. . .

I got a massage today, my first one ever. There's a woman the college asks to come to campus once every two weeks or so to give fifteen-minute massages, and this morning, after I'd finished writing for about three hours, I opened an email that said she had appointments available. So, since I was pleased with the work I'd done, I called and set one up. Plus, I figured it'd get me out of the house and over to campus, where I could spend the afternoon writing.

On those fifteen minutes of lying down on the table, one word: Owww.

It was a "Chinese" massage, the masseuse said. She focused on pressure points, and on my stiff neck and shoulders. She kept saying, "Tight. Tight," while pummeling me. Afterward, though, I felt good. Relaxed. I actually found it harder to get started writing than usual. Maybe some part of me prefers to be uncomfortable.

In other news...I'm quite thrilled to say I received word yesterday that a little story of mine is going to appear in next year's issue of Salt Flats Annual.

You can look at Issue 2's table of contents (and read some of the contents) here. I recommend beginning with Randi Triant's "Starfish."