St. Theresa

Yesterday I behaved rather unlike myself. . . Ooh, back up. I read somewhere that to be a “good blogger” the author should state clearly the post’s subject within the first few sentences, just like any good writing. Because I aim to be a very good blogger, and because my blog is about The Land of Spa, let me say here that the topic of this post is only tangentially about spa-ing. I shall elaborate later.

I repeat, yesterday I behaved rather unlike myself. For the first time in a long time I received one of those chain letter type emails, the kind that require that you bother several of your best friends by forwarding them the email and then further asking them to bother several of their best friends to continue the chain. The chain must not be broken at all costs and as you sit in front of your computer you sort of freeze with the weight of it all: Bother your friends and get flak, or don’t bother them and forever wonder What if?

Those echains used to circulate around a lot but along the way people began to get annoyed by them and it mostly stopped except for the ones sent those people—you know the type: nice enough but not the hippest number on the dance floor.

Generally, it’s the topics of these emails that rendered the participant uncool. (Get ready because this is where this post becomes tangentially about spa-ing.) Sometimes they are just workaday spread-the-love kind of e-chains, but more often they are religion-based and thrive on fear, like all religion. I consider myself spiritual and I do try to live by spiritual principles. In fact, it is the spiritual intent behind spa treatments—healing hands, and the like—that I probably drew me to the subject of spas to begin with.

So when the echain came yesterday invoking St. Theresa, “the saint of little ways,” telling me all I had to do to make a wish of my choosing come true was bother my friends, well I don’t mind saying I could have used a wish fulfilled at that moment. So I looked at the sender; she definitely wasn’t what I considered one of those people, and I read the whole echain, which stated that I needed to send it in five(!) minutes, and I admit it. I caved. I sent it two 12 of (what used to be?) my closest friends.

Within moments I was shot back an email by my trigger-happy friend A (you know who you are), telling me how much she “hates” those echains. A couple of my other always-game friends (I love you T and M), not only didn’t get bothered by my e-intrusion, but they actually sent the chain along and bothered 12 of their friends. How do I know? Because one of those friends sent the same echain back to me today. I assume the rest just clicked delete as fast as their little fingers could reach it.

On the fourth day the echain says my wish will come true. I have three more days to see if A or T, M and I have the last laugh.