Mister, can you spare a student loan?

I've been following a story lately on a mounting student loan scandal.

It was with great distress that I once again undertook a student loan to pay for my massage therapy program. We were almost completely loan free until I signed those papers.

My loan officer recommened only one company to consider for the loan. (We'll call it "Sally" for the time being.)

From the get-go, this company has been a major pain in the ass. I was required to start paying my loan before my first day of school. The lower "in-term" rate that was quoted at the time of admission was five times higher than expected. Last month, the payment doubled. I called to complain and they called me in return to inform me that my account was in collections. Really?

So I did what all good Americans do, I switched to another lender.

Some of my fellow students are not so lucky. They have been fighting with "Sally" since the first payment. Or, others deferred payments only to find their rate has since skyrocketed.

It just makes you wonder if there are any ethics left in big business anymore? All I'm asking is for a little preferential treatment now and then. Is that so wrong?

Golden goblet of bullshit

It would be an understatement to say that when you enter the world of "alternative health therapies" you will encounter some interesting people.

As a student, I am more interested in the researched and supported health benefits of massage. The release of pressure points, redistribution of fluids and toxin, the inevitable cellular change that results of a theraputic massage -- that intrigues me. The mystical flow of your chi from your asshole to the all-knowing diety of assholes -- I could care less. But, as I said, they are intrinsically linked.

Yesterday during a massage class, our teacher noticed that we were getting a little tired from our repeated exertions. In order to encourage us, she gave us a visualization. "Imagine you have a golden goblet in your heart," she said. "Now imagine the goblet is filling full of shining, shimmering love and that love pours out of the goblet and down your arms into your fingertips and you shower love on your client."

I sat up and looked at my fellow student who was practicing her moves on my sore shoulder at the time.

"Just shut up," she said. And pushed my head back down.

But before I resumed my prone position, I muttered ... "and winged fairies will fly out of your ass and lift you to the heavens."

Turns out the teacher was standing right next to me. I don't think she thought it was too funny.

Ooops! That damn inner monologue!

Resonance

A by-product of pursuing knowledge of an alternative health therapy is exposure to a range of "interesting" theories.

For example, I saw a brief demonstration of the hot stone technique that involved the therapist clicking stones together to "bring them back into the room." Now what the hell that means, I may never know. I accept it as part of the overall program and move along.

But every now and then I stumble across and article or idea that strikes me just so. Recently, I read an article about bone resonance. I was fascinated. The therapy involved tuning forks used at different points in the body to realign the bone's natural resonance. I know, it sounds a little hokey, but if you have ever been to a really loud rock concert, and walked away totally elated (without chemical enhancement) then you too understand this technique.

I distinctly remember the first time I went to a live show. It was Lynrd Skynrd -- post plane crash. I was underaged and very sober and in one of the best moods of my life. It literally rocked my ass into shape. I felt fantastic.

I have experienced this time and time again, and it's always better when I'm right next to the speakers where I can feel the base listerally sucking the marrow out of my bones with each thump.

I felt it again, but with a new understanding, when I went to a concert last Saturday. I went to see Audio Adrenaline, an alternative Christian rock band. I know, that should be an oxymoron, but it's not.

Normally I'm not a fan of adult contemporary Christian music. It puts me to sleep. But this band is different.The first time I saw them in concert, the lead singer was wearing a "Rock and Roll Ain't Noise Pollution" tee shirt and I knew things were going to be great.

We sat in the fourth row from the stage and when that base drum started thumping, and my head started banging in concert, all was right with the world.

After the show, I was explaining the bone resonance therapy to the hubby and how I felt the effects. I was chirping away, happily sharing my knowledge when I happened to glance over at him. The "what the fuck?" look on his face stopped me in my tracks.

Riiiiiggghttt. Forgot that the techie probably won't accept the alternative therapy ideas too well.

I waved my hand and said, "Nevermind, it's just something I read. Want to mess around when we get home?" I assumed the big grin on his face meant that his bone resonance had realigned as well.

God love a rock concert!