Hurts so good...

Hiring someone to give you a Thai massage is only steps away from hiring someone to torture you into submission. They're both posted on signs along the good girl's highway to S&M. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but still -- there is something a little off about asking a very old, very strong woman to dig her thumbs into your legs and arms until you're quite certain that a) you're really going to scream this time she presses and b) tomorrow you'll be covered in dark blue, thumb-shaped bruises. So why subject yourself to such torture? Well, because afterward you feel darn skippy.

Yep, I got my first Thai massage of the trip on Saturday. The masseuse may have looked old and frail, but whatever she's been up to during her life has left her stronger than the largest WWE wrestler (either prior to steroid use or following!). I spent the first part of the massage lying on my back until the lovely thatched roof beside the sea listening to the waves crash on the shore while trying my hardest not to scrunch up my eyes too tightly when a finger dug a little too deep into a sore muscle. (In these situations, admitting pain is either a) setting yourself up for a weak and unsatisfactory massage or b) asking your sadistic masseuse for a beating -- and there's no way to tell which you'll end up calling forth ... neither is good)

I was thoroughly proud of myself for not squeaking once during the massage and for keeping my face in a largely "oooo, look how relaxed and bendy I am" position for much of the time. I guess the masseuse took this as a challenge because near the end she first stood on my legs (which was actually quite nice once she stepped off of them), then she bent me forward and pretty much sat on my back. Having tight legs, that wasn't going to happen -- at least not to the degree that she had hoped -- so out came my squeak of pain...followed shortly by her laughing.

You never win against your Thai masseuse -- especially if she's old enough to be your grandmother and hiding amazing upper-body strength in those bony hands. You just give in and let her torture your into submission. But really, it's great.

In fact, I'm planning a return trip tomorrow. Perhaps by the end of the week my head will reach my knees when someone sits on me.