During this weekend I have been very productive. One day I went to a Bachelorette party and then spent one day recovering from it. Luckily the bride to be is one heck of a planner and she left every one a little package by the table. She called it an “Oh shit” – kit for the day after. An absolutely fantastic idea!
It made me realize that I want us to invent an Oh shit kit for life. Just after being born I want babies to get this package as a gift together with a little note. It will say something like:
“Oh, hello little one! Welcome to life. Sorry about the claustrophobic experience you just went through. However you feel right now I can assure you that your mum feels worse. I hope you will enjoy it out here on Earth. We have put a few things together to make you feel welcome. Please enjoy the fresh milk first and when you feel up for it we can go through the list.”
The package would contain the following:
First of all a filter. This will just filter all the bullshit you will hear. Don’t take notice of assholes.
Mints. Because you will enjoy good food in life and with good food comes garlic. And you still want friends so..
SPF. The sun is nice but harsh. Your skin is soft and smooth. So far. Wait a few years and you will mistake your own feet for sandpaper. Or whoever you are sharing bed with will.
A dog. Because you need a pet. Everyone that can should have something furry at home to hug. Your unshaved whatever doesn’t count. You can get a hairy partner if you are allergic.
Books. Read and learn because whatever happens to you in life nobody can ever take away knowledge or experience. My husband laughs at the fact that I moved huge boxes of books from country to country when I moved around.
A pair of running shoes. Get your ass moving weekly. Run to the hills, walk through the forest or just get the hell away from places really quick. Your heart will thank you.
A happy place. Feel free to choose location yourself. To start with we have chosen two pair of boobs for you. You will grow out of this hopefully but some boys chooses to keep this as a happy place through life. My happy place used to be the stable. I been horse riding for many years and spent most of my childhood cuddling ponies and shuffling shit. That stuff makes me happy.
I like massage. Just not the kind when it feels like the person doing it hates you. Like Thai massage. I always feel like I have to apologize for something I haven’t done about 10-15 minutes in to the session. How can this little person (normally compared to me) turn in to Thailand’s version of the Hulk slash Spiderman. I obviously don’t see exactly what she is doing but I lay there and imagine Spider-Man sitting in his (hers) famous pose with the knees bent on my back, looking around with crazy eyes for the next muscle or bendable joint to attack. If she say “please take a deep breath and relax” you know she will do something to you which will make a noise that sounds like she just broke your back.
Nowadays I go with the safe option of swedish massage. Not only because I am well traveled and seem to have one massage story for every country I’ve been to. Yes, the ones without a happy ending. Below are two of my most interesting massage experiences that I wanted to share with you.
1. Spiritual bullshit in Montpellier, France
Ok, maybe I didn’t read the spa menu correctly and I must have pointed out the wrong option, as the receptionist kindly stated when I complained afterwards. It started out ok but when the massage therapist (a man) asked me to turn around and took the towel off me, I started to think that something was up. Occasionally I have patience. Everyone that knows me will disagree but when travelling you need an open mind. So I just laid there with my boobs in the air wondering now what. The man suddenly started singing “ooooooohhhhhhmmmmmm” like a proper yoga instructor and made rings with his fingers around my boobs. I started laughing but was directly given a “sssssshhh” by the man who had closed his eyes and went on with ohm-song. Fuck this, I thought and went out. I went to the reception and asked what I just experienced and she gladly said “spiritual massage for your soul”. No, my soul was not having it but I’m sure his was.
2. Boob grabbing in Amsterdam
Do you notice a pattern? Its all about the boobs it seems. But this time it was at a Chinese hair dresser in the city centre of Amsterdam. I guess the exotic sign of “cheap head and back massage” appealed to me. My boyfriend at the time had a hair cut and I thought I would try out out the massage to make time pass. I was sitting on a chair facing the hair salon with a woman behind me. She started out with a normal shoulder massage. She continued massaging the muscles just above the breasts. This is usually very nice as we forget to stretch those muscles. But hey ho, she went further down with her hands and suddenly and rather hard, she grabbed my boobs and squeezed. I was too shocked to react and just opened my eyes and starred right out in to the people sitting in the room getting their hair cut. Did anyone see? It was over quickly again and I was just sitting still like a tensed stick wondering what just happened. Just in time for her to stick her fingers in to my ears and whirl around. Do we have a lot of spots in our ears that needs massage? I’m still wondering. I’m also happy that I wasn’t a new mum at the time and breastfeeding. That boob grab would have caused a smaller milk explosion.
Yesterday one of my friends told me that she had a full body scrub in Dubai. After a while the woman scrubbing her told her that she was getting too wet in her clothes and just took removed them like no big deal. She continued to scrub her while she was mostly naked, only wearing small panties.
Gotta love travelling!