Is It Over Yet?

by

This week?

I know it’s not.

I am just impatient.

I want to hear from the man and the man is balls to the walls busy.

I can’t even explain.

I don’t care to.

His work and him are not really fodder for the blog.

The feelings that come up, though, those, are all mine.

Write about them I shall.

I had him on my mind this evening as I was passing in and out of a luxurious fugue state.

I went to Kabuki Springs and Spa with my room-mate.

Room mate sounds better than landlord.

But what it comes down to is she’s my friend.

That’s what I should say, I went to Kabuki with my friend.

I realized that I had not gone since I did the AidsLIfeCycle training and I went with my friend who I met on the ride.

I will have to go back sooner than three years.

I may also try another spa in the city that I just found out about.  My friend told me about about Banya out in Bayview.

It is a co-ed spa.

It is also a European traditional spa.

It sounded fantastic.

And chatty.

The one thing that I don’t care for so much at Kabuki Spa is that there is expected quiet to be had in the space.

Now don’t get me wrong, I like some meditation when the time is right, and I will admit I did do some this evening, but really, when I am at the spa, I want to chat with my girl friend and catch up and see how she’s doing and you know, catch up.

But the gong got sounded.

Yes, that’s right, there is a gong that you can gently “bang” with a leather-covered mallet to remind the room that it is a quiet space, not a coffee shop.

Banya, according to my friend, is not only co-ed, but it is chatty and conversational and the water is hotter and colder.

I can hang with all of that.

So, of course, my mind goes where it will and I suddenly had a passing, oh, hahaha, getting a body flush now just thinking about it, that is hysterical.

The auto-immune system is working just fine folks, nothing to see here but a little blush, move along now please.

I, er, had a passing thought of what the Mister looks like without clothes.

Ah.

Ahem.

It was a nice thought.

I will leave it there.

And yes, I did go back to that place in my mine where I would like to be in better shape as I hopped off the scale.

I put on the Freshman 15 in Paris.

“I know you are not happy about the weight you put on in Paris,” my friend said to me last night as we were talking yoga and kale.

“But you are eating so well, all you are going to need is a little more added to what you already do.”

She’s right.

That fifteen is going to slide right off.

I have been abstaining now from sugar and flour (again off my relapse that lasted a horrid three weekends) for close to 90 days now.

The weight I gained from that debauchery is gone.

And when I got on the scale at Kabuki I was pleased to see it was a little less than I was expecting.

That being said, it’s not my optimum and I know where I feel good and I want to get back to that.

Not for the Mister, or any other man for that matter, but as I was writing this morning I thought, you know I have worked really hard on a lot of things with fair good success.

I got a black belt in Kung Fu, for instance.

But I was not in recovery and not eating well.

I have the drive and the follow through.

What would it look like if I devoted some attention to that?

What kind of body is lurking in there?

Random thoughts to accompany the mental image of a bare-chested man.

Today became an unexpected spa day, I am now realizing.

I did work seven hours today, but I got off a few hours earlier than I typically would and I only had one baby today, so when he went down for his last nap on the day I made a French press pot of coffee and sat on the back porch in the sun for an hour reading a magazine.

The mom got home exactly at the same time as he woke from his nap.

I left feeling really relaxed and decided I wanted a manicure.

Which is my version of going to the spa.

Twelve dollars, inclusive of a 20% tip, is in toto what I pay to get my nails done.

I can usually afford that kind of treat.

As I was settling into the chair I got a text from my friend saying Kabuki, I dithered and after some convincing when I got back to the house, I went.

So glad.

Aside from steamy fantasy I also got to sit in the dry sauna twice with sliced cucumbers over my eyes with an ice cloth compress, one sit in the hot tub, two sits in the wet sauna, in which I rubbed down my skin to a fine polish with raw salt, and three plunges in the cold bath.

Whew.

I also did the traditional Japanese cleaning before getting into the spa and the saunas.

Then another shower after ward and lots of cucumber lotion on the body.

I finished sitting in a lounge chair deep conditioning my hair and reading a magazine.

This self-care thing is pretty awesome.

Tomorrow and Friday I work.

Then I head to the yoga studio.

I just calculated rent and grocery costs, paid off my student loan for the month, and it looks like there is at least a weeks trial of yoga classes in my near future.

The time is now.

I am thrilled to finally be moving forward with this.

I guess if I can wait years to start a yoga practise I can wait another few days for some company, it will be gone before I know it.

Just like the time I was in Paris.

I was and have been thinking about that quite a lot.

Where I was this time last year and the kisses that had just started between the Mister and I.

I left for Paris never thinking to come back and wistful and dreamy about this man who had kissed me under the blue porch light at Graceland and again at the airport when he dropped me off the next morning, how I felt then, that ache in my breast, but assured in myself that I had to go, I had to.  Not wanting to afford those thoughts of what if…

I never expected that I was going to get to kiss him again.

Of course, I also did not expect to be living in the Sunset District less than a year after I left for Paris.

Maybe the Montmartre district, but not the Outer Sunset.

And yet, here I am.

Once again.

I waited a year, yes, yes I did.

I can wait a few more days.

Patience.

My dear.

My darling.

Patience.

All good things come to those who wait.

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