Bhangra and the Beebs

My first official Indian train ride is going on right now. I really wish I had booked a lot earlier but there's really no way I could have so I guess I can't be too upset with myself.  Thank god for the business class upgrade at the start of the trip which equipped me with ear plugs. I wouldn't have had those (which I most definitely need) without it.

So far the noises include:

Spoiled baby who has learned that screaming gets her way no matter what.

Audio recording of said spoiled baby played on repeat by her older and equally spoiled sister every 5 seconds (literally every 5 seconds, the track goes "*squuueeeeeeea*l HAHAHAHAHAHAHA *squueeeeeeealllll* no!") over and over.

When not playing the squeal recording of her sister she has an audio clip of 6 panes of glass breaking and shattering. Which she runs up and down the aisle playing. I am certain it is 6 panes as I have heard it enough to count them.

Multiple Indian songs on iPods (which I don't mind as much)

Justin Bieber. Yes. Kill me. Someone has "baby baby" cued up as their ringtone and they get lots of calls. Lots. Of. Calls.

I'm pretty sure the spoiled girl's brothers are playing a game of "I'm not touching you" or the Hindi equivalent.

I'm in clearly a tourist row right now. To my right on the window is a German woman and to my left is an Asian man. Both around my age I think. (The two brothers are now pretty fascinated by the iPad I'm typing on. I can see them staring at it from the seats in front of me.)  Thankfully my Asian friend has a movie playing which is a bit more engaging than me typing.

I can't say I fully understand how the classes work on the train. I know there is the AC class and it's divided up into other subclasses. Then there's no AC but still ok cars also divided into sub classes and then finally the worst trains where people are just packed in. I am in the AC class all of the trips except for the longest one between Jaipur and Jaisalmer. I'm going to do my damndest to sneak into an AC car. Peter mentioned I could just bribe the ticket guy or when I find an empty bunk just lay down and "go to sleep" and they wouldn't say anything. Worst case scenario I say "I was on the waiting list and it said I got it I thought!" and they probably would just leave me.

For now this isn't so bad because the trip is fairly short and I wasn't going to sleep much anyway. I have somehow managed to eek out a little over an hour. Hopefully that will be enough to power me through the day. Once I get to the golden temple it would be pretty relaxed. Today is just take in the temple and get to the India/Pakistan border for some sort of crazy border closing celebration that happens every day.  I was hoping to find a Bhangra lesson while I'm here but since my stay in Amritsar got compressed I don't know if it'll happen. I'm going to ask when I get there.

I also hope I get a window seat next time. The best part about being on this train is watching the countryside go by. It's very obvious you're not in America and so seeing the different farms, building, etc is pretty engaging. I just wish I had a better view.

Train Troubles and Bar Training Grounds

Apparently every ticket on the Indian railway is booked at the moment. I have one last ditch hope of getting on board anything and that is the tourist office in the train station. Apparently there are a specific number of tickets in first class set aside for foreign tourists. You have to go to the actual tourist office and show your passport to get in. There's apparently still no guarantee according to the concierge who was helping me book the tickets originally but I'm going to try. If I can't do that it looks like I have to do a hire car which is going to be significantly more expensive but more convenient for sure. I still hope I can get some time on Indian trains too. That was a big part of what I imagined India to be. Lots of train travel. Here's hoping.

Yesterday we went to a party of one of Peter's acquaintances who is a British ex pat and one of the gays. So the party crowd was mixed up of people who work at various (mostly the British) consulates and the Indian boy toys they have. Everyone was very nice and I took the opportunity to try and get better at engaging strangers as Peter was up and running working the room as soon as we got there. I'm pretty terrible in bars and I figured I had no chance of ever really seeing these people again so this was a good training ground.

I ended up getting a ton of great travel advice and suggestions of some cheap and clean places to stay in Udaipur and Agra. Hooray! I also got to come across as far more interesting than I actually am because just by being white and from the US I was fascinating. So baby steps in the right direction.

Sorry, still writing in bullet points

Day 2 in Delhi

Highlights

* Slept in till about 11:30. Whoops jet lag.

* Hopped up and went to the tallest Muslim minaret in the world. Intricately carved and surrounded by ruins.

* Really noticed lots of "holy crap a white guy" stares. Even had a group of Asian basketball team ask to take my picture as they all crowded around me and cycled through who took the picture and who got to stand next to me.

* Went to the red fort where we met Vikram an American Indian on his "discover my heritage" tour.

* Vikram joined us and we all headed to the lotus temple of the Baha'i. Very beautiful grounds and interesting architecture. Sort of a Unitarian feel of a church.Actually constructed in the shape of a huge lotus. Probably my favorite temple thus far.

* Left and went to a hare Krishna temple which struck me as what Disney might make if asked to design an Indian temple. The inside was nice though and there was some live music which seems to always influence how I feel about a place.

* Had dinner at KFC (yes really) but I tried the veggie options just in the spirit of trying something new. I'm terrified of food illness and Peter and Vik have basically made me even more terrified so it's actually quite tough to find something that I can be convinced is clean and prepared properly. Krishan actually suggested it and I wasn't one to combat food that had been prepared with standards.

* Came back and chatted with Peter when he informed me that the spa was free so hopped downstairs and used the sauna for a bit and plan on going back tomorrow for maybe a scrub or an Ayurvedic treatment. We'll see.

* Tomorrow is a planning day and at dinner with Peter we'll discuss how the rest of the trip should go. Should be really beneficial. Now that I've seen exactly how much energy it's going to take out of me to get anywhere sand do anything I can modify my plans to maybe make things a bit easier. Where originally I didn't plan on going to southern India it sounds like it may be a bit more my style. It will be tough deciding which cities to shorten or skip though but I can always extend the trip.

Overall a really nice day of sightseeing and yet another dip into the kiddie pool of what will constitute living and traveling in India. The thing I've latched on to though from today was something Vik said.

"India is kind of intense. Everyone says its going to be really visceral. It's kind of like vomiting."
"Uhhhh that doesn't make India sound too appealing"
"Well no, but you feel better afterwards"

I've certainly already had some moments where I've though "Oh god what the hell are you doing?" but then we see a ridiculous sunset over a temple or end up hanging off the side of a rickshaw in terrifying traffic but feeling excited afterwards with that rush of adrenaline that I always feel good at the end of the day. India isn't (unless you have tons of money) a relax and explore trip. It's a survive and experience sort of trip. It isn't easy and it isn't for everybody but it's exciting to be taken so far out of oneself and left with almost no comfort zone at all (he says while writing on his iPad in a 5star hotel...guess I still have a little comfort zone but I do see that rapidly disappearing.). Exciting and horrific. Maybe that's what India is. Beautiful and disgusting. As soon as you think one thing of India boom it's suddenly the opposite. Tough to navigate but worth it.

(I hope.)

Delhi Day 1

Day 1 in India complete.

Total culture shock engaged.

Misc thoughts/highlights

*Its going to be weird being afraid of water. I love water and to always be thinking "oh god this could kill me" when I'm around it/drinking it/using it is totally foreign. I genuinely think this may be the toughest thing.

* I am going to get used to being dirty. While at this amazing hotel I can come inside into air conditioning and take a ridiculous shower and feel clean again but I could feel my exoskeleton of dust and city grime covering me by 5. I also have a ton of boogers and snot to cough up but have yet to get past the western politeness of not spitting or picking my nose in public. I have a suspicion (if I want to breathe) I will have to get over that.

* During rush hour breathing gets hard. I would have to stop mid breath sometimes because of the smell of exhaust or the sudden rush of gritty air.

* Despite all the negatives there are some really amazing things too that I think will really show themselves more as I get used to how things are here. Today was a lot of slack jawed staring at my new temporary Tamil travel companion Kishire shouting at rickshaw drivers,  walking into what in dc would be considered certain death traffic and smiling the whole time while commenting about how beautiful India is.

* The hotel is amazing. I'm so lucky to have a connection like this. It's been amazing to not only have a really nice hotel to transition into but even more importantly to have lucked into a guide of sorts with tons of experience and a taste for blonde men.

* Saw the India Gate, the Parliament house and Hamayun's tomb. Tomb was extremely impressive, gate and the Parliament house is sort of reminiscent of the National Mall...if it were more crowded and covered in trash. .

*Went to my first Sikh temple. You have to take of your shoes and cover your head. The outside of the temple is quite nice but the inside looked like it was covered in Christmas garland. One big perk was they gave you some free food after walking around a bit. Actually pretty yummy and hot enough that I trusted all the deadlies were cooked out of it.

*The rickshaw drivers kept trying to take us to shitty little markets because they get some rupees from the owners for dropping unsuspecting and gullible tourists off at their spot and a commission on anything we buy. I was genuinely excited to see a "market place" but none of this stuff really qualified. Lots of cheap knock offs and over pushy salesmen following the white dollars signs.

* Every shop employes about 700 people per shift. The stores almost always have more staff than customers from what I can see.One guy will open the door, one will ask you how you are, one will show you the good, one will wrap the good, one will bag the good, one will tie the bag and one will hand it to you.

* Lots of stray dogs. Watch out for rabies?

That's about it for today. I'll try to not write in bullet points as much as we move on. 

Planes, trains and autorickshaws

Jesus booking trains and planes and automobiles in India is crazy even if you have someone else to help who understands the system.

I sat up last night for about 3 hours agonizing over how long to spend in each city? Which trains to get on? Can I fall asleep long enough on that train to avoid paying for another hotel? Did that leave me enough time for the Indian cooking class I read about? Is that enough time in Amritsar to see the golden temple AND find a Bhangra class somewhere? Am I over thinking this? Oh god I'm over thinking this.

Thinkthinkthinkthinkthinkthink.

Think.

I ended up almost getting scammed at "the tourist office" yesterday. I went out and had the rickshaw take me to the tourist office which I was told was at the train station. We drove to the train station area and he pointed me into a building that matched all descriptions and titles and I hoped in. The guy ended up telling me everything was booked but he could get me in on the tourist quota but I would also have to book the hotels with him then. It immediately sounded fishy. We talked for a bit, drank some chai, he kept trying to upsell me and I got the vibe I was stuck in a con but worried I might not be able to get out of Delhi on the up and up and the price wasn't SO awful that maybe I should consider it. So I gave him my credit card which has been canceled and shock of shocks it was declined. I told him I'd have to go back to the hotel to call the bank to see what was wrong. I had to leave a deposit of about $10 to hold my spot but after some more upselling I was let out. I went back to the travel desk to check and see if the card he gave me was indeed the "tourist travel desk" and the concierge told me it was not. So thankfully I dodged that bullet but still had them on the line if I couldn't get out any other way.

Right now I'm standing in line at the ACTUAL tourist travel desk at the hotel with the travel lady who is helping a very angry Asian man cancel his flight which he is going to be late for and rebook him for a 4:30 direct flight to Goa. We made it almost ALL the way through booking my trains (she was in the last bit of her schpiel) before the guy ran up and stole her away. He was here before me apparently though so I can't be too upset. Plus it gives me time to write this. Hooray! Ill be saving quite a bit of money this way and the only downside (which is a pretty big one) is my longest train ride doesn't have AC. I'm going to try and upgrade if there are any cancellations or I may just sneak in the higher class car once tickets have been checked. Everyone will be sleeping anyway and apparently there are usually spaces because lots of places like the "tourist agency" I spoke with buy up blocks of train tickets to sell for a huge profit. If they aren't purchased they don't good Samaritan them back to the train station that's for sure so fingers crossed there will be a space for me.

Yesterday was a planning day. I sat in the business center most of the day planning things to do and where to go. It's tiring. I know that sounds so lame "oh please tell me how awful it is for you planning a trip in India from a 5-star resort" but it's draining! I think a lot of it comes from the fear of leaving this place. I will certainly not be staying anywhere this nice for the next 2 months (slash the rest of my life) and I must admit I'm a bit intimidated of really stepping out into India on my own. I'm hoping all of this planning will make a difference but Peter leads me to believe that nothing will happen as planned...we'll see what shakes out I guess. Gotta get my game face on. Do I have a game face?

A travel journal you say? Surely you kid yourself.

I just watched the last bit of the UK fade underneath the rain clouds that followed me for most of my time here. Not that it was ever too much to deal with (it just made some of the photos look a bit more dreary than they actually were). I'm now sitting in my very own aisle off the left side of the plane en route to New Delhi. All of my worldly goods have either been sold, thrown away, donated, mailed to KY or mailed (at GREAT expense) ahead of me to Sydney. I'm listening to the "Bollywood Hits" station on the plane to try and gear up. I can't help but think maybe I should listen to the "Western Hits" to hold on to that last little bit of my known world before disappearing into a culture I've only minimally experienced. One baby sits about 9 rows ahead of me but seems mildly tempered. 

I don't regret the decision to mail my laptop ahead of me in exchange for the iPad I'm writing on now but damn it I will miss a real keyboard. I should have really invested in a roll up one. Maybe I'll be able to find one in India? (Even while typing that it feels naive to even hope.) 

I have actually written a bit about my trip so far in NYC and the UK. It sits safely (if royal mail does it's job well) in my laptop which I won't have access to until I arrive in Sydney so don't be confused when this goes out of order randomly. To highlight some thoughts though:

* While I love visiting NYC and appreciate all it has to offer, I wouldn't really go out of my way to live there. I would if all signs pointed to it but as I get older I see less and less chance that the road signs will all magically turn their arrows towards the big apple. London, however I love and adore. It's everything I want NYC to be. Cultural, beautiful, exciting, clean and alive. I would eat bull testicles every day to live in London. Sadly unless the exchange rate improves I don't see that happening either. (I'd make a much stronger personal campaign to make it so in comparison to NYC.)

* I have been so lucky with this trip and can only hope my travel karma continues to hold. Through the kindness, friendship and generosity of my friends, airline workers, buskers, strangers and friends of my friends I have eaten for cheap or free, seen areas of the UK, learned about customs and history, danced, explored and traveled well out of what would be possible on my own. Nearly everyday I keep questioning if I'm making a smart choice in this trip. Is a 2 month backpacking stint the "adult thing to do" or am I throwing away everything I worked for thus far? Am I uncomfortable with the idea of stability and thus decide to throw away any hint of it when I see it appear in my life . DC was amazing to me and I will always see it as a home. Why would i leave the first place I've ever attached that label to? The way things have thus far continually fallen into place gives me the confidence that this is clearly the right thing. "Surely the universe is unfolding as it should." Stability is a bit of a myth and illusion. That sounds a bit scary but I actually find it quite liberating. Behave responsibly sure but don't be afraid to make big crazy choices, it's usually when you take a leap of faith that you land somewhere awesome. (But fuck me if that leap isn't scary.)

* I think the reflection time I'm getting is going to be great for me. I have been surrounded by amazing friends for the past 3 weeks or so and have loved traveling with all of them. To suddenly be alone is intimidating but in the couple of hours I've already done it I've found a lot of time to think and it's already yielding some fruit. I'll try and flesh out some of my thoughts here but I can't count on my success. 

Side note: I just got my airline dinner and it smells amazing. Maybe being a vegetarian for a while isn't going to be that bad. 

Well I've just laid eyes on India for the first time from the plane. Not exactly what I expected the aerial view to be (but I guess I had little expectation of something so specific anyway). At first I thought I was looking at giant mountain ranges which I guess in effect I am but then as I looked out over it it was clear this used to be covered in water. The huge shadow casting mountains used to be thousands of shores of thousands of rivers and lakes. And around all of that? Nothing as far as I could see. It looks like a pretty intimidating countryside. My auto correct first had "looks" and "looms” and I guess that's actually probably more accurate. (Sidenote: I guess this is actually how most mountains sorta "work". That used to be water and it all carved out the valleys as it dried up or ran elsewhere. I guess I've just never seen a better example of it before.)

Whenever I fly I'm always glued to the window seat as long as I can see land. It's everything in me to pull myself away to write this and I keep straining my neck back to get a new peak. Even as many times as I've flown in my life I am still filled with childlike wonder every time. On the outside I'm trying to look out the window casually as if I'm possibly thinking about something really deep or maybe settling in to nap on the window port but my inner monologue is something like this 

"Holy shit we're about to take off. I love airplanes. Oh my god look at that other airplane over there! Where'd it come from? Or is it going somewhere? Oh god oh god oh god. The baggage truck is headed over to the other terminal. Hope all those bags are...oh god we're taking off! Whoooooo! Squeeeeee! Let's see how much of this city I can see before cloud coverage takes over! Ahhhhhhh! How do we do this?!?!?! Look at that! And that! I wonder if I can see people coming out of that store if I look hard enough. *pantwheezepant*"

So back to India.  There's very little cloud coverage but definitely a haze over the country. I'll hope that that's light fluffy semitransparent nimbus clouds but I'll assume it to be smog. Still no real signs of much civilization sans the long straight lines of trains cutting through the countryside.  I just spotted my first little cluster of buildings and finally a still surviving river...which took a while to identify as it is basically the same color as the ground surrounding it. More building clusters are popping up and we're 434 miles away according to my in flight tracking screen. Hooray for palindromes!

Time to fill out my arrival card. Next time I write I'll be back underneath the clouds...of whatever they are. 

Lincoln knew what he was doing.

I shaved my beard off today.

This happens about once a year and always sort of sporadically. It’s usually because of a show/role/performance but this year it was more of a check in to see “how things were going”. I first grew my facial hair in to give myself a bit of a false definition to my chin line which for many years was not very well defined (read: nonexistent). After losing a significant amount of weight in the past year I thought it might be something to check in on to see if any of my chins had disappeared along with the other weight.

Thankfully they had done just that and I now only have one real chin rather than multiple chins all sloughed together on my neck. Now, my face is less an amorphous blob and more an actual face. Hooray for actual face.

Also, I have a bit of a confession. I’ve started putting minoxidyl (the main ingredient in rogaine) in my beard to try and fill it out a bit. Vain? Absolutely. I have always had a lot of my self image tied up in my facial hair. My beard has been a bit patchy in the past and I’ve had a couple spots where things didn’t quite connect (bridge between my moustache and goatee, sideburns on my left side, couple of larger patches on the right side) that have always bothered me. I’ve always had to grow my beard out quite a bit to mask these bearded imperfections. I’m jealous of guys who have genetically lucked into beards like this:

Perfect coverage. Full. Thick. Amazing. 

Or this:

Football beard. *grunt* 

Or definitely this:

Photo selected only to show beard fullness and for no other reason...*melt*

Lucky bearded bastards all of you. Thankfully I can grow enough facial hair for it to look right but not as much as I would want if I had my druthers.

When I was in college one of the running jokes was to give me rogaine as a present or gag gift because I was quite clearly losing my hair on the top of my head (monk’s hat style). After the obvious hilarity ensued from the initial gift I did actually use the bottles they would give me. Like they always say in the commercials/warnings the effects of Rogaine will go away when you stop using Rogaine. So while sometimes it would show some extra hair growth on the top of my head, it would go away after I ran out of the bottle. (I was a college student so I couldn’t afford to buy anymore either.) I would always apply as directed to the top of my head then it would leave some residue on my finger tips so I would rub that on the largest patchy spot under one of my 4 chins. This grew in amazingly and even after I stopped using Rogaine, it stayed on like a champ. My oval beard champion spot.

This has always made me think dreamily that maybe one day I too could have a beard like these lumberjacks. I too could posses facial hair deserving of admiration and jealousy. Little ole Strother could have a beard that could take any other beard in a cage match of beards. (Thanks “Title of Show”) I found a good batch of generic minoxodil on sale on Amazon and decided to pounce. I have now been using one bottle for the past month or so and have definitely seen some improvement. The shave was a way to take my face back to zero so I could more closely monitory my progress. It’s a lot easier to see hair follicles popping up when the beard is short/nonexistent.

Why all this devotion to facial hair? Why such a strong desire to have a thick beard? Well, it’s what I’m attracted to and with a bit of an “I’d fuck me” attitude, I want to have that same thing.

When I was in high school I grew facial hair to cover my chins and also to somehow assert my masculinity. In my tiny little small town mind, who could suspect a guy with a beard of being gay!? It just didn’t seem like it could exist in the world. (Thank God I was wrong about that.) I held on to facial hair tightly throughout high school to the point of refusing to shave at the cost of missing a performance with my choir because our director “didn’t want anyone to think I was a drug dealer”. I even came up with an elaborate hide utilizing some of Ginger’s concealer and some clear packing tape. While it fooled my director from a distance, he still refused to let me participate in the show…bastard.

My facial hair remained a huge part of who I was even after I cut off all my shoulder length hair (which was the right choice). I always feel kind of naked without at least some hair on my chinny chin chin. It's colder without it for sure because all the skin under there is not used to braving the elements. All through college and all post college I've kept my face adorned in some form of hair so that's why a shave gets such an extended post. 

I just think I look better with some facial hair. I used to wear it to hide what was underneath but now that I'm happier with all that, I wear it to enhance what's underneath. I don't look as ridiculous without facial hair as I used to but it's still not how I want to look. I used to try and hole up in my room until my facial hair grew back when I shaved, now I'm no longer at that point and I don't hate it with the same fervor. As the beard comes in a bit more I'm even finding myself happy with just some stubble, but something has to be there.

And for those who care to know, it's working. The patches get smaller and the stache gets ever closer to connecting. It won't be long before I can actually rock the elusive "monkey tail" style in all it's glory. 

Christ Blogging is Hard

Jesus. I did such a good job there for a little bit.

Apparently a hurricane and earthquake are still not motivating enough to blog about. Long story short they were both anti climactic and boring...at least here in DC. I've had all sorts of "experiences" since the last post and I've just been zapped energy wise. Also, when you fall so far behind the mountain of updates you have to do looks so daunting that you say "ahh fuck that" more often than not. I'm going to spend the next couple of hours catching up...sort of.  So I am going to grant myself amnesty from all the posts before and try and catch up a little but not kill myself over it and start anew.

Or I might spend 15 minutes trying to make this damn thing in Gimp. Writing with a track pad is hard. 

Maybe a daily recap is a bit much to ask. Still a good goal to aim for. It's probably better to expect 2-4 updates a week as far as real posts go. Maybe that'll stick...

...probably not.

Keep on dancin' till the song ends...or turn it off before it gets that far.

Being one of the gays I have a small (not-so) secret place for little miss B Spears in my heart. She is a skanky white trash hot mess but lord love her little heart I like her. Or I usually do. Her new CD is just awful and I have absolutely ZERO standard for her. Does the song make me wiggle? If the answer is yes then I consider it a win for Britney. This cd blows.

Most of the songs are boring and repetitive. The couple of singles are ok but the rest is all filler. With the exception of gasoline and brief moments of a couple of other tracks the cd is not even qualified for background music at a party because it’s all over the place. I do love the whistle-filled "I Wanna Go" and think it’s a pretty solid addition to the Spears library. THIS is what you need to crank out B. Catchy fun and danceable fluff. Don't try and transition your career to some sort of house mash up. You don't do it well. Even with (or especially with) Will.I.Am. in the studio. (Big Fat Bass is one of the top 10 worst songs ever written. I will defend that to the end. It. Is. Awful.)  "Till The World Ends" isn't bad but nothing terribly exciting and "Hold It Against Me" is lackluster. Of course, the radio has played them so much that now I do groove a bit more than when they first came out but they're flat and boring songs overall. 

I was hoping for a fun dancey album of trashy pop but what I got was an attempt by a pop star to give herself an “edge” with “house” music and “urban” beats. All of these words deserve quotation marks as she doesn’t even get close.

Buy the singles and don’t waste your time with the rest of the album. Miss Spears, you have one more shot. Don’t shave your head again either. 

I may not be Fred Flintstone Baby but...

It was just another day. Until terror struck P St…for everyone but me.

This is now the 7^th earthquake I have lived through and not felt. A couple in California (where I was sure I’d feel at least one) and now DC. I was walking back from Starbucks to a meeting at the gym and all of a sudden people started running out of the buildings and looking up. After a couple of seconds murmurs of “Did you feel it?” started making their way through the crowd.

No. No I did not feel it. (That's what she said...bazing!) 

I had no idea anything had happened. Apparently if you were moving at all (on a bus, in a car, on a bike, walking quickly) you might not have felt the quake. Since I had no objects to really put any of the movement into perspective for me it just felt like a regular step in my stride and I didn’t feel even a quiver.

Government agencies shut down, businesses closed, people went home and took unscheduled leave time. DC is the least prepared city for a natural disaster ever.

Teeny earthquake: City shuts down

Snowstorm: City shuts down for weeks

Hurricane threat: Grocery stores emptied

The capitol of our nation is the wussiest city I’ve ever lived in.

1)    It’s fine, some people didn’t even feel it…yes it cracked the Washington monument but it certainly didn’t fall. Take precautions but it’s not a sign of the end times.

2)    Invest in some snow plows. I know it doesn’t snow most of the year and the budget is tight but for Christ sake have SOME option for when/if it snows. The money lost due to lack of people going out for 2 weeks of snow time is way worse than the money it would cost to get a couple plows and hire some people. Even if it took a day or two to do, it’s fine.

3)    Don’t even start with hurricane. It’ll be a separate post all together.

I know I shouldn’t “wish” an earthquake to happen anywhere. Even a pansy little one like we had here has done some damage. It shakes buildings off their foundations and cracks penis shaped monuments. No one wants that. So clearly I don’t want another earthquake to happen…I’m just saying if one does and I live in that city I hope I feel it next time. (I also hope it’s a little puss puss quake like this past one because I think while I want to feel one, I’d also be terrified if one really rolled through and say knocked down a wall or something so dear universe…don’t take this too seriously, I wanna feel one but I don’t wanna die in it.)

Second star to the right and straight on till morning.

I never want to grow old.

Now not "old" the way kids say old when they think of 30 (which is just barely over 2 years away) or 40 or even 50. Old to me isn't so much a number as it is a state of being. Things give out. Our bodies can only take so much and enough wear and tear and we're all gonna deteriorate sooner or later. We can slow this down by treating our bodies well and by staying in the right mindset but it's going to happen to everyone eventually. I am fully aware that I will not be as spry or limber as I am today when I am in my 50's. No getting around it.

But.

I won't have to consider myself "old" when the 50's run around necessarily. Old to me is "given up". You can be much older than 50 and still not be "old" as I use the term. I don't think anyone is "old" until they are done living. Sure your capabilities change but that means you readjust and figure out where to find the life and the youth in the parameters your body gives you. Can't mountain bike anymore? Go for a walk on the trail. Can't walk the trail anymore? Try a wheelchair. Can't use a wheelchair? Paint a picture of the trail. Can't hold a paintbrush too long? Dictate a story about it. You get my point. Life is about living and until I'm in a box (or more likely scattered in the ocean) I don't plan on stopping. If I ever get to a point where my days are spent being unable to take care of myself, lonely and in pain then I don't want to extend that time any longer. Life throws stuff at us and who knows if I'll even be able to walk tomorrow but hopefully I;ll be able to find life in whatever turn it takes.

Why this sudden ode to youth?

I went to visit my great Aunt in her assisted living community today. I go to visit her about once a month. I'm the only relative nearby so it's basically my duty. This all sounds pretty selfless but don't confuse me for a saint. While I definitely see how much my visits mean to her and at the end of the day I'm glad to go...it's a giant pain in the ass.

Ask anyone who has had an aging relative and (if they're not sugar coating it like an old southern lady is wont to do) they'll tell you it's tough. The older you get it seems the more set in your ways you are (somewhat rightfully so, you've earned it) but with that comes a stronger sense of annoyance when things aren't as you see fit. To block out one of my days off in a time period where I already have next to no free time is a tough sell especially when the things we often talk about aren't terribly fun. Now and then I'll get a good story about my family or some of her work history (she had a high government clearance level...but she's a good former worker and never tells me any of the really good stuff) but most of the time we talk about which of her friends are sick or dying, how terrible her doctor's appointments were or Charlie's bowel movements.

(Her cat. I could have placed the parenthesis right after his name but what fun would that be?)

Aunt Betty, while certainly a sweet old lady who means well by all her friends and family, is still a bit at odds with many of my viewpoints and at times difficult to interact with. Of my family however, she and I probably do share the most liberal leanings but that's like saying she's the skinniest girl at Kirstie Alley's house. (I kid, I kid. I adore you Kirstie and you look great these days.) She is still extremely conservative but unlike most of my fam, she will listen to rebuttals and discuss her points with a somewhat (mis)informed POV without just shouting at you that you've been brainwashed by the "goddam liberal media". It's still tough though to gear up to go listen to how Obama is destroying the world, marriage should be between a man and a woman and Bill O'Riley has "some really good ideas" on my day off.

However, Aunt Betty is not what this post is about. I can handle her quirks because we have a pretty good mutual understanding that we're not going to agree on many issues but that's ok. (A disagreement in my family that doesn't end up in a shouting match?! Shocking.) That and of course she's my family and has done lots of really great things for me and those important to me so the least I can do is visit now and again. She's grateful to have someone come out to talk to her and help out with her computer and I'm happy to stock up some good karma points and actually feel connected to one side of my family. Aunt Betty and I have a pretty solid mutual understanding of each other even if our viewpoints are clashy.

This post is more about the slow spiral many people hit as they "get old". (Remember getting old and aging are two totally separate ideas for me.)

I am glad that she has someone around to come visit her mainly because when I arrive on the assisted living campus (it is like a sprawling college campus for the 65+ frat boy and sorority girl) you can feel the people there staring at you because you're young. For some of them it's a wistful look as if they are remembering their youth and what it was like when they were my age. Others it feels like they're actively trying to suck the youth out of you a la Hocus-Pocus (which PS scared me to death as a child). They stare at you from their rascal scooters as you walk by, some saying hi, others just staring and you can feel the eyes of most everyone in the room land squarely on you. It's a creepy feeling especially the first couple of times you visit. I'm a bit more acclimated to it now and I just smile and exude as much youth and vitality as I can and say hello to every person I pass just so they have some human interaction. It's really sad to think (know) that some of these people don't have anyone left in their lives. That they spend their days in pain missing days and people gone by. Longing for some form of real connection and interaction other than a casual hello from a guy with a beard walking down the hall going to meet someone who is not them. This, this is where I never want to end up.

I want to age. I want to grow and learn and experience. I want to fail and succeed and go new places. I want all the great things that come with getting older and I'm prepared to deal with the inevitabilities that come along with that. What I'm not prepared to do is live a life where I'm just stalling. If I get to a point where my friends and family are all dead. I can't move. I spend most of my day in pain. I lament even having to get up in the morning because of the supreme amount of effort it takes me. If I get to this point then I don't want to be there anymore.

Death is scary yeah but I'd rather check out what's behind door number eternity than cling to an unlivable life.

I'm ready to get older but in true Peter Pan form, I'll never be ready to be old.

"That man ate all our shrimp...and two plastic lobsters"

Brunch. The gayest (and therefore the best) meal of the day.

Today's brunch is brought to you by Masa 14.

Masa had been on my "to do" list for a while and I finally had someone to go with. The delightful Sara Brunow.

We got there before the doors opened which turned out to be pretty unnecessary as there was plenty of space. We sat down and knew before going that we were doing the unlimited brunch for $35 (including drinks). We perused the menu and ordered some breakfast-y items and drinks. Sara got the Masa Mimosa and I tried the Lychee Bellini.

Can someone please clarify whether it is pronounced lie-chee or lee-chee for me? I have now officially heard "people who should know" (read: Chinese people) pronounce it both ways and I keep making myself look like an ass when I order anything with lychee in it. I just want the confidence in my pronunciation so that no matter how they say it back to me, even if in a corrective tone, I can think to myself "no way mister, screw you. I said it lie-chee and I know I'm right so you can take your lee-chee crap elsewhere because that don't fly over here."

While the lychee was fantastic, the Masa Mimosa is clearly the winner of the drink race. The Masa Mimosa is a regular mimosa but instead of orange juice it has blood orange juice and a hint of mango puree which was amazing. Bottomless is a dangerous term but thankfully I wasn't in the mood to get smashed.

Now to the food. The most amazing thing we had was easily the chorizo plate. Had the waitress just brought that dish out over and over again I would have been satisfied. Their granola was really great with a hint of vanilla/almond to it that I enjoyed. I was a bit underwhelmed by both the tuna steak and the chilaquiles although both still good they just didn't stand out with quite as much flavor or pop as the rest of the dishes did. Everything else we tried was quite good and the overall experience was pretty solid. With attentive waitstaff (my water was never less than 1/3 empty...but who's drinking water here really?), great ambiance, yummy (and bottomless) food and drink for a reasonable price it's tough to go wrong here. I'll certainly head back and probably lounge around a bit longer. With a larger group or date it would be a great way to spend your 11am-2pm Sunday time frame and then leave stuffed and buzzed. Sara and I had to roll out early to get some errandy things done and having already made asses of ourselves mispronouncing lychee and talking too loudly (theatre voices) of our sex lives (limited shame) it was probably best to leave before the bell rang anyway.

"It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time"

Career.

Yikes. Heavy wordage when you think about it. What you "do" with your life. How do you make a living? How do you set your work/life balance? Can you really separate "work" from "life" or do the two intertwine too much?

For me "work" has often been a large part of "life". Pursuing theatre, music and teaching was a big part of my identity and remains part of it even though it is removed from "work" for the time being. I think one of the things many people struggle with is deciding if what they "do" defines "who they are". (Let me put more quotation marks in this post how bout it?)

Right now I'm caught in the middle of a somewhat amorphous phase of my life. I've stopped "working" in theatre and the arts and now my job is massage therapist and spa manager. I still believe that my passion for the arts helps define who I am and what my life is even though I'm not working in that world. Massage is something that has happened pretty organically for me. I've always been good at it so when the chance to take classes while keeping my full time job came up I thought why not. I've really connected with the work and I love the things I am now able to do. (Ref: older post about being called a healer.) So now, for the first time in my life, my job has not been a (mostly) complete representation who I am. I don't say the words "I'm a massage therapist" with quite as much conviction as I used to say "I'm a(n) actor/director/teacher."

This makes it sound like I'm not happy with being a massage therapist...that's not the case at all. I'm actually quite happy with it. I'm paying off all the debt I accrued saying "I'm a(n) actor/director/teacher". I'm learning new skills and how to think in different ways (which is extremely important to me). I have met lots of really amazing people. I am exploring lots of new ways of thinking and developing new and healthy habits. I'm learning about the human body and ways that it breaks and ways you can fix it. I'm engaging and training a completely new side of myself and I am constantly excited about it. I think the disconnect is coming from my life time dedicated to saying "I am __(insert job)__" and letting that take all the work out of defining who I am to someone else. I think there is such a strong idea of what a(n) actor/director/singer is that when you tell someone that one of those things is your job then they already "know" a lot about you. When you say "massage therapist" or "spa manager" it doesn't come with quite the same understanding.

Having a job that doesn't have an immediately defining manifesto leaves one in a place where you have to confront exactly what you want to portray to people as you. A hefty task.

Hmm, that was a significant ramble away from what this post was originally going to be about. Let's backtrack.

I saw a client of mine who I have been seeing for many months this weekend. I hadn't seen them in forever and our schedules finally clicked for them to come in. After catching up briefly we went into the spa and I asked what they wanted me to work on.

Lots of stuff came pouring out about how difficult things have been lately. No real specifics but just a clear picture of a rough patch from a client who isn't terribly talky about personal life. It was clear that this massage was going to be the first real break the client had had from this shitstorm in their life and it was super important to them. I have yet to do a massage that had quite as much meaning as this one did for me. This client was around from the very start of my massage career and we developed a great rapport. To see them so clearly frustrated and upset with something was tough because I'm a bit of an empathetic d-bag. It was clear that this massage was the first time they have had to really switch off and disconnect from all the shit going on in their life. I have never felt more motivated to do my best work than here. I felt like I was really making a difference in my client's life that was significant and meaningful.

All of a sudden the work that I've not been ascribing as my "I'm a __(blank)__" is actually pretty important and can be really powerful. I may not be curing cancer or saving starving kids but I am helping people feel better and I think there is a lot to be said for that. Helping someone recover from a sore muscle, a stressful day or even a month of shitty stuff going on is a pretty great job and I'm happy to take it on. To be an integral part of the health and wellbeing of others is necessary and worthwhile. I may have to explain who I am a bit more now than I'm used to but I think that's a good thing. I want to be more complex than a job title.

Till they fall off

Today the experience is training arms and core. (God that's a douchey way to start a post..."Oh you know just workin' the lats and the tris baby, gettin' swole". Kill me for that.)

I've decided the reason to have a trainer is mainly to have someone tell you "Oh no you're not done yet."

When I train by myself I lift until I'm pretty sure I'm done. That I can't do anymore. Everything I've read says you should lift to exhaustion when you're looking to gain muscle.

Well my idea of exhaustion on my own is different from exhaustion with a trainer. I lift to my idea of exhaustion and then Chandini says "Ok 8 more to go...for this set."

What the hell do you want from me?

It's good though. It's good. I've just resigned myself to being sore for the rest of this year. I hope that by the end of all the PT time that I'll have learned more about where "actual exhaustion" is and have some lifting regiments I can do on my own.

I think one thing I have to stop doing is equating lifting and the gym with douchey. While yes often times the two do indeed go together (stop bouncing your pecs in the mirror when you're done with a chest press asshole...you know who you are) they aren't necessarily always tied together. I've learned a lot working out with intelligent and informed trainers about the body, nutrition, health, wellness and being sore. Having a commitment to being healthier is actually pretty awesome and making lifestyle changes that positively effect both my body and my health are good steps to take. I think growing up in a pretty unhealthy environment engrained in me the idea that being healthy and fit was a bad thing or something to be looked down on. "Why waste your life in a gym or eating healthy foods when you can be fat and happy?" Well fat was certainly not happy and while I'm sure some of that is mental, a lot of it is biological. Low energy levels, inability to walk long distances or even stand for long portions of the day and low self esteem tied with poor body image from years of being unhealthy certainly aren't the way to go. There's a balance between letting the gym and your eating habits take control of your life and letting them govern your decisions. All sorts of studies (which I will leave unreferenced because I don't feel like looking them up right now) have suggested that working out during the day actually makes you more productive and while yes you do have to give that time to being in the gym, it's not a waste at all. I'm starting to look at the time I spend working out or the times I skip the free bread bowl or a slice of pie at the beginning/end of a meal as investments in the future. Sure I "lose" an hour now but it's hopefully going to help me live longer and improve my quality of life when I get old. Growing old (and I mean actually old as in nursing home old) is terrifying to me. I have been to those places and the people who are confined to rascals and walkers with tennis balls on them are pretty depressing. I want the ability to walk and move unassisted as long as I can have it and if that means I have to spend some time in the gym now and maybe skip a movie on the couch now and then well then so be it.

Changing a lifetime of unhealthy choices and habits takes a lot and it's hard most of the time. Of course I'd rather have Doritos than green beans for my snack but I'd also rather be confident going to a beach and taking off my shirt. I spent too much time apologizing for how fat I was (or how fat I perceived myself to be) with my body language and attitude. Shaking all of that off (literally and figuratively speaking) has taken a pretty intense borderline obsession with this process but I keep looking towards the light at the end of the tunnel. When I've built up the body and the health that I'm aiming for and I can start the "maintain" phase I hope it will be a bit easier than the "swimming against the current" mentality I have now. I've still got a ways to go before I'm there mentally but each day is a step in the right direction. (How motivational.)

Huh, this was supposed to be a boring short post about an arm work out.

I wish I had Gob there to make it more interesting...

I ran a quarterly all staff meeting today.

It's as exciting and interesting as it sounds.

It was the biggest thing that happened today. <---Depressing sentence.

My staff is awesome and they had great ideas though so I do have that going for me. Thank goodness they're all so great or I'd be boned. Yay staff!

I'm not gonna write anymore about this. You wouldn't care to read it anyway.

To make up for how boring of a post this is, here's a link to a cat trying to get into boxes that are too small for it.

I admit that in the past I've been a nasty

I love the Little Mermaid.

Guilty.

Super gay? Oh yeah, but you can suck it if you have a problem with it.

Lots of gays seem to like the Little Mermaid too...what is it about this movie that unites all the homos? Well, let's break it down.

*A story about a young girl struggling with living in a place where no one understands her. (Ghey)

* Singing/Dancing undersea life. (Ghey)

* A young girl searching for a forbidden true love. (Ghey)

* Some of the best Disney songs ever written. (Ghey)

* A Disney Villain modeled after a drag queen (Ghey g-ghey ghey ghey)

Urusla is the best Disney villain ever. (Malificent is scarier than Ursula but Ursula is such a better overall villain.) She has the best villain song too. Today I youtubed "Poor Unfortunate Souls" to catch up on all the words and re-familiarize myself with the song that I as a child had memorized.

A little piece of me died to see that The Jonas Brothers have done a cover of the song but I pressed on. I now proudly know all the words to "Poor Unfortunate Souls" and have sung it basically every day since learning. If I could audition with this song I absolutely would.

While I might not be able to use it professionally...the drag race is coming up soon...

Facebook update: Your Gall Bladder Meridian has poked you.

Working in the spa industry makes you want to do weird things.

Like asking someone to stick needles in you and paying them for the privilege.

I'd always been a bit curious about acupuncture but am a bit of a needle-phobe and it was always too expensive to just "give it a go". Finally a living social deal came up for an acupuncture session at Creative Hands Massage so I decided to jump on it.

I'll focus mostly on the session as opposed to my review of the space. There are some negative reviews on Yelp which I didn't have any similar issues with but it sounds like it's something I should investigate if I'm going to return for my follow up appointment.

I arrived about 20 minutes early (as is spa courtesy, especially for a first time appointment at an unfamiliar place) and accidentally came in the back door. (Har de har har.) The space is actually in an alley way and a bit tough to find. I opened the door to the studio (which I only knew was the right door because of the recycling bin labeled "CHMassage" by the door. I interrupted the receptionist (who was very sweet) on her lunch break. She led me to the front and had me start filling out the intake form. I met the owner briefly who was apparently working on something for the website. She seemed a bit stressed out but was nice overall.

The intake form was 4 pages long or so. It asked how much water I drink, what color is my tongue, how often I poop and all sorts of other questions. I filled everything out as best I could then was escorted to my room to hang out and wait for my acupuncturist. Zinnia (sp?) showed up with her chakra stone necklace in tow and checked over my intake form and promptly told me we wouldn't be using this one.

"So what hurts?"

"Umm, well nothing really..."

"Well then what do you hope to accomplish with the session?"

"Well honestly I'm a massage therapist and have just always wanted to try this and I got a good deal on the session today so I thought why not...umm I do have tight hamstrings though."

"Alright, we can work with that."

She then asked me all the questions I'd already filled out on the form and we chatted a little bit. I showed her my squat (she also studied Alexander Technique so that's helpful) and we got to work. She decided to focus on my bladder meridian which apparently runs down the center of the back of the leg.

She asked me to take my shorts off and then just sorta hung around. I thought she was going to leave and then come back but she just stood there so I took them off right in front of her (which was a bit awkward but I'm not terribly shy) and got on the table. She started putting the needles in and everyone has asked "what does it feel like?"

Well it feels like a needle going into your leg.

It's not comfortable.

It's not relaxing like a massage.

I don't know how I expected it to be anything like that. I don't know what I expected it to be like but what you *should* expect it to be like is like a needle going into your leg.

That being said it didn't hurt TOO much but it's not comfortable.

So the needles start going in on the bladder meridian and I feel a couple of pulse-like sensations but nothing terribly crazy. A bit pinchy and pokey but overall nothing too out of the ordinary. No overhwhelming sense of relaxation or release. No super painful pokes. Just sorta run of the mill needles in the leg sensations.

Then she said "Let's try some of the Gall Bladder meridian, it's right here along your IT band"

*poke*

"Whoa....what is that?!"

This time I felt something big. The needle went in to my GB Meridian and it felt like a rush of water from my hip to my knee converging on the spot about 3/4 up my thigh. The spot pulsated for a couple of minutes and I had a pretty strong response to all the remaining GB meridian needles.

"This must be your meridian."

"What does that mean?"

"It's the meridian of creativity and vision..."

Well...sure that sounds nice but I still don't really know what it means.

After putting 10 needles in each leg she said "Now you relax for a bit" and left the room.

She left with no music playing and no time frame for when she'd return so I started trying to zen out a bit. (I also snuck a peak of my legs just to see the needles sticking out and it wasn't as terrifying as I anticipated.)

I'm a bit of an antsy person. I move around a lot. I toss and turn before I fall asleep and my mom always called me a "wallerer" (which is apparently a southern term that not everyone understands...think of someone rolling around on the floor mainly for the tactile stimulation they get from rolling around...or a cat doing lots of slow stretches just because...that's what it means to waller). This just means I can't stay still for too long unless I'm totally asleep or totally blissed out. Needles in the leg = not totally blissed out.

I tried to just chill on the table but the urge to move even just a tiny bit kept sneaking up. I had no idea how long I was going to be on the table and that uncertainly just made it worse. I kept wanting to roll over but could barely move without the needles changing position and pinching a bit. Finally after what felt like about half an hour she came back to take all the needles out. I got off the table and she had me do another squat. She said it looked better but I couldn't really tell much difference. We scheduled an appointment not with her but with another acupuncturist 6 weeks from today. I tried to tip her (whoops) and was told "This is a medical procedure, there's no tip." Hopefully I didn't piss her off...I didn't know the etiquette.

The owner told me it varies from acupuncturist to acupuncturist...some that she had would take tips and others refuse them. So now I have zero standard and run the risk of looking like a cheap bastard or a trashy douche anytime I go to a new person. Maybe I'll just ask on the phone.

For a couple of hours after my right calf was pretty sore...as if I'd just gotten a much deeper shot in the middle of the muscle belly. It went away the next day and I had a training session. Apparently I looked a lot more flexible to my trainer and my hamstrings were "pretty impressive" as far as flexibility goes. My squats were better, my caterpillars were better and my overall range of motion improved. Now was this due to acupuncture or the fact that my body is just getting better at the moves now that I've been doing them pretty consistently? Not entirely sure.

Overall reaction is I'm going to keep my 6 week appointment (as long as nothing more fun comes up) and see if it helps more with a stronger focus on the Gall Bladder meridian. The rates at the clinic are pretty cheap so it's wroth it at least to experiment. I'll update when the time comes.

The Pitter Patter of White Noise

I live in the attic of a 100 year old row house.

Temperature control is a bitch but it's the biggest room in the house. It has a horribly ugly green carpet but is such a cool space that despite it's flaws I do love living there.

One of my favorite things about the room is that my ceiling is basically the roof (see "issues with temperature control) so when it rains it sounds amazing.

I'm not really one for white noise machines but if they could mimic what is sounds like in that room I would sleep like a baby every night. While I usually have difficulty falling asleep, when it's raining and I'm in my room I am out.

With all the stressful things in my life right now, it's nice to have something so small have such a strong effect.

Dear rain, please don't rain on Sundays when I have free time to do things but do rain every night around midnight-2am. Thanks.

"It'd be cute if you weren't gay...well it's still pretty cute."

Today (8/13) was a pretty busy day at work with lots of boring work things going on and then a fairly uneventful evening so this post is a bit of a stretch for "experience" but hey they can't all be winners right?

After coming back from lunch with my work wife we ended up getting caught in a pretty torrential downpour. Work and lunch aren't even a full block away from each other but we still ended up getting soaked. She had an umbrella and I did not so we decided to make the trek under the one brella. From the outside it looked pretty adorable. What a romantic/playful thing. Sharing an umbrella and clinging to one another to stay dry while running through the rain giggling. It's so sweet my teeth hurt but sadly "work wife" is but a title and her parts just don't do it for me. (Much to my father's chagrin.)

While this time it wasn't quite the romantic romp I'd like for it to be, it's cute to practice.

And you shall be...

I had a couple of reasons to become a massage therapist.

1) It was more lucrative than teaching or theatre/music.

2) I was always pretty good at it

3) It fit into my schedule

4) It was flexible so when I do start doing theatre/music again I have some sway in my hours.

5) There's a bit of a romantic ideal to working in a spa and the idea of traveling the world as a massage therapist was really appealing.

6) I like working with people.

I think these are all pretty standard reasons for lots of people to become massage therapists. Well I got a bit of a pat on the back today which is always nice.

I have a client I have seen a handful of times and each time I have always gotten the vibe that the client was unhappy with me as a therapist. That, despite my best efforts, they left the spa less than satisfied. I don't know what gave me that impression (demeanor? tone of voice? body posture?) but I always felt a bit like they were disappointed. (You may notice I'm not giving my client a gender, mainly to protect client confidentiality...any time I write about an experience in the spa it will remain as vague as I can leave it and still tell the story.)

Well today the spa got a call from one of the trainers at the gym requesting me specifically for their client. I work fairly closely with the PT department so my name is probably at the top of most of their recommendation lists whether or not they've worked with me before because I'm one of the only therapists they would even be aware of. The trainer said their client was complaining of an issue in their neck and was about to go on a long business trip and they had to get in. My book was closed off but I said they could come in for a 30 minute session to see what we could take care of.

When I saw who the client was I thought that the trainer had probably forced me as the therapist because they knew my name and knew I had a solid reputation but the client still wasn't excited about it.

I consulted with now my client and found out the source of their pain and what the issues were with range of motion and got to work. About midway through the massage (after the client actually stopped to take a work phone call) they said:

"I'm so glad you were here and could see me. You always fix me. I've gone to other therapists and I always feel a bit better when they're done. You fix me though. You should do as many massages as you can because it will be great for your karma. Being a healer is so amazing and you're a healer."

Wow. I gotta say that's a pretty strong reinforcement that I'm doing something right. This client went from one I was certain didn't like me to one of my biggest fans. Clearly it's silly of us as therapists to impose anything on our clients or to assume anything about what they think of us unless we're told directly. I'm confident in my abilities as a massage therapist and I like to think that I do certainly help people get better but there's some sort of density to the word healer that I'm not sure if I'm ready to own just yet. I aspire to one day be comfortable with that title but in the meantime it's really nice to know that at least someone already gives it to me.