So I had my 56th birthday last Thursday. It was, um, interesting.
First of all I decided to book a cheap hotel room down in Virginia Beach for the night. For many years I've tried to always be down there on my actual birthday. If it's a day trip the routine is swimming, body surfing, boogie boarding and fifty dollar hotdogs. We used to always joke that foot long hot dogs, cokes and banana splits for the four of us ran a good fifty bucks. They do. Beach prices.
If we spent the night there then I always go out and do some sort of surfing at midnight, alone or with whoever is there. However I haven't 'real' surfed much since my asthma went crazy ten years ago. So I settle for a short board or boogie board now. No standing and immediately falling down from my very crappy balance issues. Must get a paddle board and try that.
Right after I finished booking a hotel room online the day before Jim got home from his immersion Spanish classes at the nearby university and wanted to take me out for Chinese food. What I didn't count on is that he invited a couple from our old church that we're still friendly with. I was very unpleased by that surprise.
Why? This is the same woman who I love but has told me that we must get demon deliverance ministry in the aftermath of Jim's firing from his part time job last month. She also was so incredibly judgmental and unpleasant during our October beach vacation to me every time we were alone I wasn't sure we could still be friends. She lectured me continually about how my position updating NLQ was sinful.
Fuck. That. Noise! After our experience ten years ago with deliverance ministry and lots of exit therapy I see how childish and stupid the idea of demons lurking everywhere is. We humans screw up enough on our own and shoot our own toes off so that there's no real need for an evil boogieman to mess with us. The ultimate evil is many times us. I know I routinely enough screw up that I don't need to blame it on some demons when it's caused by my own fear, ignorance, stupidity, greed, insert your favorite venial sin here.
The lunch went well but I took a relaxant as soon as I realized Jim had planned this 'surprise' for me and I downed a couple of glasses of wine with my lunch. I was on tenterhooks all during the meal waiting for the judgmentalism to come out to play.
The next day we went to the beach and the weatherman was seriously wrong. It was supposed to be sunny and warm, but the closer we got to the beach the foggier it got. In all my trips to Va. Beach, week long trips, day trips and overnighters (a pile since it's a mere 2.5 hours from home) I've never once seen fog like this. That first night I lay in the bed watching the fog slide away under the street lights like a natural lava lamp. Took a ton of photographs.
The hotel had seen better days, but that was alright. It was cheap, it was close enough to look at the ocean from the balcony and it was clean. I'm usually a stickler over hotel rooms being well appointed and maintained... except at the beach because I rarely do more than just sleep in the room. I'm going to keep this place in mind for the next time I go back because the suites have full kitchens. I'm willing to overlook torn edges on the carpeting and various flaws for clean sheets with no bedbugs and a full kitchen.
Jim gave me a book on raising orchids as a birthday present, which is almost comical because when I worked at the international florist all the calls on orchid care were funneled to me. I've raised them for years. But I have learned a thing or two from the book.
Hit my favorite lady's clothing store at the beach for more clothes in regular sizes and we had some pretty fabulous meals down there. The only thing that worked out to be something of a drag is that we went to a massage spa that Jim loves down there. We got massages at the same time in the same room. Heard that they used 'Young Living' oils, which is a drag because I tend to react rather violently asthmatic to their scented oils. That was part of the problem with the house in San Marcos over the holidays, the entire house had been cleaned with Young Living scented oils. I told the masseuse that I cannot handle any of their scented oils so she used an unscented oil on me.
It was fine at first, but four hours later I was in agony, my skin was covered with angry red welts, and I was wheezing some. Yes, I am apparently allergic to their product, no matter how they try to claim on their website that if you break out it's from 'detoxification'. Nope, I had a full blown horrible allergic reaction that required a ton of meds to turn off. I'm still having asthma and hyper sensitivity in the wake of the oil use and still scrubbing to get it off my clothing and skin.
Even in my old fundy days I never really bought the premise that using essential oils was the main way to health. My ex friend dying of a cancer that might have been treatable in the early stages who has only used essential oils for health kind of caps my thoughts on this. If you want to use essential oils because you think you benefit from them or they smell pretty you should. But to throw aside regular checkups and claim the oil is going to cure all your ills is pretty naive.
The massage was nice, but rather disappointing. But then again I was measuring it, and every other massage I've had since with the one in Costa Rica where the masseuse walked on my back and pulled my arms at the same time. I've discovered than when I get a massage I want the hardest thing possible. I told this young gal to hurt me, make it hurt so good, but she just timidly rubbed me. If I don't hurt when you're done I know that in a few days I will no have received much benefit from the pummeling. I like hard intense medical massages for my back. This was not that.
Maybe I'm turning into a raving masochist in my old age?