Zed has pointed out to me my inconsistency in bashing Indians who use Western or Westernized names. When I got picked as an audience participant for his improv nights, I called myself Vicki. Fair cop, guv. No more.

Nandini and I, in varying amounts, put up with the like of "Sandy-uh." Back when my sister lived in the Bay Area (she's in DC now), we diverted ourselves with spas, the one decadence we shared. Whether we visited the boojie-but-down-to-earth Piedmont Springs or the wildly luxurious Kabuki, we have uncovered a hankering for hot baths and seaweed wraps. You see, it's "good for you," like working out, only you don't have to do anything except loll! And complain about Anglicized names.

When we treated ourselves to Kabuki a while back, I had to adjust to the nudity. Miles of surface area! One gets used to it, but not completely. (On co-ed days people have to wear swimsuits, so if you don't want to stick out for wearing trunks or bikinis, go on Tuesday.)

Of course, Kabuki has to do some maintenance during spa hours, so one has to try to relax, naked, while a clothed low-wage (probably) worker does some very non-relaxing task. How do rich people get used to this? I feel insta-conflicted if I see building maintenance people at Salon, even when both they and I are working.

The title refers to a tenth-grade mnemonic: Socrates, then Plato, then Aristotle, then Alexander. I make no claims as to the usefulness or veracity of this mnemonic.