Bucket Me This: Part II

Last year I mentioned my intent to jump on the bucket list bandwagon and compiled one of my own to finish before 12-12-12 (my thirtieth birthday and the beginning of the end).

Because it’s 2012 and January's almost done, I’ve become more proactive in checking off every item on the list with a goal of one per month. I hear that in order to succeed at these sorts of things you need keep it simple so here it is if you missed it last time:

1. Shoot a gun.
2. Get a tattoo.
3. Take Portuguese classes.
4. Skydive
5. Get a massage by a professional (preferably in a spa).
6. Rescue & find homes for 100 stray dogs
7. Learn to bake a cheesecake from scratch.
8. Go on a hot air balloon ride.
9. Return to my high school weight (ha ha ha. I’m a funny girl).
10. Go sailing.
11. Buy a pair of Christian Louboutin heels (do knock offs count?).
12. Go on safari.

Extra credit: Make passionate steamy love to my teenage crush, Josh Hartnett.

So this Saturday, despite my deathly flu-like symptoms and inability to breathe through my nose, I mustered the energy to check off item # 5 from my awesome and totally doable list.

When I walked into Evolution Spa that windy afternoon, a heavily tattoed girl escorted me to a dark lit room and the smell of mint and incense engulfed me. A beefy woman of about fifty who could totally kick my ass with her big hands if she wanted to introduced herself as Linda, my masseuse. After some small talk she asked me to get comfortable and said she’d be back in five minutes.

Because I’d never been to a spa before, I deduced “get comfortable” meant get naked and that’s what I did.

(Except my underwear, of course. What kind of creepazoid do you think I am, guys?).

When Linda returned to find me lying in the buff moments later, she laughed and asked me to get up so I could lie under the blanket. Weird.

For the next sixty minutes, Beefy and her big hands went to town on my body, rubbing me so hard my back is bruised and my hips hurt when touched. Occasionally I’d laugh and scream “ouch!” To which Linda would respond with a light beating of the shoulders and a “You laugh for anything, little girl.” She proceeded to tell me stories about all the weird people she’s offered her services to. How one guy walked around the room completely naked and refused to put his pants on. How she pepper sprayed him and called the cops. How he sent her flowers and an apology note the day after.

“There are some weird people out there, little girl,” she’d offered as she kneaded her fingers into the back of my knees. “Some weird, strange little people.”

I must confess getting beat up my Linda’s huge hands wasn’t my idea of fun. Then she brought out the hot stones and shit got interesting real quick. That feeling of a smooth stone against my skin with warm oil was exquisite. Maybe it was my masochistic subconscious speaking, but I found it as close to divine intervention as possible for a Saturday afternoon.

A little while later I fell asleep and awoke to the soothing sounds of wind chimes and Linda packing her materials.

“You sure do snore, pretty one,” she mused, then left me to get dressed without further warning.

I have never felt so used.

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All in all, I give this experience 9 out of 10 ninja stars. The only thing I would’ve changed was the pain factor and the “din dong ding ding ding” of Asian music for the sounds of Mozart but I’m peculiar that way. Until next item… The pleasure’s been all mine.