Southern girl plowing her way through life making the rules up as she goes. Warning: likes to bake, curse, quote movies/literature, is tattooed, married to The Man and mother of two girls. We bring new meaning to the "griswald way of life". Come along for the ride!



Sunday, March 16, 2008

Just Call Me Jane Bond, 007


Okay, the best part about Friday's spa day was the vinchy shower thta was apart of my treatment. Besides having a very sweet, very mute lady scrub the ever loving hell out of my body, the absolute bliss of this shower was the bomb.
You're laying covered in steaming warm towels on a table with a great waterproof pillow, this 6 foot shower thingy, swings out and water in various temps and rythems, wash all the nasty dried ski and scrubby goop away. Other than the fact that it was so hot it brought tears to my eyes (which is saying something as I tend to look like a lobster after a shower) it was amazing.
Until they rubbed the massage oil on, cause holy hell, I lost 2 layers of toughen up rough rhino skin apparently (sorry TMI) cause that crap burned and I'm still sore.
It was a nice pampering though, and when I added a tip to the company's bill, I about lost my complimentary breakfast and juice, there is no way in hell I'm paying someone to torture me like that. Not that kind of money and I'll keep the rhino skin.
Otherwise it was lovely. (Picky little sh*t, aren't I?)