So I totally had this brilliant post all figured out while I was at work, and then I got home and had food and now my brainmeatz are teh dead.
Stupid brain.
Anyway...
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
nom nom nom pie
So, knitting group was fun. I was totally the only person wearing a Ridiculous Hat, but that's okay. I fully expect that the trend will take off like gangbusters in a matter of weeks.
Additionally, the sweet potato pie I made was a big hit. I am the Queen of Pie the past couple days...sheperds' pie, then apple pie, then sweet 'tato. Next thing I know, I'm gonna morph into Martha Stewart or some crap.
Okay, yeah, probably not so much. I haven't got the faintest idea about interior decorating.
Off to go watch another Desperate Housewives episode while I knit.
Additionally, the sweet potato pie I made was a big hit. I am the Queen of Pie the past couple days...sheperds' pie, then apple pie, then sweet 'tato. Next thing I know, I'm gonna morph into Martha Stewart or some crap.
Okay, yeah, probably not so much. I haven't got the faintest idea about interior decorating.
Off to go watch another Desperate Housewives episode while I knit.
Thursday Is Ridiculous Hat Day.
Yes, it is official.
Thursdays are now the Platypus-Appointed Day For The Wearing Of Ridiculous Hats.
I will be doing my bit by wearing my top hat to Knitting Group tonight.
Hilarity will no doubt abound. I shall update you on this later tonight when I get home.
Thursdays are now the Platypus-Appointed Day For The Wearing Of Ridiculous Hats.
I will be doing my bit by wearing my top hat to Knitting Group tonight.
Hilarity will no doubt abound. I shall update you on this later tonight when I get home.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
SHE LIVES.
Holy crapmonkeys, it's been a month since I posted anything? Guh. I so massively fail at life for my shameful neglect of you, O INTERNETZ THAT I ADORE SO MUCH.
Let's see, what amazingly entertaining shenanigans have been going on in the Life of the Platypus lately? Um...oh em gee, this totally calls for bullet points!
For the record, you guys should totally go watch Mega-Shark vs. Giant Octopus. Debbie Gibson trying to pretend to be a marine biologist? HILARITY ENSUES.
I am way too fond of my caps lock key.
Let's see, what amazingly entertaining shenanigans have been going on in the Life of the Platypus lately? Um...oh em gee, this totally calls for bullet points!
- I have been been on a knitting bender LIKE WHOA. I thought it would be a Super Cool Awesomely Brilliant idea to try to knit giftymas presents for the in-laws (because there's only four of them; there's eleventy-kazillion people in my family so knitting presents for all of them is right out), but I now realize that this is about as likely as me suddenly becoming President of the World and having a movie deal in the works where Mr. Platypus is played by Johnny Depp or Nathan Fillion and hel-LO, would that not be AWESOME? You need to get right on that, Hollywood! Oh, wait, where was I going with this? Uh...
- I had two interviews for a sooper-dooper new job at a Mad Crazy Fancy Spa. I did not get hired at said Mad Crazy Fancy Spa. Strangely, this bothers me not at all. I think I would implode from sheer boredom if I had to do nothing but relaxation-oriented massage all day. I like fixin' busted muscles, yo. It's my thing; it's what I do.
- I have gotten exactly nothing accomplished towards the whole Going Back To School endeavor. I did, however, begin considering whether I wanna just lose my mind and double-major in Biology and Human Health/Rehab for the bachelor's degree bit of it. Ponder, ponder, ponder.
- I now weigh the same as I did in high school! NONE OF MY PANTS FIT AND THIS IS AWESOME. No, for serious. I adore the fact that all of my pants are baggy as hell and I'm no longer Rocking The Sexy in them. Because honestly, I'm all slender and sexalicious with my bad self. Oh, Reverse Crunch Extensions. You and I are bee-eff-effs FOR LIFE. Okay, I'm done gloating. For now.
No, come to think of it, I'm probably not done. - I managed not to beat Crazy Mommy-Dearest-In-Law over the head with a pepper grinder during Thanksgiving dinner! Probably because we had dinner in a restaurant, and I didn't want to Cause A Scene, but yanno, whatevs. Point remains that I didn't maim her (despite ample provocation, let me tell you. That woman, she is the crazy.).
For the record, you guys should totally go watch Mega-Shark vs. Giant Octopus. Debbie Gibson trying to pretend to be a marine biologist? HILARITY ENSUES.
I am way too fond of my caps lock key.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Hmm.
I suppose that I should not be so irritated about the dreadful tips yesterday...after all, we wound up fully booked, and I do get paid per massage I perform. Still, yesterday was pretty seriously sucktastic.
Y'see, the Big Boss in their infinite wisdom decided that they were going to send out an email coupon telling folks that they could get their 55-minute massage for some ridiculously low price (I believe it was fifty bucks) and their 80-minute massage for some other ridiculously low price (I think it was eighty bucks) on Oct 31. and Nov. 1 only. Naturally, the clients took advantage of this; who wouldn't? I therefore wound up with five 55-minute sessions yesterday.
Ordinarily, I would have been pretty darn thrilled about that. After all, staying busy makes time seem to pass faster, and I do like the chance to make several good tips. I was not very thrilled, though, when all but one client tipped fifteen percent based on the discounted price rather than the regular price. (One client tipped me five dollars. I felt insulted, because I'd really tried to deliver the best massage that I could. It felt like they were telling me that my time and skills are neither important nor valued. Sigh.)
I realize that I'm being a whiny little twerp right now. I realize that people don't necessarily think about tipping us therapists (despite the friendly little "for your convenience, here is a chart listing 15% of the massage price, 20% of the massage price, etc" signs in every massage room and at the front desk. Oh, and the discreet little tip envelopes.). I just feel like four out of my five clients yesterday were trying to tell me that they think that my skills and training are a joke.
One of the ten-dollar tippers is a regular client who comes in for a massage with their significant other about once a month, and always tips ten bucks. This is after their significant other spends the entire massage being a demanding, whiny pain in the posterior and snarking at me "is Client asleep? They better not be asleep. Are you doing Swedish massage? They like Swedish massage. Don't go too deep with the pressure." while simultaneously yammering at their therapist about how they are such a Special Snowflake who deserves Top-Drawer Treatment. Client, for some reason known only to them, never tells Significant Other to shush. It drives me absolutely bugpoop crazy, so much so that I was in tears last night after they left. Today, I shall talk to my boss about whether I would be permitted to "fire" this client from booking appointments with me. It's unprofessional of me, but my annoyance at Significant Other's shenanigans and Client's inability to understand that tipping is important has affected my ability to give Client a good massage. I don't want Client to pay for a massage that isn't excellent quality, because I'm sure they work hard for their money, and I'd hate to see them waste it.
Anyway. Yeah. Yesterday sucked. I have no clients booked today, and I'm working an eight hour shift. If nothing else, I will be able to study some algebra, do some crocheting, and ponder the mysteries of the universe. Whee!
Y'see, the Big Boss in their infinite wisdom decided that they were going to send out an email coupon telling folks that they could get their 55-minute massage for some ridiculously low price (I believe it was fifty bucks) and their 80-minute massage for some other ridiculously low price (I think it was eighty bucks) on Oct 31. and Nov. 1 only. Naturally, the clients took advantage of this; who wouldn't? I therefore wound up with five 55-minute sessions yesterday.
Ordinarily, I would have been pretty darn thrilled about that. After all, staying busy makes time seem to pass faster, and I do like the chance to make several good tips. I was not very thrilled, though, when all but one client tipped fifteen percent based on the discounted price rather than the regular price. (One client tipped me five dollars. I felt insulted, because I'd really tried to deliver the best massage that I could. It felt like they were telling me that my time and skills are neither important nor valued. Sigh.)
I realize that I'm being a whiny little twerp right now. I realize that people don't necessarily think about tipping us therapists (despite the friendly little "for your convenience, here is a chart listing 15% of the massage price, 20% of the massage price, etc" signs in every massage room and at the front desk. Oh, and the discreet little tip envelopes.). I just feel like four out of my five clients yesterday were trying to tell me that they think that my skills and training are a joke.
One of the ten-dollar tippers is a regular client who comes in for a massage with their significant other about once a month, and always tips ten bucks. This is after their significant other spends the entire massage being a demanding, whiny pain in the posterior and snarking at me "is Client asleep? They better not be asleep. Are you doing Swedish massage? They like Swedish massage. Don't go too deep with the pressure." while simultaneously yammering at their therapist about how they are such a Special Snowflake who deserves Top-Drawer Treatment. Client, for some reason known only to them, never tells Significant Other to shush. It drives me absolutely bugpoop crazy, so much so that I was in tears last night after they left. Today, I shall talk to my boss about whether I would be permitted to "fire" this client from booking appointments with me. It's unprofessional of me, but my annoyance at Significant Other's shenanigans and Client's inability to understand that tipping is important has affected my ability to give Client a good massage. I don't want Client to pay for a massage that isn't excellent quality, because I'm sure they work hard for their money, and I'd hate to see them waste it.
Anyway. Yeah. Yesterday sucked. I have no clients booked today, and I'm working an eight hour shift. If nothing else, I will be able to study some algebra, do some crocheting, and ponder the mysteries of the universe. Whee!
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
we meet again.
So that you may all enjoy the Cheesecake of Ungodly Goodness, I give you this link:
your new raison d'etre
Follow the suggestions given in the first comment down, and your cheesecake will turn out eleventy-seven different kinds of awesome. (I vote for using 'nilla wafers for the crust, rather than graham crackers, but that's because I hate graham crackers.)
So anyway, I have a new obsession! I learned to crochet granny squares last night, and now I am making an afghan out of them. I literally spent like six hours crocheting. It was kind of hilarious. I get like this when I have a new project, though...it becomes almost all I can think about until the "new" wears off, and then it goes back to just being more interesting than the rest of my mental dreck instead of the SHINY NEW THING of the moment.
Wow, that was a long sentence.
Anyway, I have big plans for crocheting myself things like fingerless gloves to keep my hands warm whilst typing, several afghans, perhaps some baby blankets for the friends of mine who have crotchfruit, et cetera and so forth. Enormous amounts of fun will be had. By me. I don't know anyone who would find it all that entertaining to watch me crochet, so I'm thinking I'm most likely the only one who's going to be all that entertained.
You haven't missed any entrancing stories about clients lately, mostly because they've either not been inspired to weirdness or I just haven't noticed their weirdness. There's been a lot on my mind, what with this apparently being the Year for Enormous Drama in my family. Can't give you any details on the Enormous Drama, mostly because none of it is my story to tell.
Gasp. Platypus has some kind of ethics? Shocking!
Actually, I'm keeping my mouth shut because I don't want to cause any sort of yucky familial fallout WHY YES, I HAVE ETHICS, HOW KIND OF YOU TO ASK.
I had to take like eleventy-billion hours of ethics classes at school, after all. Can't have massage therapists running about without ethics. That'd be like running about without underpants! Except you can't exactly get pink flowered ethics, but you can get pink flowered underpants. There was a point to this comparison, but I forgot what it was.
And on an entirely unrelated note, you guys should totally go hiking in New Hamster. Because it is all pretty an' stuff.
Back to the tying-knots-in-yarn I go! Whee!
your new raison d'etre
Follow the suggestions given in the first comment down, and your cheesecake will turn out eleventy-seven different kinds of awesome. (I vote for using 'nilla wafers for the crust, rather than graham crackers, but that's because I hate graham crackers.)
So anyway, I have a new obsession! I learned to crochet granny squares last night, and now I am making an afghan out of them. I literally spent like six hours crocheting. It was kind of hilarious. I get like this when I have a new project, though...it becomes almost all I can think about until the "new" wears off, and then it goes back to just being more interesting than the rest of my mental dreck instead of the SHINY NEW THING of the moment.
Wow, that was a long sentence.
Anyway, I have big plans for crocheting myself things like fingerless gloves to keep my hands warm whilst typing, several afghans, perhaps some baby blankets for the friends of mine who have crotchfruit, et cetera and so forth. Enormous amounts of fun will be had. By me. I don't know anyone who would find it all that entertaining to watch me crochet, so I'm thinking I'm most likely the only one who's going to be all that entertained.
You haven't missed any entrancing stories about clients lately, mostly because they've either not been inspired to weirdness or I just haven't noticed their weirdness. There's been a lot on my mind, what with this apparently being the Year for Enormous Drama in my family. Can't give you any details on the Enormous Drama, mostly because none of it is my story to tell.
Gasp. Platypus has some kind of ethics? Shocking!
I had to take like eleventy-billion hours of ethics classes at school, after all. Can't have massage therapists running about without ethics. That'd be like running about without underpants! Except you can't exactly get pink flowered ethics, but you can get pink flowered underpants. There was a point to this comparison, but I forgot what it was.
And on an entirely unrelated note, you guys should totally go hiking in New Hamster. Because it is all pretty an' stuff.
Back to the tying-knots-in-yarn I go! Whee!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
whurbleburbleflurblegurp
Events in PlatypusLand this past week have included:
The book has been a difficult read for me thus far...it's beautifully written, and I admire the author's courage in coming foward with her story. It's just that the subject matter is...challenging, shall we say. Reminds me of the hours I've yet to spend talking to a therapist. Have I mentioned that I hate talking about unpleasant things? Shocking, I know, considering how much I complain.
As far as the cheesecake goes...it is totally worth the 450 calories per slice. It's all almondy-amaretto-y-smooth-melty-goodness. If it were a man, I'd run away with it to a Caribbean island. Except that might make me a cannibal, because let's face it: if there's a man made of cheesecake out there somewhere, he probably deserves to be eaten. I mean, srsly. It's cheesecake. It's almost better than sex.
Come to think of it, perhaps I should post the recipe sometime. Y'all let me know if you're interested.
I don't really have much else to say right now...gonna go fight with my unruly hair because for some reason it is absolutely crucial to me that I have it in French-braided pigtails right now.
I mean, what's not to love?
- spending eight hours in the emergency room to find out that I had a mild UTI, a case of gastroenteritis, and a 2.5 cm cyst on my left ovary; their symptoms had combined to form something that felt like the Kidney Infection from Hell
- going to Nude Hamster (also known as New Hampshire) to hike and buy cheap booze
- going to the library (because I love the library)
- reading a book entitled After Silence: Rape and My Journey Back, by Nancy Venable Raines
- receiving three or four emails from the admissions department at B.U.; apparently they are desperate for me and my parents (because, y'know, I totally am bringing them along, fact that they live about a thousand miles away notwithstanding) to attend one of their open houses (which are all during my work times)
- and making Mr. Platypus's Favorite Cheesecake of Awesome Tasty Doom.
The book has been a difficult read for me thus far...it's beautifully written, and I admire the author's courage in coming foward with her story. It's just that the subject matter is...challenging, shall we say. Reminds me of the hours I've yet to spend talking to a therapist. Have I mentioned that I hate talking about unpleasant things? Shocking, I know, considering how much I complain.
As far as the cheesecake goes...it is totally worth the 450 calories per slice. It's all almondy-amaretto-y-smooth-melty-goodness. If it were a man, I'd run away with it to a Caribbean island. Except that might make me a cannibal, because let's face it: if there's a man made of cheesecake out there somewhere, he probably deserves to be eaten. I mean, srsly. It's cheesecake. It's almost better than sex.
Come to think of it, perhaps I should post the recipe sometime. Y'all let me know if you're interested.
I don't really have much else to say right now...gonna go fight with my unruly hair because for some reason it is absolutely crucial to me that I have it in French-braided pigtails right now.
I mean, what's not to love?
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