Tee hee, funny post title, eh?
Since Lara's moving to Seattle next week, we set aside today for some quality time. After a lovely lunch in Pasadena, we headed to the Olympic Spa in Koreatown. I had never been to a spa before; Lara's an old pro, but only with some swanky Western chain. We sort of had an idea of what to expect; the LA Times ran an article a while back that piqued my interest. (The idea of aggressive exfoliation was quite compelling.) However, this morning when we ran into some Korean friends, they laughed - hard - when they heard our plans.
We spent three hours there: soaking in a mugworts tea bath, snoozing on a heated jade floor, and yes, scrubbing the living daylights out of our epidermi. And I never once felt conflicted, the way I thought I might; it just wasn't a pretentious, bourgeois joint. Part of what made it so comfortable was the central trough, where frugal ladies eschewed professionals and instead entrusted their unreachables to their friends.
We ran into our friend again on the way home; it turns out that he was laughing only because he knew how wonderful it would be. He proclaims Korean & Japanese bathhouse culture to be the best in the world, and had the same kind of joy I've detected in Korean friends when sharing their incredible Kim-Chi and barbeque dishes. A good kind of pride - the pride of sharing something delightful.
Mmmmm. (Though I should point out, regardless of how smooth my elbows are right now, nothing will make Lara's departure smoother. Sniff, sniff.)