DAY 3: A Queen at the Kingfisher.

I am spending day three and four of my journey at a spa. I’m not really the spa type, but I want to work on my mind and body at the same time and the only way I can do that is by undergoing a strict regimen of meditation and spa treatments that force me to relax. I sound as though I’m harbouring an interest in being a lady of leisure, but it is quite the opposite. I’m trying to change my thinking by veering away from the negative and focusing on the positive. Do you know how hard that is when you’ve been thinking a certain way for the last 29 years? It’s hard work trying to stay positive!! I am the glass half empty girl and changing my thinking is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’d rather run a marathon naked.

So here I am, at the spa, and I’m going to start this story off with something negative. Oh come on, I have to get it out of the way before moving into something positive and besides, negative things are always more fun! I feel there is a big difference between cynicism and negativity, anyway.

I arrive after listening to Diana Krall’s glorious “Quiet Nights” album in its entirety which always reboots my automatic relaxation pilot. Jazz does that for me. This is all prep to satisfy my blown-out-of-proportion imagination about my pending spa experience. I pull up in my shabby Nissan Sentra (frankly, I love my car – been through a lot together. I hope we never break-up) only to find a typical BC spa with ancient lobby décor of drift wood and pictures of unimaginative sea shells. Top it off with dangling strings of dead starfish and call Extreme Makeover Spa Edition. It is almost like they are trying too hard to be “by the sea” when all they needed to do was add more windows to actually show the real sea which is right in front of them, but I digress.

After a chilled greeting by the ice queen-fisher receptionist, I’m rushed off to the spa for my manicure and pedicure. This should be good. To my utmost disappointment, the manicurist has the same name as me. Let’s hope she can live up to it. She starts off my treatment by taking a GIANT pair of nail clippers – possibly something you’d find in a vet’s office on a farm - and starts chopping at my baby finger until I hear “oops!” Who say’s “oops” when cutting someone’s nails?! I immediately look down in horror to find my poor nail chopped down to the skin. So much for long luscious nails. She then uses a cuticle stick to poke back my skin and when I say poke, I mean she jabbed, smashed and peeled my skin off. It hurts so badly that I have to tell her to stop. I’ve never had a manicure that hurt before. Even my weekly “ten dollah” Thai appointments in LA were considered luxurious compared to this.

We then move in agony together towards the next phase of the appointment – nail polish application. At this point, she is enjoying this process almost as much as I am. Wake me up when it’s over. She slathers on the polish as though it is her first time EVER. I know I’m not going to enjoy the rest of this appointment, so I decide to have a little fun and probe her just as much as she has probed me. I ask her, “So, what is across the ocean there?” knowing very well that it is Texada and Powell River, but I thought if she wasn’t from here, maybe she wouldn’t know. If that were true, then I’d understand that she’s new which would satisfy my recently formed compassionate Buddhist heart, resulting in potentially forgiving her for being truly bad at her job. It’s not her fault. She just chose the wrong career. Door number two would have been the better option. Simple mistake, now leave. In response to my fairly simple question she surprises me more than I could have ever imagined. She answers hesitantly with an “Um…I think…to my knowledge (which is apparently very little) it is the United States.” Oh dear. My compassionate Buddhist heart has slumped to shaking its head. So I just nod and say “Are you from around here?” hoping she would say “no, I’m from Butt-fuck, Ontario” but instead she says she is from Courtney which is quite literally a hop, skip and a jump away. She may share the same name as me, but definitely not the same brain. She also has a twin. Scary.

I did manage to get a discount on my manicure. Score! It was also $65, so a discount of 35% made it actually a normal priced manicure. Boo urns.

I kind of figure maybe I too should have chosen door number two and given my right arm to go to “The Golden Door” for my celebrity spa treatment experience in Escondido, California (insert angels singing). I still may, but apparently their meals are calorie counted and who would want that when all you want to do at a spa is eat crap and sit on your spa-a-fied butt all day?? No thanks.

I continue my journey to a massage by a German lady. I am a little scared. My dad’s German, I should know. To my gracious surprised she is actually Swiss! Phew! They are much meeker and less intimidating. This is why they never go to war and claim “neutral” status. It is a disguise for “weak” but that’s fine. They make great cheese, so I forgive them. At this point, I have little hopes for a spa-tastic massage, but guess what? This woman is amazing. Positive! Not only does she give me a massage to die for but she gives me a whole lesson on how to conquer stress. Wow! It is like listening to a PBS book on tape minus the dollar begging PBS intermissions.

I sleep a sweet slumber that night until morning.

I tried what is called a hydrotherapy treatment which consists of some laughable waterfalls on my head and a really nice mineral bath which I kind of enjoyed, except I found bits of seaweed in my under garments afterwards. A little gross, but I did enjoy the mineral bath's healthy benefits, though. I'm not sure what those are, but I felt alive. Positive! See? I’m getting good at this.

I also give kudos to the chef at the Kingfisher (he’s German, by the way) because his meals are superb! This is when the German task master perfectionism comes in handy. Always trust a German chef in the kitchen. You won't get sick.

I also did yoga this morning and I had a transformative experience. My anxious thoughts and mind just stopped. Stopped completely. I think I may have found the key to my stress!! I am so excited that I want to take Hatha yoga everyday until the day I die. I would also like a massage everyday, a hydropath mineral bath and a reflexology appointment. Please God, I’m not asking for much, so would you grant me this wish?

Thanks.