Then He Oh So Adroitly Unsnapped My Bra….

Nicole better not quit her day job because clearly there is not future for me in porn writing. I have a feeling “adroitly” isn’t used very often in Penthouse. Is Penthouse even still around? See, I don’t even know the market anymore. My ONE piece of porn advice is this: Never buy porn at your local newsstand, the one you go to on a regular basis. Newsstand workers have a loooooong memory and smirky smiles. What might have seemed like a good idea at the time will come back to haunt you every time to pick up a newspaper or the latest issue of Martha Stewart Living.

Anyway, there I was, facedown on a warm bed, when my bra was unsnapped with one hand by my acupuncturist. One hand. That is talent. Not sure why I was even wearing a bra, except me told me to keep my undergarments on, and I listened. What is this, the 1800s? I get a little tired of the modestly game, how I have to wear the gown open in a certain way and then be draped with towels, all to protect the acupuncturist from seeing too much of my skin at one time. Part of me appreciates the modest touches, but a bigger part of me finds it difficult to flip from my back to my stomach and remove my shoulders from my gown, which is open to the front, in any sort of graceful way. It wasn’t pretty. Next session I will need to bring a lighting specialist if I have to continue to go out of my way to hide myself. But really, can’t we just get naked and call it a day? It is far more comfortable than having a gown scrunched down to my waist and a thick towel placed over my butt. Besides, if I were naked then he most likely wouldn’t be using my butt as a place to stack his needles. Never have been a fan of my butt being used as a side table. But I was too Zen-ed out to complain, and slightly afraid that someone with so much knowledge about body parts and channels and all that could easily switch from acupuncturist to voodoo artist if provoked.

This is my first session and I will keep gong back weekly until something changes in me physically, mentally or emotionally, dammit. It is not a chore. I loved my acupuncture guy. He was so New Age hippy, with long hair and bare feet and a really sympathetic smile and that familiar collegiate patchouli smell. He complimented me on my low resting heart rate, which, as I told Nicole, I am abnormally proud of. His assistant, a really tall, imitating German guy, asked if I was an athlete. Except it sounded like “Ahh yew ahn Ahth-leeet?” This seems a very grandiose label for someone who runs and does the occasional plank. But I guess by his definition I am indeed an athlete. I’m gonna own it, and buy myself a track suit.

Topic switch: Today Avery announced that she wanted to go pee pee on potty. Ok, this is a good step. She proceeded to sit on the potty, drinking water, eating ice chips and chatting for almost 45 minutes. In this time I finished my venti iced coffee with an extra shot and was ready to explode. I didn’t want to break Avery’s concentration so I took one for the team and waited. And Madeline was pulling me into the kitchen because she wanted to eat crushed ice. But Avery insisted I stay by her side. It was tough. I have a feeling this process is going to suck in a huge way. I promised Avery big prizes if she delivered, including an entire afternoon of free access to my iPad. She agreed to all this, but the suddenly announced she wanted off the potty and wanted her diaper back. You all know what happened next. Yep. 45 minutes and she uses the damn diaper. Is this some sort of joke? Do children try to push out buttons? Are we getting closer with her?

Thank God tomorrow is Friday and we are heading up to Mass for the weekend. I am so ready to get out of here.

Pictured above, my mother-in-law might kills me if she knew I posted this, but she doesn’t read my blog, so there. But I love that pic of her with Nicole and Nicole’s sister. I also love the picture of her teaching Avery golf. These girls have a family of golfers around them. They better like playing!