So, one of the things I have learned living in Montreal is that not only is it perfectly acceptable to pamper yourself, it is expected. As a result, I have decided to throw myself into spa culture whole-heartedly. Two weeks ago I started with a seaweed wrap and yesterday I had a body scrub. At first I was a little apprehensive about having some woman I don’t know rub seaweed or sea salt into my naked skin while I lay there with a spa towel providing only a scrap of modesty covering my muff, but I got over it.

Of course muff maintenance was something I had to consider before both of these appointments. When in public, you need to keep things tucked away. Of course I had to have a conversation about these things with a friend of mine who, partway through the conversation felt the need to confide in me.

As it turns out she went to the esthetician last week, and the woman giving her the “treatment” went a bit to far and now, my girl has a landing strip. She’s upset about it and actually embarrassed. She is also concerned because her boyfriend … well let’s just say he’s a real man and likes a real woman. I’m sure he’ll get over it.

Feeling badly for her I decided to share the following story:

Once a few years ago when I had just joined the YMCA (and you know a story is going to be embarrassing when the YMCA is involved) I would always see a friend of the family there. For the purposes of this blog we’ll call her “Auntie Mary.”

An old friend of my mother’s, Auntie Mary for as long as I can remember has been super fit. As it turns out she joined the Downtown Toronto YMCA the same week that she came to Canada. She has been a YMCA member longer than she has been a citizen, and it shows. The woman has been an example of fit since 1968.

When I first started at the YMCA I was super keen. I’d get there before work every other day. By the time the clock struck 6:40AM I was on the treadmill and I didn’t stop pushing it until 8:15 when I’d head for the showers. Well, one day I was in the change room after a hard work out getting my stuff together to walk to the shower. There was Auntie Mary, the women who had changed me, cut my food up and given me countless tips on how to maintain soft and glowing skin. We chatted a little bit, while we got our stuff together. But at one moment I guess to emphasize the point she was making she stood straight up. She was also completely naked. That is when I noticed it and the image will stay in my brain until the day I die.

Auntie Mary had a porn-star muff. Why did I have to see that? Why can’t I forget it?
- posted by Debbie @ 7:48 PM