oh my dear reader, it is with great joy that i share with you the news of my triumphant return to canyon ranch. my how i have missed the myriad of registered massage therapists and the long term staff like ed, the cycling guide, who never laughs at a guest no matter how pathetic the neon pink cycling shorts she sports may be. kath, the friendly ranch driver picked me up from the airport and whisked me to the ranch in no time. i mentioned my need after check-in to arrange for transportation to the circle k minimart to purchase my week's supply of coke zero and kath offered to take me gratis. i love kath and her oddly oversized feet.
kevin checked me in and after warmly welcoming me back to the ranch, informed me that i had been upgraded to a cassita (private 1 bedroom villa). lovely. of course i checked the location of the upgraded room and was slightly concerned at the lack of close proximity to both the clubhouse where fiber rich meals are taken as well as the spa, but no cassitas closer by were available and so i assured kevin that i would make do. kevin was very gracious and after offering me a size small ranch t-shirt, bless him, which i declined in favor of a size medium, informed me that not only was i upgraded but that on account of my milestone visit (i believe it is 5 or more visits within 2 years) i was being given a gift of my choosing from the ranch management. fortunately there were plenty of other guests nearby including a gentleman with a slightly greasy ponytail to overhear the conversation. "how thoughtful," i replied at hearing the news. kevin then produced a somewhat lackluster looking leaflet from which i was to select my gift. there were but 3 meager offerings on the cheap, glossy paper stock he handed to me; a notebook with a mildly offensive southwestern motif, a pair of mini collapsable binoculars (tres skymall), and a ranch logo water bottle holder with a stainless steel water bottle. the choice was clear and i requested the water bottle and holder which i imagined would serve as a proxy for my elevated status at the ranch with those in-the-know. sort of the way that the harvard university sweatshirt with the simple "harvard" inscription serves as a status symbol because only a student on a varsity team can acquire such a sweatshirt and only harvard varsity athletes are aware of this fact thereby entreating wearers of the coveted sweatshirt with the knowing nods of his elite comrades. the thought of this freemason-like clubiness made me smile right up until the point when kevin felt it important to mention that the bottle was not included with the bottle holder. seriously? i thought to myself. just the holder, that is embarassing. i kept a smile pinned to my face as i slowly stepped away from registration and made my way to the dining hall in the clubhouse for a bite of lunch.
after a quick word of caution to the newbie couple seated next to me who were throughly enjoying the vanilla frozen yogurt with "hot fudge sauce" about the fact that the main ingredient in the "hot fudge" was in fact prunes and that it was best practice for those sharing a room to have a rule that consumption by one roommate of the sauce required disclosure of said consumption to the other roommate so that s/he could arm themselves appropriately, i was off to program advising in order to tweak my exercise and spa treatment schedule.
i signed up for the very best hikes and bike rides, careful to mark my correct height and grateful no request for my correct weight was made on the sign up sheet. good old ed was setting up bikes for the next day's ride and we chatted as his nose ran like a disturbing faucet in the unseasonably cold weather. ed was remarkably unphased by the droplets falling from his nose onto the ground and i decided it might be quite frozen solid thereby rendering ed unable to feel the profusion of sinovial fluid emanating from his person. thankfully i had a beading class to attend before my 100 minute hot stone massage and made my way to the craft center tucked away behind the sanctuary.
i entered the craft center at 5 minutes past the appointed start time and the room was atwitter with lanky blonde 60-something plastic surgery afficionados all clad in lounge wear in various shades of pale blue. it was like the golden girls had been cloned and put through a gentrification machine and subsequently spat out as the ghosts of heidi montag's future. the women paused for a split second to greet me and then returned to their busy work of selecting beads for their projects. each woman had a tray in her hands onto which she was carefully placing beads in the grooved semi circular indentations from which she would later string her masterpiece. rather than making an eyeglass holder/necklace to dangle elegantly around my neck like the other women, i decided to make a book mark, which for some reason i cannot fathom was being referred to by the chief craft woman, suzie and her golden girls, as a "book thong". apparently i am the only living being at the ranch who finds this both strange and immensely amusing as i found myself giggling and could not help but picture books wearing victoria secret undergarments each time someone said "book thong". i found a table with an open workstation and after gathering my turquoise southwestern beads and peace sign charms, sat down to work. suzie, who was clearly raised on long island and wore a farcical amount of bronzer she had not quite managed to blend in despite her bifocal contact lenses, gave me careful instructions on how to use the bead spinner. a bead spinner is a wooden bowl with a spindle sticking straight up from its center in which one places beads and then spins the bowl while simultaneously skimming the top of the beads with a very long and slightly hooked threaded needle. this causes the beads to jump onto the needle in order for one to easily thread them into a magnificent handcrafted creation. the charming woman with the joan rivers eyes next to me seemed to be struggling to string her beads and i was almost embarrassed at how quickly i was completing the task. she asked me whether i was a "serious beader", to which i responded, "oh, i bead here and there" in an effort to assuage her feelings of inadequacy. suzie was asked how the spinner worked and she said it was the "centrifugal force" of the spinner that causes the beads to "jump onto the needle". alhough i am no physicist, i am fairly certain that while the centrifugal force is what pushes the beads to the outside of the spinner, it does not in fact cause the beads to magically alight the needle. of course a magic beading force is far more interesting to discuss across the pool during aqua fitness, so i held my tongue. soon suzie began nervously rushing the golden girls and encouraging them to hurry up as the room needed to be free and clean in another 45 minutes for martha's ceramics class. martha is from germany you see and enjoys promptness and tidiness according to suzie. suzie is from long island as i mentioned and enjoys abundant make up and talking. i finished threading, crimped my final bead and tried to leave quietly but suzie grabbed me before i could make my escape. after grasping at her breast in mock cardiac arrest at the speed of my completion (a joke in rather poor taste i think given the audience in the room) suzie insisted i had to do "show and tell" for everyone. she clutched my "book thong" with her acrylic french manicured nails and held it up for all to admire. a mixture of ooohs and aaaahs from the crowd was followed by several discreet head shakes of dismissal, "she may be quick," their gestures said, "but she's no artist."
and so i took my "book thong" and walked over to the spa for my massage knowing that even after my 100 minutes were over the golden girls would still have unfinished works of art.
