2002.09.29

Backs and backstage

Comments

Saturday night we saw the Annex Theatre’s Stage Door at the Empty Space in Fremont, which was fabulously entertaining. Definitely see this show if you have the chance; it runs until 13 October.

Watching the play put me into a Kate Hepburn mood, which may seem odd considering that I’ve never seen any of her films. The perfect solution would have been 1937’s Stage Door itself, and enigma’s desire to whip up a gourmet meal for me and lish would have seemed an ideal venue; unfortunately, a quick search revealed to my frustration that the only place to find the flick (not yet on DVD) for rental was Scarecrow Video. A fair trek, and one that’ll have to wait for another day.

In the meantime, the only discs I own that could possibly substitute were The Philadelphia Story (still unseen) and The Hudsucker Proxy (well-loved by me but not a Hepburn film; in it, though, Jennifer Jason Leigh does what from all accounts is a dead-on impression). The Coens won out so it was Hudsucker playing while enigma prepared dinner for three.

Food was a breaded dish reminiscent of chicken piccata, with asparagus and a sweet-hot concoction made with yams and chipotle peppers. So yummy!

Also got to see a few of lish’s private stash of her roles on VHS, including Mass Murder (unsettling! see your friends as serial killers! help!), a documentary, and a short student film by nenie. Payback is fair play, especially after the sharing of the Kung Fu movie and other unmentionable juvenilia.


My back’s been killing me for the last week. I don’t know if I slept the wrong way or RSI’d my left shoulder out of existence, but it’s been a constant annoyance. There are a couple muscles that feel “popped” out of place, one next to my neck and one on my shoulder blade.

The ideal solution to my problems, of course, would be a personalized back repair session by “Magic Hands,” but logistically that would be difficult right now.

My new brilliant idea is superball therapy. Simply put, this is where I attempt to position a jumbo, dead-dot-com superball (snapapplicances.com in da house) directly under my shoulder blade while I sleep.

Yea, darn it, that means this was first appropriate-looking thing I found on my nightstand.

I’m trying it out right now (typing from bed) and it actually feels pretty good. I can roll around a little on top of it and — voila! — instant massage.

Knowing the way I sleep this will probably last all of about a nanosecond after I drift out of consciousness, but it can’t hurt to try, right? Right?

Okay, tomorrow, I’ll look for a real chiropractor. Leave me to my delusions for tonight.


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