Showing posts from May, 2008

God Bless Her!

She perched on the side of the slimy hot tub, her delicate, broken legs hanging limply in the bubbles, an open copy of Vogue or Oprah at her side. She wore a fancy black shower cap with ruffles round the edges, (PP could envision Bette Davis sporting such a cap in one of her 40's screwball comedies) a one piece black swim suit circa 1967, with a black gemstone pendant dangling between her thin cleavaged breasts.

PP had seen her before. Wreaking havoc with her motorized wheelchair. Actually it wasn’t really havoc. Just running over someone else’s flip flop in the chair's way. Maybe PP’s regular readers remember?

But tonight, she was beatific. Gentle. Wistful even, when PP climbed into the tub’s welcoming warmth after a cold hard swim in the vortex of Running Man in the lane next to her and Behemoth Man sharing her lane.

Sometimes! PP just feels like she’s being swept away at the Y. It’s the same feeling she gets when she’s driving the Geo down 880 and everyone around her is going…

It’s the Tree

“You sure do got you some good height there,” Flower Shower Cap Woman observed when Amazon Goddess Woman strode into the hot tub arena, her powerful legs longer than PP’s entire torso.

Damn. PP had to agree. AGW was a fine specimen, but PP had never had the brazenness to say it to her out loud, even though she'd been thinking it for weeks now. Yet she'd had no opening, only exchanging ‘hello’s' passing in the locker room.

FSCW had no such qualms, as she sunk into the bubblin' tub, nodding ever so seriously. “I bet you got you some Indian Blood in you!” she announced, as AGW grinned broadly, pleasant surprise on her lovely face.

“Now how’d you guess that?” she smiled. “Was it the freckles that gave it away?” (Native Americans, because PP just assumed that it was this group of people and not the ones that hailed from the other side of the globe, had freckles? PP never knew this! See what she learned in the Hot Tub at the YMCA? Images and information never seen in a John F…

Yin & Yang

As an ASS (academic support specialist) at WWU, PP by all osmosis expectations, should be an expert in the basics of yin and yang. But yet. She is woefully clueless about even its most basic tenants. Why, she even has the Brilliant Tomoko Murakami as her student, whose Master’s Thesis expounds upon the elements of light and dark, spirit and body, life and death in eloquent glory. (Check her out at: &/ or email her at:

So, you’d think that when the Shivering Post-Cold Shower woman entered Utopia, announcing to the group of heaterized women that she was there to warm up after her freezing shower( “That shower needed more Yang!”) that PP would know what the hell she was talking about.

No, she didn’t. Yang? A shower with Yang? Like is that some sort of.... what? Why, PP is even sitting in her office here at WWU, trying to soak up the spirit of Yang and it’s not working.

So she asks Yang Shower Woman, like the Chinese Clueless Culture Moron …


Standing in front of the mirror, drying her hair, PP sees her stop and stare, then continue on behind her.
What now? she wonders. PP’s so tired of all of her unforeseen transgressions at the YMCA, as the Petite Asian Woman stops again, this time right next to her, a slow wondrous smile breaking out on her pockmarked face.

Pointing at PP’s hair (Is it all about the Hair? Yes it is!), PAW nods in quick enthusiastic jerks, her own straight dark hair divided into two stubby pig tails. “Beautiful…..” she murmurs, as PP dries another golden curl through her fingers, the dryer blowing it romantically across her hand.

Feeling a little sheepish since she’d been expecting the worst, suspecting some sort of abomination she’d committed while hair drying, PP turns around to give PAW a quick smile, “Thank you,” she beams, relieved.

Of course it’s the Hair, remembering how when she was teaching in China she was the local Circus Freak with her blonde hair and blue eyes, everyone always stopping and sta…

Beware The Turban Tub Tyrant

Dunking her head under the warm bubbles, PP sighs in post swim tiredness. She looks so forward to this moment, especially after a hard swim. The hot tub is her relaxation sanctuary.

Unless Turban Tub Tyrant is there.


PP still can’t believe it. What the hell is up with some of these women? They think they own the joint. Don’t they realize that the YMCA is NOT their Domain, no matter how long they’ve been a member, how big their boobs are, or how mean they are?

Yet time and again, PP has witnessed the bitchy cat fights that ensue over the most trivial of territorial issues.

Someone’s left a suit in the sink.
Someone’s forgotten to rinse off the sauna boards after dropping salt down the slats.
Someone’s wearing too much goddamn green goo that sinks into their skin and no matter how long they shower it’s still in their skin and then they get into the hot tub and….


So, after dunking her head under the water, when PP comes up to the sound of disgruntled mumbling…

The Red Devil

“Those plastic bags look like they should have Goldfish in them!” PP exclaims as she watches DW dump another bag of water on the redwood slats of the sauna. She’s pissed off in a quiet way. PP can tell. She’s not smiling. She doesn’t chuckle at the Goldfish remark.

She’s still mad about last week and the Goo Blame Frenzy. This washing off of the redwood slats must be a reaction to whatever happened with the Girl Fight that PP and DL never quite understood.

Stalking out of the sauna, the now empty plastic bag clenched in her hand, DW barely turns around to wish everyone a good night.

Damn. There’s some bad mojo goin on still!

“Do you have fish?” DL ventures shyly, spying a sparkle of fish response in Smells Like Roast Chicken Woman. How DL knows this, PP can’t fathom.

Call it Fish Intuition.

“Why, yes I do! How did you know?” SLRCW beams, shifting her sparkling salt vault mass to avoid the dripping water from DW’s water cleansing festival.
“I don’t know,” DL murmurs, “I just saw something a…

From Glitter to Vicodin

“Do you notice that the hairs on your arm are all bleached from the chlorine?”

PP sinks into the hiding tub bubbles. This is gonna be good. She can tell. And today, she’s just gonna eavesdrop since her energy level is so low. But more on that later.

Or not.

Bleached Arm Hair Woman nods to her companion, who eyes her politely from under her Red Bandanna. ‘No, can’t say as I have noticed that particular phenomenon.”

BAHW chuckles, “I always have been hairy. My family is all hairy. Hairy runs in the family. But it’s always been dark hair. This hair….” She holds out her arm above the bubbling water, shoving it in Red Bandanna Woman’s face, who glances at it for a moment, then smiles. Gently.

Then, nodding, she raises her own arm and looks it up and down. “I’ve always had light hair. Now particularly that I’ve gone gray.”

They both laugh, PP grinning silently to herself in the corner of the tub. Gray hair. Don’t even get her started on that one. Everyone always says that she doesn’t have any g…


Where to start? PP’s head is still swimming!

Maybe she should start with her technical difficulties surrounding the goddamn PowerPoint presentation snafu at WWU?

She did find the ‘Zero Footprint’; she did not find the Black Tower.
Maybe this was the problem?

And then, once at the YMCA, working out on the Torture Machines, DL arrived, expressing her amazement at PP’s adeptness at the new kneeling machine.
But when PP tried to show, DL…..

And then……

“HEY!!!! DON’T Y’ALL GO BREAKING MY MACHINES!!!” bellowed across the gym.

DL was mortified. PP was stricken. Tony was only concerned about his goddamned machines and not DL’s safety!

Maybe PP should put him in the Black Tower.

Then, finally after a lovely swim in the warm velvet water, PP entered the Hot Tub Arena, only to come upon Tornado of Estrogen Induced? Consternation. Damn! Where to even start with this? Diabetes Woman was shrieking at the top of her lungs inside Utopia. PP couldn’t hear what her exact words were, but the u…


“That sure is a real pretty suit!”
Stepping gingerly into the hot water from the side instead of the stairs since Suit Complement Woman blocks these, PP beams at the blue suited floating woman taking up almost the entire hot tub, “Thanks,” PP nods, glancing down at the bright pink designs on her suit. “I like it too!”
“I had this one for 25 years!” SCW boasts, grinning in buoyant satisfaction.
“25 years? Wow! I’ve never heard of a suit lasting that long,” PP exclaims, noting how from the looks of her ample figure, SCW probably hasn’t done much swimming in the last 25 years.
“Yup. Got it back in…..” SCW pauses, gazing up at the dripping ceiling in concentration for a moment. “…..1986…..and now it’s 2008?” She chuckles. “Well, almost 25 years!”
“That is amazing,” PP laughs. “I’ve had this one for a year and I can’t believe it. I usually go through a new one every 3 or 4 months.”
“But this one has more …. ?”
”Spandex?” SCW offers.
“No…. I mean, yeah it has spandex or Lycra or whatever,…


Settling into the warm cave of Utopia, PP and DL sigh in unified contentment. Closing her eyes, PP breathes in the dry heat. Tonight, though, there’s a lovely citrusy scent. “It smells so good in here,” she murmurs.

DL sighs, agreeing.

“It smells like lemons?” PP ventures.
“Or oranges?” DL offers.
“It’s actually called Ylang Ylang. You can buy it from Personal Product on-line,” an Authoritative Product Voice announces.

PP opens her eyes to glance across the sauna at the Voice. Damn if it isn’t Oblivious Mask Woman, stretching her scrawny form out on the redwood slab, inspecting her toes. (Which, by the way, DL had joked were crazy. Well, no, she didn’t exactly say that. When PP had asked DL if she’d seen the look in OMW’s eyes and seen that ‘crazy’ glassed over gaze, DL and giggled and said, “I can see IT in her toes!”)

Now, Crazy to her Toes, Oblivious Mask Woman was the authority on scent?

How delightful! She speaks! And with Information!

OMW Crazy to her Toes continues, “I usua…