Good Life

Good Life - Kanye West f. T-Pain

It's just before ten, I'm done my shower and waiting for our domestic helper to make my breakfast. That's how every morning is here . . . I'm never able to sleep in so I get up when Colby does and am given a breakfast of milk tea and PB&J toast.

On Friday night after I sent DC home from our Tour De Fromage and my sister finished watching the Eason Chan concert, we headed up to somewhere in China for some pampering. Not surprisingly, the express bus we took was mostly filled with men . . . was not impressed when the guy sitting across the aisle from me started puking less than five minutes after the bus departed the depot. I spent the rest of the half-hour drive sitting with my back turned to him, secretly thanking God that at least the regurgitated mass in his plastic bag did not stink.

After showering in the changing room, we settled into recliners a big room. There must've been over two hundred such chairs, each with a personal flat screen for clients to watch TV on while getting their seventy-five minute long foot/leg massages. Am quite impressed, as the last time I had my feet worked on [getting pedis with Tee at Pure], it was an absolute gong show. No laughing this time!

After that was done, we moved to a private room and each got three hours worth of massages. While some parts of me feel quite relaxed after that, other parts feel . . . so friggin' sore. My shoulders are feeling the way they used to after the first volleyball practice in September after a summer off. My lower back just feels plain old beat up. Yup, my girl worked me over quite well.

All that . . . for three people . . . for no more than the equivalent of a C-note. Some things are just ridiculously cheap.

Am having some problems uploading pictures from DC's memory card to my computer. Will post about Le Tour De Fromage when I figure that out.