Today we indulged further into the opulence and pampering of Meadowood with an Aruyvedic Abhyanga massage, which was recommended to us as "the rarest of treatments," probably because it takes two therapists attacking you at once, a total of four hands racing all over your body. Youd think this would satisfy some ancient longing for group sex cultivated back in the heavy porn-watching days of one’s misspent adolescence, but it turns out that four hands end up being pretty confusing. It's pretty intense if you can let yourself fall into it, but I think that all massage sessions necessarily fall back into the tacit intimacy developed between the therapist and the client – and having two therapists kind of makes you feel like you're a Ford Taurus being assembled by overpaid union workers.
That, and I don't mean to complain (most people in this cruel world will never have a massage from two people at once) but they used a shitload of oil, so much that I felt like a tossed vinaigrette salad. I have ancient phobias - cultivated from that very same misspent adolescence about oil on my body, so it was hard to let it go. That said, they did do some wicked shit with synchronized patterns, and Tessa thought it was great, so who am I to complain? Sometimes I think that the best feeling I ever had from anyone touching me was a moment in 5th grade when Kent van Metre blacked in my fingernails with a pencil during Art class. I went into a trance, and I still remember it. I wonder if that Alternate Ian is totally gay.
After that, we went on a walk around St. Helena, spending money we don't have on really cool shoes. I can say I've bought my Most Expensive Pair of Shoes to Date, a pair of Barrett loafers that beat the shit out of anything else in my oeuvre. Tessa and I stressed out about the purchase for a while I was never going to buy them and she figured they were too good to pass up, followed by vice-versa – but in the end, I got swanked-up footwear for her screening of Five Wives tonight and will try to stop feeling guilty about it later.
Her documentary played tonight to one of the most enthusiastic crowds I've ever seen they started laughing at the beginning and never stopped. It was a much better crowd than the one in LA last year, probably because that venue was filled with morons and film students, two groups not known for participating much. The questions asked tonight were pretty great, and Tessa was on her game, leaving the crowd laughing and wanting more. After the screening, a throng of admirers hung around her, causing Bill Harlan's wife to remark "she's so solid!"
The Celextant, April 11, 2002
Took another half pill today. My mom wanted to know what I meant yesterday by saying it was a positive metaphor it's just that we enjoyed the idea of Tessa breaking a anti-depressant in half for me all those months before she even knew we'd be together.
No substantive change in my mood or noticeable effects on my psyche. I am wondering aloud if 10mg is going to be enough, given that it usually takes three times the dosage for anything else to work. I have had enough med school (three days), however, to understand that Celexa and Excedrin, although phonetic cousins, don't have much in common.
Posted by at April 12, 2002 01:18 AM