Yes, You May

Tra-la! It's May!
The lusty month of May!
That lovely month when ev'ryone goes
Blissfully astray!

Allergies aside, May is my favorite month of the year and today it begins. Besides my natal anniversary, I'm one of those oddballs who actually loves summer, yes, heat and humidity and all.

Add in long days, beach time and the ability to wear cuter clothes and I'm I'm all aflutter that May is here and the season of sun and wicked thoughts is just ahead.

I began my May Day celebration with my walk, haphazardly getting a peek at some of the collegiate  bikers in town for this weekend's race when I strolled by the Doubletree and saw a clutch of them in Spandex and bike shoes milling about a Les-McRae College van, looking eager to mount and start.

The street closures are already causing congestion in my neighborhood given how close to both Broad and Belvidere I live, but I refuse to get my panties in a wad because of vehicular inconvenience when we've got all these cyclists in town for the weekend not only to entertain us, but to further the cause of Richmond becoming more of a true cycling city.

After my walk, I was off to begin my birthday month with my annual gift to myself: a massage.

Although it's been a year since my last massage, the girl remembered me, saying she recognized my name at once when she saw it in her schedule book. Given my innocuous name, that's quite a memory.

There's nothing like taking off your clothes so a stranger can rub all the knots out of you and that hour passed in a wet noodle flash. I could have a massage every week of my life and never tire of being pummeled.

Now May could officially begin.

Back home, I walked over to Black Sheep for lunch, enjoying the fragrance of all the trees and bushes in bloom, looking for an appropriately light lunch on the menu, eventually choosing a wedge salad with Granny Smith apple slices, celery, grapes, croutons and goat cheese under honey mustard dressing.

But, inspired by the menu's humor - vegetarian's soup: because you care, omnivore's soup: because you don't - I also ordered a side of bacon with my salad. Because I don't care.

"Now you're just making me hungry," the server said when she brought my two plates. "That looks like a great combination!"

And it was. My only complaint was that the stellar housemade honey mustard dressing, full of flavorful mustard seeds, was ladled on with a heavy hand and all but drowned out the ingredients of the salad, which struck me as a cross between a wedge and a waldorf salad.

But I made do, wiping off the thickest parts, adding in all that bacon and feeling like I'd hit on a lovely May Day lunch.

Feeling lusty and looking for more ways to go blissfully astray before it's all over.

Coveting the Unicorn

I walked downstairs to leave my apartment this evening and discovered an orchid perched atop my mailbox.

There was no card or note to indicate where it came from.

It's a beautiful pink color, much like a lot of the wine I've been drinking this weekend, and I have no clue who left it.

It must be a birthday present, right?

Yesterday I got home from the house music show, here, to unexpectedly find a shiny purple bag containing wine and a CD on my front porch.

That time, there was a card, so I at least knew the source of the obviously-chosen-for-me gifts.

Most of the people who know me shy away from giving me music, afraid that I'll have it or it won't be to my odd taste.

This was spot on, as was the wine choice. Definitely a birthday present.

Last night at my birthday soiree, one of my favorite couples gave me a-- wait for it --shellacked wooden unicorn-head clock.

It is the most impressive piece of heavily-plasticized wood designed for telling time that anyone there had ever seen.

I kept it close to me all night because I knew that others were coveting it.

If you saw it, you'd understand what I'm saying.

And this evening I gave myself a birthday gift.

A friend has been telling me about the chair massages they do at Globehopper Coffee on Mondays between 5 and 8:00 for $1 a minute.

After a solid four nights of birthday debauchery, I had some girl parts that were a bit knotted, so I placed myself in the capable hands of Margo and in front of god and Globehopper, melted into that chair to be pummeled.

It's funny about presents.

I didn't need a single thing I was given for my birthday, but they were all stuff that I love: music, wine, chocolate, flowers.

Wait, let me correct that.

I needed that shellacked wooden unicorn-head clock.

My abode, and by default me, became infinitely cooler the moment I hung it.

That's a birthday gift that will keep on giving...with or without the AA battery.

A Thank You Note for The Rub

My plans for the Winter Solstice were to spend it with a friend who had suggested a surprise outing together. I had no idea where we'd be going, only that we'd finish with a late lunch at Thai Diner. He said I could try to guess, but I'm not the guessing type, so I cleared my schedule and anticipated the afternoon.

So with no idea of what was in store, I got into his car and headed off into the unknown. He didn't keep me in suspense for long, though; we were going to have massages and it was his Christmas gift to me. As someone who has had a truly awful year, I knew I had enough tension in my body to keep a masseuse busy until her hands gave out so I was beyond thrilled. I have to say that a surprise gift of a massage was about the most wonderful thing that I could have heard at that moment.

He had set it up so that we would to have our massages in the same room, but with a partition dividing it for privacy (we're friends after all, so we don't get naked in front of each other). Upon arrival, it turned out that a pregnant woman had co-opted the divided room, so we used discretionary disrobing techniques and averted eyes to prevent any glimpses of friend flesh. And then I just melted into the table as my body got the once -over.

My favorite gift has always been words. I like nothing better than than a letter or e-mail when someone wants to give me a present. But today's gift of a massage on a body with a year's worth of stress and a broken heart may have been the kindest thing done for me in many moons.

I'm glad that today being the shortest day means that from here on out, the days will start getting longer. I'm even more grateful that I have such a thoughtful friend who knew exactly what I needed (without a word from me) and generously gave it to me.

And wouldn't you know, after feeling completely certain that no one would ever see this morning's big snow-induced bruise, the masseuse not only saw it, she commented that it wasn't too bad...yet.