I co-hosted a party on Saturday at the nightclub Duplex, to celebrate two birthdays.
The bar area, before it got crowded.
The two birthday girls, me, my brother Tom, and Sara.
The very pretty Elaine, posing with my coworker Matthew from Gmail. Elaine insisted that the photo wouldn't come out well because I'm taking it from below, but of course she looks perfectly cute.
Karey, Megan my personal trainer, and me.
"What did you do today?" I asked Megan.
"I got a colonic for the first time."
That sounds horrible, I said, twisting my face away in disgust.
Over the next 45 minutes, she painted a magical picture of washing your insides with an influx of pure water. The gentle flow cleanses out years of gunk, leaving you fresh, light, rejuvenated.
If you had asked me last week about my ideal Saturday night outing, it would not have included listening to a detailed account of my friend's fecal matter, and the sensations as it was extracted from her.
But I would be wrong.
It turned out to be fascinating -- the sucking sensation from inside her abs, the chunks floating through the tube, the gurgling of water as it was inserted.
By the end of the conversation, my brother asked me if I'd give him a colonic gift certificate for his 20th birthday.