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Since we had the day off from work, I just threw on my jeans before leaving the house this afternoon for r-therapy. I didn't realize until an old man in line at the reception desk gave me a dirty look that I was wearing my space monkey t-shirt (the one that says "I hope I never die"). The techs loved it, though.

Janelle told me I'd be getting a new team for my last day. I'll also be meeting with a radiation doctor after the final zapp. Then there's a follow-up one month later, and I get to see Dr. McNicoll again a month after that.

I haven't been able to have anything but liquids today, even with Codeine. The tongue-burn even makes talking painful. I tried some ice cream and the pumpkin part of this year's pumpkin pie, but no go. So I spent the rest of the afternoon stretching my jaw in front of the Food Network. It's my porn these days.

Thanksgiving was super. There were nearly 40 friends and family members at my parent's house this year, including two newborns. My brother also scored a copy of "House of Flying Daggers" on DVD, AND "Hero" is coming out Tuesday! Few things cheer me up these days like bad-ass Asian women.

James' exhibit opens this Sunday, which is why he couldn't make Thanksgiving Dinner this year. So I'll probably spend the weekend helping him with the installation. Which means bringing him food, doing his laundry, and trying to make him laugh when he's exhausted. I can be a pretty good poor-man's-patron. God knows I haven't been much of a muse this year (I'm a terrible liar, so it's a good thing that he's talented).

E-mail me if you need directions to his show.