Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Masochistic Massage

Mmmmmm, a massage.

A respite.

Relaxing.

Don’t they feel S O.G O O D?

I had a massage last night. I thought to myself, “Brie, you’re a trooper. You’ve had a tough month, and dangit, you deserve some ‘lovin. You’re tense and stressed and what better way to get out all the anxiety than a nice, relaxing, massage?”

So I called and booked one for the next hour.

I went in. I talked with my masseuse, and told him that I liked deep tissue massages. Why on earth would I pay muchos dolares for a light massage, which is akin to slippery butterfly wings drumming on your back? Nah, I wanted my money’s worth. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to get the knots out, feel the kinks straighten out. Yes, yes, I like it deep.

So he began. It was nice at first. Pleasant. He did a once over on my back, and Ed, he said, “Woah. How are you even surviving with this kind of back? You are so tense; I cannot find one muscle that isn’t in a knot.” And I kind of mumbled, “Yeah, it’s been a bad month.” “I’ll say,” he exclaims, then says, “Okay. I’m going to give you a massage that I think is the most therapeutic for you. It won’t be the most comfortable massage, but it’ll help you the most.” I readily agreed. I've had deep tissues massages before. I love them. But I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and hey, I really did want some back relief.

The first time his elbow dug into some tender oh so tender muscle near my shoulder blade, I gasped.

BREATHE, BRIE, JUST BREATHE.
Inoutinoutinoutinout.

...Whew. I felt my muscle move a bit, and voila, the pressure eased.

I can handle this. I’m strong. I used to starve myself for days and days. I have will-power.

Again, the pain, the white-hot pain. I thought to myself, what would M (my T) tell me to do? WWMD, right?
VISUALISATION! Yes, that’s it! She’d want me to visualize I was somewhere else, somewhere comfortable and happy.

I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH aaaah I love it I love it I love it I...love...it?? And then I started thinking, this doesn’t really hurt, does it? This is Brandon giving me a massage, and he sucks at them, and this doesn’t really hurt, I’m just making this up I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH I’M ON A BEACH!!!!!!

“Wow,” Mr. Masseuse says. “I’m impressed you can handle this, you’re such a skinny thing. I weigh 250 pounds, and I’m putting all my weight into this. But MAN, I just can’t believe how many knots you have. How on earth did you even do this to yourself?”


“I guess I just carry my stress in my back,” I say weakly, panting.

“Yeah, and you really must be a masochist to be able to handle this!” (At that I surreptitiously twist my left arm awkwardly to hide all the self-inflicted scars there that have healed a bright, stark WHITE against my olive skin.
“And you’re a sadist,” I mutter under my breath.

And then he starts again. I have never actually SWEATED during a massage. Nor have I had hot flashes. I began to think that the stress of the massage was putting me through early menopause. Great, I think. And I wanted another kid, dammit!

It’s nearly over now, I can tell because my muscles are much looser, and he’s using his hands to rub the knots out, as opposed to his forearms and elbows.

I hear a lot of popping.

And I’m thinking, “Ed, I’m a little embarrassed for you. Can’t you keep the finger cracking to a minimum?” It was almost as if he read my mind, because he suddenly said, “You hear that cracking? That’s YOU. You have so many adhesions, your muscles are popping back into place.” I asked him what an adhesion was, and he told me that it was when your muscles are so tense, they start to stick together, and that’s eventually what makes a knot. It was almost like hearing a little kid gleefully popping bubble wrap. It was disconcerting.

Then he says, “Is it alright if I work on your glutes a bit? They can also contribute to hurting your back.” “Sure,” I say comfortably, thinking for a rather dense-of-me moment that my glutes were where my hamstrings are. It must be the menopause fuddling with my brain.

And then I realized what my glutes were. My ASS. Don’t worry, I was wearing (adorable) panties, and there was a sheet and also a blanket over me, so there were three layers between his meaty hands and my fleshy bottom, but still it was…weird. Plus, under all that padding, I had no idea I even had bummers muscles. Isn’t it all just fat? But no! Alas! He found them, and he hurt them. His fist was a meat cleaver, and I was the rump roast.

At the end of the massage, Ed gave me a glass of water and told me to drink up. “Water is going to be your best friend,” he says. “I released a lot of metabolic discharge, and you’ll need water to flush it out.” I blanched. Had we just had sexual intercourse, or a completely appropriate (but painful) massage? All I can say is:

I never liked meat cleavers
or
sexual innuendos (however unintentional) by a sadistic masseuse named Ed.

And this morning?
I have no knots.
Or adhesions.

But my back is sore from, like, all the METABOLIC DISCHARGE.

Good thing I’m masochistic, eh?

22 comments:

Penny said...

Well today, once again you've made my day and it is still early. I can picture you in that place getting worked over! I laughed out loud several times and that feels good. Did you feel like a limp rag doll after? Wish Ed could read this blog. He'd probably print it out and post on his resume!

Kara said...

Wow, I'm so impressed that you could handle that massage! (Wait - maybe that is a bad thing....hmmmm.) But I'm glad you got the knots out of your muscles. I need a massage too because I'm really tense, but I'm too chicken. I have gotten a massage once and it hurt like a mo. I've been too scared to go back. Perhaps you have inspired me to try it again...

licketysplit said...

Too hilarious!

Maeve said...

I love the photo of the elephant standing on someone, that is exactly what your post made me think of.

Masochistic or otherwise a massage sounds so good right now.

I hope the "metabolic discharge" eases soon and your back can relax!!

Krystle said...

Holy Moly! I've never had a professional massage, period, but that sounds a wee bit scary! I hope you are getting less sore now!

CookieGirl said...

You are HILARIOUS. This actually is making me want a massage, for some strange reason!

Telstaar said...

Oh my, I am laughing and smiling at 448am!!! Only you can make me do that Miss B! Oh dear! I've had massages like that, always good, but I always end up feeling like I need ANOTHER massage to deal with the first massage like the next day or two days later etc!!! I hope the beach stays a nice happy place for you!!! *mwah* xoxox

Kerri said...

Hahaha- I am dying laughing here! I feel for you. I hate massages because I get too stressed over what people will think when they touch me (well really, I just KNOW they are thinking how overly fleshy I am or something and I FREAK). I am so impressed you can take that- the few times I have let my husband massage my shoulders I always hear that gross popping sound and you are right, disturbing! Anyway, you description of it all has me cracking up though.... :) Glad you survived!

Krista said...

I have always hated the word discharge. At CFC people always talked about discharge dates, discharge contracts, discharge plans, discharge whatever! Of course when ever the word was spoken my mind went to vaginal.

Oh a massage sounds so nice right now. I agree with telstaar though. I too feel like I need a massage after a massage.

tawny said...

that was fuuuuuny. You know he couldn't wait for your glutes. pervo! jk.

"Julia" said...

That's hilarious!
Really, I think this is my favourite Briester post, ever.
I feel your pain on the scarring issue. I somehow managed not to keloid--a feat that seems superhuman now I think about how badly I went after myself. Same arm, incidentally.
Anyway, sorry as I am that the massage hurt you temporarily, it's already doing you wonders :)
Though maybe you should ask for a female maseuse next time...

Standing in the Rain said...

seriously brie, how do you take the most ordinary run-of-the-mill daily events and make them so darn hilarious?

i want to bottle that wit and drink it. :)

Jackie said...

Ha ha I had the same thing done - I requested a "deep tissue" massage because of the knots in my back. IT HURT SO BADLY!!!!!!! And it hurt for the next few days but it kept the knots out for about 4 months so totally worth it!

Abby said...

How do you make things so hilarious? And how do you manage to have so many amazing/amusing experiences? And, wait, I think I'm confused--the masseuse's name was Ed?

Also, well, I sort of want a massage now... and at the same time, I sort of don't!

HAFC said...

I've had one of those before. Scary, weird, but also kinda nice (knowing I won't physically break in half). Now I'm thinking I need one. I'm doing all this wedding planning stuff and working full time and moving and so on and so forth and what I really need is an AWESOME Massage by someone who isn't scared of "hurting" me. I like it deep too. I love your writing in this post too......you make me laugh. : )

Misty said...

That was the funniest thing I've ever read! Why don't you try to publish stuff, seriously?

"Julia" said...

I ditto Misty. You should write some memoirs, the sad stuff, the funny stuff, all of it. You've a natural gift for it.

Laura said...

Look out for guys with metabolic discharge. That's what got me pregnant with Luke.

and am I the only one laughing at the fact that his name is ED?

I also was relieved to learn that the popping was your back, and not Ed passing gas

brie said...

Yes Laura! The irony that this man's name was Ed was not lost on me. I was waiting for someone to mention something...;)

Brooke said...

Too bad it wasn't Vondel! He was my lover.....sounds wonderful.You are so lucky. I love to get downw and dirty with my massages.

Sarah said...

I made my husband read this because it made me laugh so hard. This is so funny. I agree that you should write a book, Nora Ephron or Anne Lamott style. Have you read Anne Lamott? You should--"Traveling Mercies" is a collection of her musings on recovery from bulimia, faith, parenthood. I think you'd really like it, especially considering your faith entry the other day.

brie said...

Sarah, I love Anne Lamott!!! And thanks for the "support" re writing a book...i'm thinking, and writing. :)