Wicked ill, homegirl.

This post comes to you courtesy of my sick bed.
I'm sprawled out right now, blinds drawn and windows closed, my only companions a large cup of hot soymilk and waaay too many used tissues.
Gross.

So I thought I'd take a little time in between naps to keep you guys up to date on whats going down in Chinatown (....haha, get it?).

I've been pretty busy the last few days and as such haven't had any time to get on over here and be charming and witty. Well, I guess its more like try to be charming and witty, right? I think the last actual post was about refrigerators and my crazy hippy opinions on them, so i think i'll give this post a little more mass appeal.

I got my first actual chinese foot massage yesterday. I've since decided I'm not ever going to leave China, I'm just going to stay here and blow all my money on massages. 6 months from now I'll probably be on the street panhandling just so i can get a fix- me love you long time baby. Now, off colour jokes aside, it really was fantastic- the thing about this whole foot massage business was that even though its called a 'foot massage' they start out by working on your neck and back to loosen you up. Feet in a steaming wood tub full of tea, my back got the works before the real foot massage even started. Neck, back, shoulders, arms, even some slight spinal adjustment. And they did that thing with the glass cups and the fire. Talk about fantastic. I will definately be back for more. And more, and some more after that. (Thats what she said! haha, ha.)

On to the second bit of fantasticness. Now, I know this is going to sound a little chauvinistic, but one of the best parts was how extremely attractive the masseurs were. I mean, as if having my muscles kneaded and drummed upon wasn't nice enough, i got to be kneaded and drummed upon by an incredibly attractive asian man. Big fat (or, rather, cut and trim) yay for that. If only he had been vegan...

Oh, what? How much was it? Yea. It converts to something like 7 dollars.
For an hour and a half.

Yatta!

And on that note, im going to go curl up in a fetal position on my shower floor and waste copious amounts of hot water before I pass out (again) from congestion and the aches. Hopefully this knowledge of my misery will temper any jealousy about the ridiculous fantasticity of my foot massage access, unless of course you're just being jealous of my shower floor :)

love&luz
ill jessie