Friday, January 09, 2009

Finding My Happy Place

My favorite person in my massage class is Phone-Sex-Voice-Girl. She's a 45-year-old, African-American, semi-hippie woman who worked as a massage therapist in California for five years. Her natural voice also just happens to sound like someone who would answer a 1-900 number.

When she moved to Texas she found that she needed some extra hours to get the proper certification and as such, she joined our class late.

The other night during massage exchange as my right rear cheek was exposed for the entire world to see, she informed me that in California, she often meditated with her clients while they were on the table.


She began by telling me to just relax.

I thought, "How on earth am I supposed to relax when everyone in this room is currently able to see more than half of my buttocks?"

She then proceeded with her mantra, which began with telling me to "find my happy place" and then asking questions about how my happy place looks, whether or not there is a river, if it's blue, and if it sparkles when the sun hits it.

When I answered, she calmly reminded me that the questions were rhetorical.

The last sentence was what really killed me, "This is the place where we are everything yet we are nothing."

How can you not laugh? Just for the record, I also laugh during church services (where, thankfully, I am fully clothed). Perhaps that's why The Paul has dubbed The Judy and me as "irreverent".


Porter Family said...

If that was me, I probably would have laughed heartily, which would have caused gas to escape my exposed rear end. I guess you're glad it wasn't me. I would have answered the questions, too. After all, that's the polite thing to do, right?

diana said...

Oh I am soooo very happy to be able to read your blog again!! This even makes Sunday nice since I have now had a good laugh.
Thank you