a few weeks ago, against committee orders, i made a contentious impulse purchase of the queen mother of all juicers, which has darkened a corner of our kitchen counter and drawn stares of rage and unlovely comments from my better jewish half. i thought that this rage against the juicer was permanent, but then came soft-serve banana. mia took one bite, looked at me and said, ‘you might have just redeemed this purchase.’ it’s that good.

recipe:
frozen bananas (pre-peeled)
raw cacao (or regular cocoa powder)
raw dark agave syrup

with the blank in place, feed the bananas to the juicer, which will play-doh-fun-factory them into an awesome-textured cream. whip in the chocolate until brownish; whip in the agave until sweet. can be refrozen. next attempt: minty vanilla.

last sunday morning, i woke up with this mysteriously achieved cut across the bridge of my nose that made me look like someone (the cat?) punched me with some amount of force. it hasn’t healed yet. this weekend, pc was in town and we went down to the western bridge gallery. there was a bouncy castle installation. we went in and jumped around. i had this awesome idea to attempt a back flip, which led to me landing on my head (sucked) and then kneeing myself in the eye (double sucked). insult to injury: pc was taking video while the jumping around was happening.

there’s something awesome about receiving a black eye for conceptual art, there’s something less awesome about being taunted for it at work on monday morning.

while i’m face-up on the table, i usually stare at the ceiling as they’re putting needles into and taking needles out of me. today i looked down while the needles were on their way out and i’m not sure that i should have because good. lord. jesus. the ones in my i.t. band were sunk about two inches deep.

in a mild panic, i looked up at the acupuncturist and said, ‘dude, please tell me that the needle in my forehead isn’t in that far.’ he said it wasn’t. i don’t know if he was lying.