Student Massage Clinics
Once a friend massaged my shoulders and the base of my neck, she exclaimed, “You have no tension in your back.”
If only she could’ve felt my back in the last few weeks. I was taken back to junior and senior year when random Pressers could walk into the office and see me or Tyler lying on the floor with chairs to either side one of us walking on the other’s back. We were nuts!!!
I’ve just started graduate school (after a two year break) and a new job as a grant writer (the most recent I applied for is in the neighbourhood of $350,000). That means serious tension.
Enter Adam Reichardt. Yes, he was my primary masseuse for several years but things are different now. We live many miles apart and his arms aren’t nearly long enough. His good will and kind thoughts, however, know no distance. He said he wanted to present me with a massage for my birthday but was far too lazy to do the leg work. Instead, he ripped up the check I’d written him for his birthday present (also a massage) and told me I’d best locate someone willing to rub my back in Northampton.
Being the allegedly broke student that I am, I raised my brows when I found The Massage School in nearby Easthampton. They offer a student clinic where you pay $25 (+ tip) for an hour long massage!
Did you get that? $25 (+ tip) for an hour! Even though they call it a great opportunity for their students, I felt like I was taking advantage of them. Yet I couldn’t let this seemingly sweet offer pass me by. I made the call and insisted Katherine come along, too.
The entry way is small and becomes crowded very quickly. Especially when the student therapists are standing about with baskets calling your name as you’re trying to sign in and pay. You fill out a form similar to one you would at any spa and converse with your masseuse on the areas you’d like to focus on or avoid. Then, you get down to business.
The room where I got my massage had eight (heated) tables and three stalls for changing. It was a mix of men and women (both therapist and those receiving massages) since I had not specified a man or woman masseuse. They ask when you make an appointment. The music wasn’t my favourite and I didn’t love the twinkle lights but at $25 an hour, I don’t have much room for complaints especially when the massage was pretty good. After the hour ends and you’re back in civilian clothes, the student therapist has a brief conversation with you asking how it went and offering suggestions to ease the pain when in between massages.
I’ll be back after my season opener for skiing (last weekend of November) and definitely after I turn in my two final papers in mid-December.
Fellow graduate students in western Massachusetts (or really anyone), go very quickly lest you miss this great deal.
So It Goes, New York (Part I)
Editor’s note: I could have back dated this entry to the actual day that I left New York: Thursday, 03 September 2009. But, I wouldn’t have told a fair story. They say since it’s memory, it’s false. There wouldn’t be justice to this letter if it were anything more or less than what it is in this moment. This is where I stand nearly two months after beginning the journey of leaving New York City.
Dearest ones,
Friendships are an interesting phenomenon. There are moments when we feel overwhelmed by them; others when we feel desperate for them. Transitions are terrifying for this very reason.
When I think of you, rarely can I distinguish the “Aha!” moment of our friendship. Somewhere in the crevices of my brain, I remember our first meeting. Certainly, there are some among you who spent far too many hours with me in that corner office on the ninth floor of the former New York Times building. Other with whom I bonded while slinging chocolate in Park Slope. Regardless of where I’ve met you, you have left a deep and profound impact on my being.
Whether we speak rarely or often, by post or phone or through countless social media, I want to thank those who have offered me unconditional friendship. Some among you have known me well while others have been party to a more fleeting relationship. It matters not. Your gift is not lost upon me.
In moments of mistrust, I’ve looked to you for help. Your friendship is a healing salve. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.
Cheerfully yours,
Neelofer
Southern Sojourn
Once upon a time, across the great expanse of the Americas, God put down his foot and said the area underneath shall be mine. It shall be the home of the my truest followers for they will raise high their hatred and spit vengefully upon all who dare go against my will.
That was the Bible Belt. We’re going to cruise through it. We’re stopping for peaches in Georgia and hiking the Appalachian in North Carolina. There’s country music and sandy beaches. And, of course, our starting point and end points: two of the most amazing cities to grace the country in which we live.
Pack your flasks, ladies. It’s going to be a wild ride.
Full photo sets on Flickr and Facebook.
NY <3s Neelofer: Taxi Edition
Though Brooklyn’s changed quite drastically in the last few years, getting a cab can still be a hassle. That is, if you tell the cabbies where you’re going. My trick? Get in then talk. They can’t kick you out.
But my cynicism was laid to rest Friday night, when an off-duty cabbie picked me up on Fifth Avenue and Park Place at 2 a.m.
Jamal Mohammad rolls down his window, “Where are you going?”
Me, wincing, “Washington Avenue. Just a few blocks east of here.”
Jamal: “Oh, near St. Marks?”
Me: “Um, no, St. Johns but that’s just a few blocks from there” as I open the door to the cab.
Jamal: “Yeah, go ahead get in. I think I’ve driven you before.”
For that Jamal, I give you a 40 percent tip and a great thanks for preventing me from being entirely cynical.
Hello, New England!
I’ll be starting an English MA/Ph.D. program at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst in Fall 2009. Good things lie ahead. They include photographs.
Being a grad student is like becoming all of the Seven Dwarves. In the beginning you’re Dopey and Bashful. In the middle, you’re usually sick (Sneezy), tired (Sleepy), and irritable (Grumpy). But at the end, they call you Doc, and then you’re Happy.
A Two-Wheeled Summer
Cycling New York has played an instrumental role in maintaining my mental and physical health for the last two years. Thus, I’m making it a fundamental part of my last summer in NYC.
I’m kicking off the season with the Montauk Century on Sunday, 17 May. To prepare for such a long ride, I’ll be indulging in many training rides in the next two months. I would love some company so I encourage you to tune up your bike for this season.
Here’s where I’ll be:
- Brooklyn Sojourn (Sunday, Mar. 22):
40 miles, moderate, mostly flat. Starts at City Hall in downtown Manhattan at 9 AM. - Metric Training Ride #1 – Hicksville (Sunday, Mar. 29):
35 miles. Starts at Cunningham Park in Queens at 9:30 AM. - Metric Training Ride #2 – Englewood (Saturday, April 11):
30 miles. Starts at Columbus Circle in Manhattan at 9:00 AM. - Metric Training Ride #3 – City Island (Saturday, April 18):
40 miles. Starts at Columbus Circle in Manhattan at 9:00 AM. - Ride, Fix Flats, Eat, Bike Course Ride (Saturday, April 25):
25 – 30 miles. Starts at Columbus Circle in Manhattan at 10:00 AM. - Meet at the Gunks (Sunday, May 3):
55 miles at 15 mph with rolling hills. Starts at Grand Central Terminal at 8:30 AM. - Metric Training Ride #4 – Piermont (Sunday, May 10):
50 miles. Starts at Columbus Circle at 9:00 AM.
Adam, Porch
We’re running out of porch-sitting weather, old friend, so you’d best be back to knitting that sweater. And if you’re gonna get me something to drink, I think I’ll take a glass of red wine and not a cold beer. That great and baffling thing about our lil’ species is the ongoing ability to be surprised by the same thing over and over again. So look out, Virgo, here comes the cold weather! AHHHH!
