skeletons

shower
Originally uploaded by kristalynn.

some of you may remember that i had a slightly less-than-legal "massage" not too long ago. the hardest part of that whole debacle was not that the man decided to touch my external labial folds, it was that it had actually taken me 8 years to find a masseuse that i really liked. someone who actually listened, who worked hard and went deep, and always gave me an extra 15 or 20 minutes.

"i bought some new oils, krista."

"that's some pungent lavender, eddy." i'd reply, anticipating his stalwart man hands.

i booked my first non-eddy massage a couple of weeks ago. christmas present to self. i specified to the receptionist that i liked deep, strong massages.

"i have the perfect masseuse. vladislav will do you."

but i lay on vladislav's table, receiving his assembly line, superficial strokes, becoming angrier and angrier. thinking only of eddy.

"you can go stronger," i instructed vladislav.

but vladislav didn't understand.


it also took me a decade to find the perfect yoga instructor. and in early 2007, i discovered that she raised her prices. heartbroken, i'm giving some other instructors a try, in hope that studying with the perfect teacher has "opened my mind".

i attended a class at the local Y.

the yoga instructor was a white dude with dreadlocks. i pressed on. he made me "embrace the world". i soldiered on. while in a lunge, he made us feel the weight of our core, allowing it to pull us lower.

"i can sink low because i have very heavy balls," he informed the class.

i rolled up my mat and left.


at a dinner party last weekend, i drank too much champagne and disclosed to the table that i was considering returning to eddy. some heads shook. some heads looked down at their plates.

"i could do it and not tell any one of you guys," i upheld.

"oh, we won't judge you," one friend beamed. "i've been wanting to ask you for his number, but felt it was wrong - with him sullying you and all."

i'll pass on the number.

he comes highly recommended.