I know it's rough and all, but I got another massage at Meadowood today. It's not so much that I'm taking advantage of Tessa's free week there I am – but I've done something in the last few days to my back that has set it at about Defcon 3 and it needed some defusing. The man giving the "deep tissue" treatment stuck his hand into my back and twanged the muscles like he was playing a fuckin' banjo. By the time I got out of there, I felt like I'd been mangled by a cheese grater.
After eating another meal at Taylor's (my 2nd fave take-out place in America next to, of course, the Verti Marte in New Orleans) we went to Syd Greer's house to talk about her new art program for kids, called Artspring. Instead, her husband joined us and we ended up talking about their son Andy, who is obviously a brilliant visual artist, obviously a great musician, and being in fifth grade, obviously gets the shit beat out of him on a weekly basis. I told them some of my horror stories, and the husband seemed genuinely appreciative that someone understood just how horrible boys can be to one another. Andy had just come back from a sleepover (fun!) but of course, some brilliant bon homme had painted a jaunty moustache on him while he was sleeping (a pre-cursor to the Dirty Juanita). Last Wednesday a bunch of the kids tried to force him to eat mud. I have half a mind to walk him to school, sit behind him in class, and beat the living shit out of anyone who comes near him at recess. Of course, he'll grow up to be nationally-revered performance artist, but in the meantime, we all need a bodyguard, right?
The Celextant, April 14, 2002
Had trouble, um, shall we say, "finishing the deal" with my beloved this morning. Had no problem "starting the deal," just "finishing" it. Is it the drug, or is it the morning biorhythm? And could it be working that quickly?
I'm wondering how Celexa mixes with Xanax and a bourbon & ginger. They're going to have to put me in an autoclave when I get off the plane.
Posted by at April 14, 2002 11:57 PM