Massaging the soul

I did something wonderfully exotic and outside my regular routine – I had a professional massage. I finally used the gift certificate the Jacquii gave me for my birthday (6 months ago) and wow, the results were worth.

Well, other than having a back the size of a barn to begin with, it went down surprisingly well. I even semi-disrobed in a room lit only by meagre tea-light candles, complete with aromatic oils and piped new-agey-fied Pachelbel classical music.

Afterwards, the Jacquii came to visit. The occasion was marked by an unexpected family feast of Cannelloni, specially-concocted vegie soup and roll-upon-roll of garlic bread. This meal was capped off with home-made meringues with fresh cream and peaches. *drool*

The Jacquii also traded up to a new car. It’s the same make and model, just a year or so newer. At first we thought they’d just painted it a shiny metallic red, but no, they did indeed buy themselves a new car. Their first major investment (and debt!) together. How sweet!

All of this has been on top of a story sale I discovered last night. The prolific Nancy Jackson accepted my tiny but uber Nuclear Summer for her Mind Scraps anthology. Swoooieeet maaate!

Oh yeah, and I’ve booked my Clarion South flight. I’m jetting over to Coffs Harbour to spend a few post Christmas days with the family, before embarking on a road trip in Damien’s suped-up Mini Cooper (canary yellow, with racing stripes and all!). Wankerism runs in the family, but at least we have cool cars.

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