That’s my favorite word lately… “shine”. It’s basically what “bliss” was for me circa 2002. A great, all encompassing word to express the way I feel and my life. It’s something that I hope I do. It’s something I hope my family does. It’s something that I hope others find. Their Shine. Hard to explain but makes sense to me.

Anyway, I’m feeling like a human being again. It’s a glorious thing. Not 100% but not awful awful awful. Taylor was here yesterday, which helps so much a) because I love her and b) because my kids love her and go play with her all day. I got a massage hoping that it would help with the pain. My doctor suggested it months and months ago and for some reason I just never got one out of laziness or whatever. (Insurance doesn’t pay) So, I finally decided to trot down to the ProClub Spa and get one anyway. It was loooooovvvvvveeeelllllyyyyyy. Today I am sore from what I suspect is lingering symptoms and just plain old “day after a massage” soreness. I’ve also had a muscle spasm in my right eye for 2 days that occurs about every 5 minutes. Weird. I’m going to wait another day before I call the doc.

After the massage, I was starving. I envisioned myself stopping to get something quickly on the way home. A burrito? Jamba Juice? I quickly came to my senses and piped up to the attendant “Who do I talk to about lunch?”

She said “Sit down, I’ll bring you a menu.”

So I sat down in the dimly lit lounge area next to the fireplace,drinking my orange cranberry water. She brought me a menu and I ordered a spinach salad. I sat in my robe on a comfy couch finishing the article in Glamour called “What Men Notice in the First 10 seconds” I laughed to myself that number 1 wasn’t “Your Boobs”. C’mon. The article was lovely in that the author was an educated, evolved man who said things like “We notice confidence and whether or not you think you’re beautiful.” I appreciated that but still think he should have said something about boobs or asses. We’re talking about men, here, c’mon. I’ve been schooled by my husband. Sex is on their brain. Not whether or not a woman feels comfortable in her skin and makes eye contact. But…we ARE talking about Glamour magazine, which is the less slutty cousin to Cosmo.

I eat my salad, sitting down, and savor every bite. I eat it slowly, taking in the ambiance… low classical music, soft lighting, comfy robe…yes, I’m still in my robe. She heated it for me after the massage. Hello, Patti the masseuse, I love you. I’m all gooey and squishy from the Patti having her way with me and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. The spa attendant’s name is Sylvia and she is helpful and cheery. She calls me “Senorita Provost” and chatters quietly to her friend in Spanish while I’m eating. I love Spanish. I wish I spoke Spanish. There is something so comforting about it. I wondered what they were talking about as I gleefully stabbed at my Spinach and carefully rationed the single blog of goat cheese. Oh, Goat Cheese….

I drove home feeling grateful, blessed, fortunate. Top of mind so much for me is how people who don’t have coping mechanisms do it? Especially with a chronic disease. What if I were a single working mom, who was sick, didn’t have good insurance and didn’t have help? The LAST thing on my mind would be a freaking massage even though it is probably something that could help greatly. Being good to yourself is imperative. You can’t be good to yourself if you’ve given everything you have to everyone else. Eventually, you’ll just collapse. I keep trying to rack my brain to find these women. Can I start a Relief Effort? I don’t know…I need to think more about this. Taking a mother away from her busy ass life where she is on her feet 10 hours a day, to get a pedicure is not going to cure her of a chronic disease. It’s not going to make her life any easier. It’s not going to give her more money or make her life less hectic. But for that 40 mintues or whatever, she’ll feel worthy.

And that’s one to grow on….

On the advice of the glamourous Emily Louise VanDerhule Kimberling, I have started watching Project Runway. I’m halfway through the premiere. I didn’t watch it last season but that Austin Scarlett is a dead ringer for Hedwig. Is that on purpose? Interesting. Lots of cuckoos.

Making the Band 3 finale was last night and I cried. Oh yes, I did.

The sun is shining. I’m going to run to the window and get some sun on my face before it disappears.