Is it just me, or does it resemble a torture device? Show of hands.

I guess I blame my lack of love for all things spa-centered on my childhood. I grew up with four brothers who treated my attempts to fluff and pamper myself with mockery and cynicism. My mother, while wonderful and thoroughly feminine, was hardly a role model due to her whirlwind life of bandaging or swabbing or rushing to the emergency room after one of my annoying brothers fell out of a tree or got hit by a stick or swallowed ant poisoning.

Because of that houseful of boys, I learned early on to eschew the joys of slathering and lathering in favor of bike riding, kite flying, tetherball and hide-n-seek. Today, I’m pretty much the same way, although I admit I do a lot more slathering in my futile attempt to stave off the many insidious signs of age. But that’s a topic for another day.

I suppose I’ll have to get that massage one of these days, but I’m not looking forward to it.

So help me out. I know many of our Banditas are girlie-girls and day-spa queens, so what do you love most about the spa? If you had the whole day to spend at a spa, what would you do? Sit in a jacuzzi? Wrap yourself in mud? Get a massage? Or would you rather go fly a kite?