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Sunday, October 23, 2005 

My day at the spa with Paris Hilton

Husbands can be very useful. For one, they are great at taking the garbage to the curb (this sometimes happens even without a reminder that it's garbage day), they are glad to escape the craziness inside the house to go mow the lawn or wash the cars (but don't try to corner them with a mop for anything INDOORS because the heart rate goes up, the pupils start dilating and sweat pours down the forehead, clearly indicating their discomfort with household germs and dirt - big bugs and mud OUTSIDE is not a problem).

Husbands are definitely appreciated when they participate in a contest at work and WIN THE GIFT CERTIFICATE TO A SPA.

This is how I ended up at the spa on Friday afternoon.

The first trip at the spa can be somewhat nerve-racking for someone who has never stepped into anything fancier than a hairdresser's salon. I've always oooh-aaaaah'ed the idea of spending some time at the spa, but until I was holding that gift certificate, I never thought it would happen.

For the spa-neophite (or spa-ignorant), there are many things to think about and I decided to be very open about this as I walked in:

Me: "You have to tell me everything I need to do because I've never been to a spa, and I have no idea if I need to keep the underwear on, take them off, or even where to put my clothes - DO NOT assume that I know anything!!!!"

Spa lady: "OK - don't worry so much and start by taking your coat off - you're still in the entrance way."

I was then told that I would be getting a free oxygen bath. I thought this was simply a bath with jacuzzi jets. As I sat upstairs in a fancy waiting area while she prepared the bath, I quickly called my hubby to make sure he was picking up the kids since I was getting an extra treatment and had no idea how long this whole spa-venture would take.

I was eventually led into the room with the oxygen bath. Instead of a tub with swirling hot water, there was a white plastic coffin-like structure waiting for me, which, upon closure, only let my head stick out. I was instructed to get undressed (completely) and to sit inside and close it up. This was a plesant 25-minute experience - a sauna for all of your body but your head.

I was then told to slip on a robe, and wait for someone to get me. It took at least 10 minutes, and as I sat in the semi-darkness and total silence, I kept thinking about Paris. Not the one in France, but the one who led The Simple Life, a seemingly dumb platinum blonde worth a gazillion dollars. I kept thinking about how spas are probably a regular part of her life, much like blogging is for me now.

I followed a lovely young woman and spent the next 2 hours with her.

Again, just to be sure in case she didn't remember, I asked her to be very precise in her instructions as to what I should do, where I should lie down and what was going to happen next. I was given a pair of disposable underwear to change into.

I've heard of disposable underwear before - this was nothing like one might think. She might have better described them as a one-size-fits-all 2" wide thong. It was so dark in this room, I didn't really care so I just put them on and waited.

She came back and started the full body exfoliation. For those who are spa-challenged, this means rubbing a sandy substance on your skin such that the first and second layer of epidermis are shaved right off.

She then applied the seaweed body wrap. I always envisionned this particular treatment as long green weeds slowly wrapped around the legs and arms. Well, it turns out to be a fish-smelling (of course) black paste, applied everywhere it can be rubbed without causing embarassement to either party. A big plastic sheet is then wrapped around the body, and a heat blanket is put on top of all this. It was pure heaven, totally relaxing, for 30 minutes. I fell asleep.

Then, into the shower, and the application of a body lotion and I was good to go.

I was shocked to see that all these shenanigans swallowed 3 hours of my time. And then I thought of Paris again. 3 hours is probably the treatment she goes for when she's in a hurry.

And so I headed home, with my baby-soft skin, I was unfortunately thinking of school, and all the correction that needed to be done and/or reviewed over the week-end...

Me: "You have to tell me everything I need to do because I've never been to a spa, and I have no idea if I need to keep the underwear on, take them off, or even where to put my clothes - DO NOT assume that I know anything!!!!"

LOL! I felt just like that when I went for my very first massage. The underwear thing was a huge question mark!

Interesting blog, great concept!

I hear ya! I had a massage at the last resort I stayed at. She pulled my bathing suit down so my bum was showing. It was odd.

I once had a massage done in Cuba where they massage your belly and CHEST!!! I didn't know if this was a Cuban thing or if the guy was just trying to get a good feel! What a horrible experience. He didn't look like a pervert but you never know.

So that's what I'm good for? Taking the garbage out? LOL

I could never go to a spa. I just don't like strangers rubbing my back and the like. I'll take the hot tub with The Missus anyday.

toooo frickin funny.....you are very hysterical......seriously, I think you fixed me for life..I always wondered what happened at those places....I think I'll pass...lol

I would have asked the same questions. I've had massages but nothing else. I have to admit that reading your post did make me tee-hee! Good writing!

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  • I'm Lolita
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  • Challenges... don't we all love a good challenge? University, married life, a mortgage, kids, keeping my sanity while we cruise through life at 100 MPH... why not try my hand at teaching for a year. After all, a school year is only 180 days - anyone should be able to survive 180 days, right? Well, I'm about to find out - follow my journey and enjoy my trials and tribulations as I embark in this 180 day rollercoaster ride of teenage hormones and drama, spiked with discipline, homework, exams and surprises I'm sure...
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